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... ----------------------------------------------------------------- Futures Past 04: Crossover by ArvyAbandoned 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. ----------------------------------------------------------------- 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 turned and headed back the way Scully's friend had gone, silently cursing himself for being a hundred kinds of fool, and a thousand kinds of coward. Scully looked at the retreating form of her partner and screamed silently in frustration. 'Damn him'. Just when she'd finally managed to work up the courage to even approach the topic. She had seen the look in his eyes, and the fear, the doubt, in them was obvious. She had no illusions that he would 'catch up' with her as he'd promised. 'What are you so afraid of, Mulder?' she asked silently, not realizing the irony of the situation. Until a few hours ago, she'd had the same fears he was now having. She sighed and turned to follow the path back to Mulder's house. ----------------------------------------------------------------- "You never told me how your night went yesterday," Natalie said as they headed towards their car. "Find anything interesting?" "Not a thing. Hopefully, something will turn up tonight though. But I did run into someone," Nick replied, pausing for effect. When he saw Natalie's questioning glance, he continued, "Did you know LaCroix was in town?" Seeing her look of surprise, he smiled. "My reaction exactly." "I didn't think he ever left Toronto. What's he doing here, anyway?" "Same thing we are. Trying to find the rogue vampire or vampires. Exposure of this kind is not good for the community, and he's understandably concerned. So, when he was informed of the killings by some friend of his, he decided to come and take a look for himself." "He has friends?" Natalie asked mischievously. "Oh, come on, Nat. The guy's almost 2000 years old. Give him *some* credit," Nick said, then shrugged. "Although, he does seem to have mellowed out somewhat in the past couple of years." "And I'm sure it has nothing whatsoever to do with my becoming immortal," she responded sarcastically. "I think he just figures you'll give up your search for a cure because of me." Nick sighed. "You're probably right, Nat," he acknowledged as they reached the car. Walking Natalie around to the driver's side, he added quietly, "Although, I now have a gift even more precious than any cure." He leaned in to give her a kiss. "I have you." ----------------------------------------------------------------- That was the scene that greeted Fox Mulder as he stepped up to the tree next to the sidewalk. He saw the couple's heads above the roof of their car less than a hundred yards away, locked together in a passionate kiss. He quickly moved back into the shadows, allowing the two of them a moment of privacy. He could easily picture himself and Scully in their place, and bitterly regretted rushing off like he had. 'Well,' he consoled himself, 'at least I do have some genuine questions for Natalie about the murders,' although he knew they weren't anything that couldn't have waited till the next day. He leaned forward to see if it was safe to come out. He saw Nat looking up at Nick when something struck him. 'Wait a minute, weren't they about the same height?' He looked on incredulously as Nick slowly appeared to grow taller. 'No,' he realized with a start, 'not taller!' He watched as Nick's body rose above the car and launched itself into the sky. Before he could think rationally enough to remember to close his gaping mouth, he saw Natalie get into her car and drive away. He stumbled back to lean on the comforting solidity of the tree. Swallowing heavily, he waited for the pounding in his chest to quiet down. Suddenly, several things began to make sense to him. He remembered that he'd never seen Nick before sunset. And tonight's events in particular... he recalled the other's apparently quick reflexes, his aversion to the food... the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Nicholas Knight was a real, honest-to-goodness, blood sucking, cross fearing vampire. Well, he had no proof of the last one, he amended, and he *had* seen Nick force down a couple of bites during dinner, although Nick had made it seem more like torture than food. But now, he felt several missing pieces in his profile slowly fall into place. That was how the killer had gotten to the victims so easily. He'd been looking for possible entry points into the alleys, totally dismissing the most obvious ones, namely the adjacent rooftops. It had simply never even occurred to him. 'And I thought I was open to extreme possibilities,' he berated himself. He briefly considered the idea that Nat's boyfriend was the killer, but discarded it just as quickly. The crimes had been going on for over a month, and he had a hard time picturing the good detective making five hour flights to feed when the round trip alone would surely take up most of the night. He smiled as he realized that he'd unconsciously made assumptions about vampire flight speeds without any previous frame of reference. But he doubted that a vampire could outrun, or rather, outfly a plane, so Nick still wasn't a suspect. He pushed himself away from the tree and started walking down the sidewalk. This new piece of information opened up so many possibilities, and not just related to this case either. His mind reeled at the implications. Actual, definitive proof of vampires, *finally*, and one of them a homicide detective no less. 'What is it with vampires and law enforcement anyway?' He recalled that Sheriff 'Buck Tooth' from their last case had been a vampire as well. He'd managed to slip through Mulder's grasp, along with most of the trailer park occupants. 'Not this time, not again,' he promised himself. As long as Knight didn't know Mulder knew, he had the advantage of surprise. And he was going to milk that for all it was worth. Mulder's thoughts ran in a hundred different directions at once, considering this new development from all possible angles. He barely noticed it when he passed first his house, then a couple more as he walked on, his hands stuffed in his pockets, lost in thought. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Rooftop above secluded alley Wednesday, February 18, 1998 1:41 AM She softly landed on the roof and looked over the parapet at the man who had just passed by below her. 'It was so simple,' she thought, watching her intended victim's movements. She was amazed that no others had thought of this before. As her master had said, the childe had to follow the one who brought them across. Of course, he had only been a young fool, impatient to try out his newfound vampiric abilities. He'd unwittingly given her a gift, the bumbling idiot, a gift which she'd repaid with pleasure. She still smiled when she recalled the look on his face upon seeing the wooden stake jutting out of his chest. He had demanded her obedience, but hadn't the ability or the strength to enforce it. She, on the other hand, had learned all she could from him before killing him. And now, when she brought across her own children, she made sure to erase their memories and enforce her will onto their minds. With the number of children she brought across increasing weekly, she had the beginnings of a small army. More than enough to protect her against any threat, mortal or vampire. She smiled at the thought. 'Queen... it had such a nice ring to it. Soon,' she promised herself. Soon she would have the resources and the power to sway the world to her command. She would start out small... a town first, maybe even Seattle, then a state, then... But first, she had to see about bringing a new childe into the fold. She watched as the man below her reached the middle of the alley. With a fluid movement, she vaulted the parapet and landed a few steps behind the unsuspecting mortal. He didn't give any indication that he'd heard her. She walked up to him and forcibly turned him to face her. The sudden cry was cut off before it could escape his lips. He simply stared at her, mesmerized by her glowing eyes and hypnotic voice. Pulling him down to his knees, she leaned forward to give him her kiss. She could taste the salty sweat as her lips made contact. She was about to pierce the skin on his throat when she felt it. Two vampires, both of them pretty old, and very nearby. The man sagged to the ground limply as she released him and stood up, looking around warily. She had to get out of there before she was caught. Alone, she knew she was no match for even one vampire, let alone two. She had to get back home, where she could be protected by her children. She quickly jumped into the air and headed for the docks. ----------------------------------------------------------------- A similar rooftop, a few miles away 1:32 AM "So how was dinner, Nicholas?" The tall man smiled at Nick as he descended onto the rooftop beside him. "Manage to keep anything down this time?" "Very funny, LaCroix," Nick muttered at the other's remark. "Dr. Lambert certainly has you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she? Be careful, Nicholas. What will the community think of a henpecked vampire?" "You're in rare form today, LaCroix. Is there some reason for your good mood?" "My son has decided to give up his foolish quest for mortality. There are no dangers to the vampire community except for this little thorn of ours. The radio show is doing well. What more could one ask for? My only regret is your continuing abstainment from human blood. But, in time, that will pass as well." He shrugged, then took to the sky once again. "Come now, Nicholas. Stop dawdling." Nick watched the older vampire fly away, then jumped up to follow him. Even after nearly 800 years, his mentor still managed to surprise him. He chuckled to himself. Whoever this friend of his was, LaCroix didn't seem as... lonely... as he usually did. Nick shook his head as they flew together in silence, following the agreed upon search pattern as they canvassed the city. From time to time, Nick glanced at his companion, thinking of his unique nature, even among their kind. His thoughts flew back to when he'd first found out about LaCroix. It was just a few months after Natalie had been *killed* that first time. LaCroix had been out of the city during that time, and when he'd returned... ----------------------------------------------------------------- Nicholas Knight's Residence, Toronto, Canada 2 years ago 8:05 PM He was thinking about how much Natalie's sword skills had progressed in just a few months as he brought his own sword down to meet hers. She was still a little weak on some of the nuances, but he had no doubt that she would be an even match for him within the year. In fact, at the rate she was going, he would have been surprised if she couldn't best him by then. All of a sudden, he watched as she froze, her sword against his, as she looked around warily. He'd seen that look numerous times before. It could mean only one thing... another immortal was nearby. He put down his sword and turned to face the direction she was looking at. He couldn't tell which of the two were more surprised at the figure standing next to the window. 'LaCroix...' "Welcome to the immortal family, Dr. Lambert," he breathed in his usual quiet tone. "It's about time." Nick looked to Natalie for confirmation. Sure enough, she nodded, a confused look on her face. LaCroix was the immortal she'd felt. "You're an immortal?" she blurted, looking from Nick to LaCroix. "But how? It's impossible." "Come, come, Dr. Lambert. You can say that after learning about vampires, about immortals? Surely you must have realized by now that nothing is impossible." "You've never mentioned anything about this before, LaCroix," Nick asked. "I didn't see any reason to do so, Nicholas. I try to stay out of the path of other immortals. Theirs is a stupid game, one which I have no desire to participate in. And my vampiric abilities provide me with more than adequate means to avoid it." "But how..." Natalie asked again. "One of nature's little ironies." He shrugged. "Bringing me across triggered my immortality, but not before I was changed. And the rest, as they say, is history." Turning to Nicholas, he asked, "How do you think I survived being burnt alive, the stake through my heart? You can't tell me you haven't wondered." When Nick nodded, he continued, "When I returned to Toronto, I did not expect this. But, I suppose some good has come out of it. I shall take my leave now, Nicholas. Take care, Dr. Lambert." He turned and left the way he came, leaving a very astonished couple in his wake. They had never seen LaCroix so amicable towards Natalie before. 'Well, well,' Nick mused, 'you see something new everyday. It certainly explained why LaCroix had never followed through on his threats on Natalie's life. He'd known there would have been no point.' ----------------------------------------------------------------- Present day 1:44 AM 'And,' Nick suspected, 'what Nat had said earlier was most probably true as well.' LaCroix knew that Nick would never pursue mortality now that she herself was immortal. His thoughts were interrupted by the other's sudden cry. "There!" Following his companion's sharp gaze, Nick saw what had caught his attention. In the alleyway below them, he saw a female vampire, bent over the body of a hapless man. They landed near her, but before they could approach her, she took off, sensing their approach. Nick prepared to follow the assailant when he felt his mentor's iron grip on his arm. "Perhaps it would be better to follow her instead of trying to catch her. The high number of bodies suggests more than a single vampire. Maybe she can lead us to the rest." Nick thought about this and reluctantly agreed. After checking to make sure that the victim was not seriously hurt, they took to the sky in pursuit. Unnoticed, they followed their quarry to a waterfront warehouse. They saw her enter the building, and landed outside, preparing to follow her in. They had barely taken two steps when they stopped, stunned by what they felt. Nick looked at LaCroix, and saw that the older vampire was as shaken as he was. They had expected maybe two or three more vampires in league with the one they had followed. But they had not expected this. The presence was like a brick wall, the feel of at least a dozen vampires in close proximity. The only other place they had felt something like this was inside LaCroix's bar. Vampires generally did not tend to gather in such large numbers. This was obviously a nest of sorts. Hastily, they stepped back to avoid their presence being noticed by those inside. They looked at each other, each of them having reached the same conclusion. There was no way they were going to be able to handle so many at once. Deciding to return the next night with more reinforcements to back them up, they made a note of the location and took to the air to return home. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Abandoned warehouse, Pier 17 Wednesday, February 18, 1998 6:37 PM The Taurus pulled up next to the building and the lone occupant stepped out. His hazel eyes scoured the deserted surroundings. The sun had set almost half an hour ago, but the streetlights had yet to come on. He pulled out the FBI issue flashlight from the back of the car, and turned to walk to the warehouse entrance. 'What the hell am I doing here?' he asked himself, just as he'd done at least a dozen times over the past couple of hours. He reached the door set unobtrusively on the side wall, and pushing it open, he stepped through into the musty darkness. He flashed the light around, taking in the setting. At first glance, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. It was just like all the other warehouses he'd been to in the past few hours, dank and uninviting. It looked like it hadn't been occupied for some time, not that he was expecting it to be any different from all the others. This was the ninth such building he'd been to. He had no idea there were so many empty warehouses along the dock area. He had overheard Natalie mention something about the docks to Duncan that morning when they thought they were alone. As soon as they had seen him enter, however, they had immediately stopped their discussion. But Mulder could tell that Nick had found something on his nightly patrol, something related to the killer. And it had been the perfect excuse to... He stopped himself, not wanting to think along those lines. When he'd finally come out of his reverie the night before, he had found himself more than a mile away from his house. Cursing his absentmindedness, he turned around to return back, only to find that Scully had already gone to sleep. He'd been slightly relieved at that, since he'd been dreading the conversation that would surely have ensued. And today, after the workout, he'd skipped out on her again to pursue the lead that Natalie had unwittingly dropped in his lap. Now, as he looked around the musty warehouse, he realized that he had spent the whole day trying to avoid the inevitable. He'd promised himself that he would talk to her the night before. Now it was a day later, and he had yet to work up the nerve to even look her in the eye. But every time he thought about what his first words to her would be, he could feel his heart constricting in fear. Could she possibly love someone like him, with all his fears, his messed up emotions? Could she want... He sighed as he watched his flashlight flicker. 'Ah, screw it,' he thought, giving the place a final once over just as the flashlight finally died. The warehouse could wait. He hadn't found anything in the previous ones, and he doubted this one would be any different. Besides, he knew he had to get this thing with Scully straightened out sooner or later. The comfort of not knowing how she felt, the safety in remaining in their thus far comfortable friendship, was rapidly being eclipsed by his need to finally get his feelings out into the open. He gritted his teeth as he made his decision. 'Tonight! I'll tell her tonight,' he swore. 'And if she doesn't feel the same way?' an annoying part of his mind questioned. 'Then,' he shouted at it, his heart wrenching in his chest. 'Then, I'll get down on my knees and beg her to stay, at least for a little while. I may be able to survive if she doesn't return my feelings, but I don't think I can live without her.' He shuddered as he realized just how much he'd come to depend on her. When exactly had she gone from being the hated spy sent to discredit his work to the most amazing, and most important thing in his life? He sucked in a sudden breath as he realized what he'd just thought... the most important thing... 'What about Samantha?' his mind screamed. 'No. Sam will always have a place in my heart.' But the rest of his heart, he realized, he'd already given to Scully. Now it only remained for him to tell her how he felt, and pray that she would show him some mercy and not crush what was left of his heart. He let out his breath and turned around, walking towards the door with a hint of determination in his stride. He never saw the dark stairway hidden in the far corner. Nor did he notice the faint glow of the pair of eyes that followed his every movement as he finally left the building. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Kevin Matthews watched with a touch of fear as the tall mortal walked out the door. What was he doing here? Surely no one could know where his mistress and his brothers lived? She had given him, all of them, specific instructions for just such an event. But he still wished she was here to take care of the problem. He had been brought across less than a week ago, and his memories of his previous life were still a little hazy. He did not feel confident in the least with regards to his newfound abilities, and he desperately hoped that he would not let his mistress down. She had taken care of him ever since he'd been... reborn, as she put it. But he still felt just a little scared of her. Whenever he would see the flash of anger in her eyes when one of them didn't obey her wishes to the letter, she truly frightened him. And he did not want to incur her wrath. He felt a shiver as he prepared to follow the intruder. The man walked to his car and got in, giving the place a final once over. Not seeing anything, he started the car and pulled out of the area. Kevin launched into the sky behind it, following the car until he finally reached a residential neighborhood. He landed out of sight of the car and its occupant, and watched him get out and go into the house. When the door shut behind the mortal, Kevin moved forward, giving the house a thorough inspection. From what he could see through the windows, there were only two occupants in the entire house. That was good... the less people to deal with, the better. He still wasn't used to the killing, and he was glad that it would be kept to a minimum. He turned and headed back towards the docks. Now, he only had to find his mistress. She would take care of everything. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Mulder Residence, Seattle, WA 6:58 PM She looked up from the magazine she was reading when she heard the front door. The anger and frustration she'd been nursing the entire day fled, replaced instead by a sudden nervousness. 'Stop it, Dana. You were so confident yesterday. happened to that stoic reserve? You can do this.' She placed the magazine on the coffee table next to the couch and waited for him to appear. She could hear him in the hallway as he hung up his jacket. She kept her eye on the door, watching as he walked in. "Hi." She smiled in acknowledgement and watched as he strode past the couch and dropped into the armchair next to it. He reached for the remote and flipped on the television. She saw him flip through almost all the channels before finally giving up and turning it off. His eyes roamed the room, looking at every nook and cranny, everywhere except right at her. He gave a sudden smile as his eyes descended on the stereo. He threw down the remote and got up. Walking over, he turned on the radio. He turned and moved towards the couch. Silently, he bent over, and grasping her hands, he pulled her up. "Mulder?" 'What in heaven's name was he doing?' "Shhh... Dance with me, Scully," he whispered softly. He held her as he moved in time to the slow music pouring out of the radio. They began with their bodies held slightly apart, but within minutes Scully found herself getting closer to him. Soon, her head was against his chest. Mulder moved their clasped hands up and placed them around his neck, then moved his own hands down and around her waist. Slowly they swayed as the music played on. Scully closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax. She breathed in the lingering smell of his leather jacket, the spiciness of his aftershave, all combining into the slight scent that was uniquely Mulder. 'I could stay like this forever.' She smiled into his chest at the thought. He held her tightly against him as they danced. Her head rested comfortably in the hollow of his throat. He bent forward and took in a deep breath, taking in the unique Scully scent, the familiar smell of her shampoo, the slight perfume that she preferred. He smiled as he wondered exactly how to proceed. He was amazed that he'd had the courage to get this far, and was even more surprised that Scully hadn't kneed him in the groin yet. "Hey, Scully...?" "Mmmhmm," she answered in a hazy murmur. This whole situation seemed like a dream, one that she didn't want to wake up from. "Who's Jack?" "Jack?" "The guy you wanted the poster for." "Oh, Jack. He was just the sheriff I was helping out with that case up in Maine. Why'd you ask, Mulder?" She smiled. "Jealous?" "Mmmhmm." Her eyes widened at his answer. She had expected a flippant denial, not this honest confirmation. She pulled back and looked up. She saw him staring down at her, his eyes filled with an intense expression. He saw her pull back and look up at him. The look in her eyes was one he'd seen twice the day before. Both those times, the depth of that look had scared him. Now it seemed vaguely familiar. With a flash of recognition, he realized where he'd seen it before. In his own eyes, whenever he'd looked in the mirror, whenever he thought about her. 'Oh my god! How have I not noticed it before?' 'Because you've always been so preoccupied with yourself, you dope,' he answered himself. Suddenly he was certain... he leaned forward. 'The look in his eyes... Oh, my god.' She leaned up. And the world shattered around them. She felt the shards of glass hit her back, then felt herself being flung back, hitting hard against the wall. She could have sworn she heard something break. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was the form bending over Mulder. 'No...!' her mind screamed as the darkness claimed her. Mulder watched the entire scene unfold as if in slow motion. One moment he had been about to kiss... kiss...? Scully. The next, her face was suddenly replaced by... His eyes widened as he took in the glowing eyes and the gleaming fangs. 'The killer! But how...?' He glanced at Scully in panic. But that was all he had time to do before *she* was upon him. His panic and fear and anger turned into mind numbing ecstasy, and his breath left him. He felt himself starting to fade from the lack of oxygen and knew at that moment that he was dying. Clyde Bruckman had been right, on both counts. 'Not exactly autoerotic asphyxiation, but close enough.' Suddenly, all he could think about were the lost opportunities, the wasted chances. How many times had he almost confessed his feelings for his partner, but shied away at the last minute? All those missed moments, now lost forever. 'I thought we'd have so much time, Scully. I'm so sorry,' his heart cried out as the world faded to black. She opened her eyes and saw that the scene had not changed since she lost consciousness. The woman was still bent over Mulder, and it looked as if she was trying to kiss his neck. 'How long was I out?' She pulled herself up and ran forward. Grasping the assailant by the shoulder, she jerked her back and threw her to the side. She was shocked at the jet of blood that spurted out of the two tiny puncture wounds on Mulder's neck. 'Jugular,' her clinical mind supplied, even as she placed her hand on his throat, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood. For the second time that night, Scully felt herself pulled back and thrown away like a rag doll. 'Damn, but that woman was strong.' She landed beside her coat that she'd draped over the couch. For once, she was glad she'd not bothered to put it up. She looked up and got the shock of her life. The woman was slowly advancing upon her, her eyes a fierce golden shade, her mouth open in a deadly rictus of pointed fangs, a trickle of blood flowing down her chin. Scully's fear vanished in a wave of anger as she realized whose blood it was. She reached behind her, feeling around inside her coat for the comfort of the leather holster. She pulled out her gun and fired at the oncoming intruder at point blank range. She watched with satisfaction as the woman staggered back, obviously hurt. But, she didn't fall. 'What the hell! She just shrugged off a bullet that should have her pushing up daisies by now. Not even an immortal had that kind of staying power.' She should know; something similar had happened to her not too long ago. But the attacker was barely even bleeding. She emptied the entire clip into her, but the only effect the bullets had was to push the woman back a little each time. 'Die, damn you. Die!' Scully threw the now useless gun away as she remembered what else she had in her coat. She reached back in and pulled out the sword just as her opponent lunged forward with a snarl. She noticed with a grim smile the sudden scared expression that settled on the woman's face, moments before her body made contact with the gleaming blade. Scully watched with morbid fascination as the steel slid effortlessly through the woman's body. She let go of the sword as momentum carried the impaled body past her. She dimly heard the scream and the thud as the body fell to the ground. At the same time her mind registered the sound of the front door opening, but the only thoughts that filled her mind now all had to do with Mulder. She ran towards him again, tearing off a piece of her shirt to use as a bandage. He was unconscious as she lifted his wrist. She stifled a pained gasp... his pulse was so weak, she could hardly feel it. 'Dammit, Mulder! Don't you die on me!' She heard the people walking in, felt them, but paid them no attention. She desperately tried to recall her classes on CPR... five compresses, then a breath, then repeat. She performed the ritual a couple of times before she felt the hand on her shoulder. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Getting no answer to their knock, Natalie pushed open the door. When they heard the gunshots and the scream, all five of them rushed in. "The living room," Nick shouted as he watched LaCroix heading towards it. The sight that greeted the group shocked them. Both Nick and LaCroix recognized their quarry from the night before, lying on the ground with a sword running through her. Less than a few feet away, a small redheaded woman was frantically pressing up and down on the chest of the prone figure lying next to her, interrupting the movements regularly with mouth to mouth. LaCroix walked over to the female vampire, and pulling out the sword, looked into her eyes. "Tsk, tsk. Who was your master? Didn't he teach you even the basics of our society?" He swung the sword down, neatly severing the head from the body. He noticed that the body remained as it was. 'Ah, a young one.' An older vampire would have disintegrated by now. 'No wonder. Children these days.' He shook his head and turned to see Natalie and the other immortals look at his actions in shock. He shrugged as he watched Natalie walk over to the redhead and place a hand on her shoulder. "Let it go, Dana. You remember what Duncan told you, right? He'll be fine. Don't worry." "Nat, he's dying," Dana whispered with a sob. "Then that's the way it has to be. You knew it would come down to this some time or the other. It was inevitable... it always is." "Are you sure?" For the first time, she noticed the others in the room. She knew Duncan and Nick, but she didn't recognize the other two men, both of whom seemed to be staring intently at Mulder and her. She looked from Natalie to Duncan for confirmation. When they both nodded, she let out a sigh and stopped the CPR, pulling Mulder's body up and hugging it. She placed her chin next to his ear and whispered, "I hope to god they're right, Mulder. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." She took in a shuddering breath. "I love you, Fox William Mulder, you hear me? So don't you dare ditch me again. Not this time." She placed a soft kiss next to his lips before turning to the others. "Help me get him to the bedroom." While Duncan and Methos helped Dana carry Mulder out of the room, Natalie turned to LaCroix. "Will he be all right? You felt him. Do you think he..." "... was brought across?" LaCroix finished for her. "I'm not sure. But it certainly seems that way." He sighed, then shrugged. "His is not a fate I would willingly wish upon others, but such is life." He looked up as Dana and the others returned. "Ms. Scully? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is LaCroix. Your friend will be all right in an hour or so. Come, we have much to discuss." He led the group over to the couch. When they were seated, he continued, "This is a turn of events I had not expected." "I'll say," the man who had been staring earlier, the one with the British accent, interrupted. "That's all we need, another one like you." He turned to face LaCroix. "I'm right, aren't I?" "Excuse me," Scully interjected. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I'm Dana Scully. And exactly what did you mean by another one like him?" she asked, pointing at the object of their discussion. "As far as I can tell, he's an immortal, just like you and me. How is he any different from us?" "So sorry, my dear. Adam Pierson, at your service. And as for what I meant, well..." he trailed off, turning to LaCroix. "What do you know about vampires, Ms. Scully?" "There have been myths and legends about vampires in many cultures as far back as recorded history, maybe longer. Usually such stories are a result of overactive imaginations coupled with unexplained phenomena. I don't believe that there is any one single species that can be labeled as a vampire." "You doubt what you have seen with your own eyes?" LaCroix asked, smiling as he pointed to the far corner of the room. Scully followed his gaze, gasping at the sight. She'd completely forgotten about their earlier visitor, caught up as she was in her anxiety about Mulder. Now, she was shocked to see the decapitated body, already showing signs of decomposition. She remembered the fight earlier, and found that she really had no rational explanation for the night's events. The attacker hadn't been an immortal, she was sure of that. But how else could she explain her seeming invulnerability to bullets... and those fangs! She stopped when she realized that she couldn't remember cutting off the killer's head. "Decapitation is one sure way to kill a vampire," LaCroix answered her silent question when she turned back to face him. "She was a threat to the vampire community, causing as much exposure as she did. She had to be eliminated. Such is our law." "Your law? Do you mean to say you're a vampire as well?" Scully still had a hard time embracing the concept, but decided to go along with it for now. "Yes, both Nicholas and I are." He smiled when he saw her turn a startled gaze towards Nick and then glance at Natalie. When she turned back to him, he continued, "I am somewhat unique, among both vampires and immortals. Or at least, I was until now. To my knowledge, I was the only pre-immortal brought across into the vampire community before now. I myself prefer to remain closer to my vampire nature, and generally avoid contact with the immortal community. But that is by choice." He paused letting it sink in. "Your friend, Ms. Scully, will be faced with similar choices. Immortality is not something to be taken lightly, and neither is vampirism. Also, he will be facing another obstacle. Usually a vampire is taught and guided by their master, the one who brings them across. In this case, that is obviously not possible." He turned a withering glance at the body that was by now nothing more than a few scattered pieces of flesh. "Not that she could have done a good job at it. In any case, your friend will be waking up soon, and there are certain things he must be taught." Scully leaned back in the couch as she digested this. From what Duncan had told her, Mulder would be like her, an immortal, when he woke up. Now, she discovered, he might be a vampire as well. That was rich. Both of them were now eminently qualified to be their own X-file. She frowned as a thought struck her. She turned a piercing glare upon the assembled group. "What are all of you doing here, anyway? Did you know the killer was here? You could have saved Mulder all that pain." She was starting to get really angry now. 'How dare they...' "No, not at all, Ms. Scully. Actually, we came to ask you for your help." When he saw the eyebrow rise in disbelief, he explained, "You see, yesterday night we discovered where the vampires who have been committing these murders have been nesting. Unfortunately, there were so many of them, we decided to retreat and return with more reinforcements. And you seemed a natural choice, from what Dr. Lambert has told me about you two. As it is, I'm somewhat surprised you don't believe in vampires." "Dana," Natalie said, continuing when she caught her friend's eye, "Mulder told me that he'd almost been brought across once before. So I just assumed..." "That's Mulder for you," Scully smiled a little, remembering with a touch of pain the case Mulder had worked on during her disappearance. "Natalie, he also believes in aliens and the Loch Ness monster. I prefer to wait for evidence and the facts before I draw my conclusions." "A wise choice, in most cases," LaCroix commented. "But, be that as it may, we still need to prepare for when he wakes up. Newly born immortals usually wake up from their first deaths in anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, depending on the extent of their injuries. But, considering this unique case, I'm not sure which way he will lean." He paused as another thought occurred to him. "And when he wakes up, he'll most probably be extremely hungry." Natalie briefly wondered how Dana would take the news about Mulder's need for a liquid diet when their discussion was abruptly interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen area. "That was fast. I guess we know which way he leans now, don't we?" Methos remarked as Dana, Natalie and Nick rushed towards the source of the noise. ----------------------------------------------------------------- The veil of darkness slowly lifted as Fox Mulder sat up. 'Where am I?' He looked around, taking in the familiar features of his bedroom. 'How'd I get here? And what's wrong with the lights in here?' For some reason, everything seemed a little brighter, and all the colors seemed to be slightly off. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the cobwebs that seemed to be gathering in it. The first thought that occurred to him was the last thing he'd heard before sleep had claimed him. "I love you, Fox William Mulder." The beautiful voice swept through his mind as he recalled the memory. 'I love you too, Scully,' he thought. Now all he had to do was figure out where she was so he could tell that to her face. He'd barely moved his feet off the bed when he felt the pain. He grasped his stomach and doubled over in agony. Hunger. 'Oh God!' He'd never felt this hungry before. It felt like his stomach was trying to chew his body from the inside out, attempting to quench its terrible need. He staggered out of bed and stumbled towards the kitchen. He searched the fridge and the nearby cabinets, silently thanking Scully for going shopping the day before as he pulled out the food. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Dana and Natalie felt the familiar sensation of a nearby immortal as the trio approached the kitchen. However, none of them was prepared for the sight that greeted them as they stepped through the door. Seated at the kitchen table, with liberal quantities of food in cans and bowls spread around him, Fox Mulder held a piece of bread as he glanced around him in confusion. When his eyes lit upon the new arrivals, he managed a sheepish grin. His gaze traveled to the bowl that lay on the floor, then back up to them. "Sorry, I got hungry," he explained, as if that took care of the entire matter. Each of the newcomers stared in shock, but not all for the same reason. The first thing Scully noticed about the man she'd so recently professed her love to were the eyes. They gleamed a fiery gold in the dim light. Looking closer, she could make out... 'Oh lord,' she gasped, 'Fangs! LaCroix was right.' She saw his gaze flit over Nick and Nat before settling on her. Even as she watched, his face grew more relaxed, his eyes taking on their natural hazel hue, his fangs retracting, leaving behind the even toothed grin that she remembered. The change was so sudden that, if not for her earlier encounter with the killer, she might have chalked it up to a trick of the light. Natalie and Nick were seeing something they had never thought possible. A vampire willingly eating solid food, and enjoying it no less. 'Probably another side effect of immortal vampirism that LaCroix conveniently forgot to mention.' Mulder gazed at Scully, his hunger appeased and the food in his hand forgotten for the moment. He was oblivious to the others in the room. It was strange, but his near brush with death seemed to have given him the ability to look at things in a new light, literally. He was struck by how beautiful she was, how much brighter her hair looked, how blue her eyes appeared. He still couldn't figure out how he'd survived, but that could wait. Suddenly all he could think about was getting Scully alone so he could talk to her. He grinned at her next words. "Mulder, we need to talk." "My thoughts exactly." He turned to the others. "Guys, could you excuse us for a minute?" "Actually, Mulder, I think you should come to the living room. There's someone you need to talk to." Disappointed, and a little hurt by Scully's apparent dismissal of what they'd almost shared not so long ago, he looked at her questioningly. Without a word, he got up to follow her. His head had started pounding a few moments before he'd been interrupted in the kitchen. Although the sudden headache had subsided fairly quickly, he felt an increase in the pressure as they neared the living room. The first thing he noticed upon entering was the curious piece of material that lay in one corner of the room. A closer glance caused him to suck in a breath. It was the dress their assailant had been wearing. He turned, noticing Duncan and two other men in the room. Mulder took a seat as Scully, Natalie and LaCroix took turns explaining the situation. When they got to the part about his immortality, he turned to Scully. "You knew, didn't you? You knew and you didn't tell me. Is that why you agreed to let me train with you?" His voice held a trace of anger at what he perceived to be her deception. "Yes," she confessed, "Do you really think I would have allowed you to place yourself in such danger otherwise?" Her tone changed from reassuring to slightly irritated. "And exactly when did you expect me to tell you? Every time I wanted to talk to you, you conveniently found something more important to do." Mulder hung his head as he realized the truth in her statement. He *had* avoided her the past couple of days, and couldn't, in all fairness, fault her. He looked up with a sheepish grin when he felt her hand upon his, gently squeezing it. His eyes locked with hers, silently conveying his apology, and accepting the forgiveness he saw there. They would talk about it later, but for now... It seemed to be a night for secrets to be revealed, and Fox Mulder was not one to back down from a challenge. He was going to deliver his own bombshell. "The killer..." He glanced at the few remaining pieces of clothing, and the barely detectable pieces of material that were all that remained of her. "She was a vampire, wasn't she?" He looked at each of his guests in turn before pinning his gaze squarely on Nick. 'Just try to deny it, Knight,' he smirked. 'I dare you.' He was surprised at the reaction it elicited, or rather failed to elicit. "She most certainly was." Nick smiled when he saw Mulder's jaw drop. He knew that the agent had probably been expecting a firm denial, based on what Natalie had told him of their conversation at the morgue. But it was his turn to be surprised when Mulder went on, "Just like you." Mulder was satisfied. He wasn't sure why his announcement of his knowledge of vampires was met with such calm. Heck, even Scully hadn't so much as uttered a "Mulder..." in that warning tone of hers. But, at least his accusation of Nick had managed to evoke a reaction. "How...?" Mulder shrugged. "I saw you take off last night at Anne's. After that, it didn't take a genius to figure it out, although it did take a little getting used to." "Well, you had better start getting used to it, Mr. Mulder. Because you will probably be doing a lot of that yourself." Mulder turned a quizzical glance towards the pale immortal. What had he called himself... LaCroix, that was it. His expression changed when he saw the man's eyes gleam golden for a second before settling back to their normal shade. The events of the night came back to him in a rush. The killer, her eyes, the fangs, her lips pressed to his neck, the sharp pain... "You can't be serious." He ran his fingers over his neck, searching for any telltale marks. They had to be putting him on. "It's not possible. I don't even feel any different." He ran his tongue over his teeth, earning bemused glances from those assembled. He looked to Scully for some sign that this was just a joke. He swallowed at the look of concern on her face, and the lack of denial. "Any wounds you may have had will already have healed by the time you woke up," Nick explained. "And you have to will the change. It's not spontaneous except under conditions of extreme stress." He tried to concentrate, following Nick's advice. He knew he'd succeeded when he heard Scully gasp. He felt no different, but he could only imagine how he looked. He could certainly feel the sharp points against his tongue as he ran it over his canines. A sudden thought struck him. "I'm not going to have to give up solid food, am I?" He suddenly had visions of drinking blood for the rest of eternity. He had no desire to give up his favorite cheeseburgers, or his beloved sunflower seeds. "You know, I meant to ask you about that, LaCroix." Natalie's eyes flashed as she demanded. "Why didn't you mention that you could eat solid food?" LaCroix blinked. "I beg your pardon?" "Mulder... We found him in the kitchen, eating. From the looks of things, he'd probably already polished off half the food in there." LaCroix turned widening eyes towards Mulder. "I've never actually tried it. Ever since I was brought across, I've always had an instinctual aversion to solid food. Now...," he trailed off, his brows coming together in thought. "I wonder if it was just something passed on by my master. New children are in a highly suggestive state when they first wake up, which is when they are usually taught our ways. In this case, this foolish one did not have a chance to influence young Mulder. I never realized it, but it may be that many of our natural instincts are actually just suggestions implanted at the moment of crossing over, suggestions that we pass on to our children without a second's thought." He paused, flinching when he caught sight of the all too familiar icon around Mulder's neck. "And obviously, this extends to other things as well. Tell me, Mr. Mulder, does that cross around your neck bother you at all?" Mulder fingered the chain, shaking his head when he felt it's cool surface. "This is most intriguing." LaCroix got up and started to pace. "I am amazed at how ingrained that first lesson could be. Without any training, Mulder has none of our preconceived instinctual responses. I assure you, Dr. Lambert, this is no result of immortality, else I would have known it. The only side effect I know of is my invulnerability against certain hazards to most vampires... sunlight, stakes and such." Natalie thought about his confession, then turned a triumphant smile at Nick. "See! I told you it was all in your head! We just need to work at it some more," she said, eliciting a groan in response. "Which brings us to the reason we're here." Methos had been restless for a while, and had taken advantage of the break in the conversation. "I'd like to get to sleep at a reasonable hour, if you don't mind." "Why exactly are you here?" Mulder asked. "You couldn't have known this was going to happen to me tonight, right?" Nick smiled at his comment. "That's exactly what Dana asked us earlier. No, Mulder, we're here because we found where the rest of the vampires were nesting. Since there were so many, we wanted to return with more reinforcements. You see, the one who attacked you was quite young. That means that we might run into her master, or others much older than her. When we first found them last night, we had no way of knowing how powerful these vampires were without giving ourselves away. So, we thought it would be better to prepare for the worst when we go there tonight." "But, if you wanted to keep vampires a secret, why involve us immortals?" "Unfortunately, Seattle isn't known for its abundant vampire population. There aren't any in this area that we could ask for help. Besides, both Duncan and Adam know of our kind. And since you mentioned to Natalie that you knew of us, we had hoped to get Dana to help us as well. So, what do you say?" Nick shot a questioning look at the agents. Mulder turned to Scully, silently asking her what she thought of the idea. "The ultimate X-file, eh Scully?" The comment brought a smile to both their faces. They realized that, like many of their cases, the guilty party would not be brought to justice, not under mortal law anyway. The only difference was that, in this case, they themselves were not constrained by the same mortal law. Turning back to their guests, both of them nodded their consent as they stood up. ----------------------------------------------------------------- 10:20 PM Mulder pushed the door open and walked into his house, followed immediately by Scully. They crossed the foyer and entered the living room, dropping themselves into the couch. It had taken a while, but they had finally taken care of the problem they had faced a few hours ago. When they'd finally reached the warehouse, Mulder had been surprised at how close he'd come to finding the killers without his knowledge. But, when he thought about it, he realized that that was probably how their attacker had known where he lived. He'd probably been followed when he left the warehouse earlier that day. The group had entered cautiously with their weapons drawn, ready to meet an overwhelming opposition. There were at least a dozen or so vampires inside, according to Nick and LaCroix. As expected, the first wave hit them as soon as they ascended the stairs hidden at the rear of the building. But every member of group was surprised when they dispatched the small group of five vampires so easily. The attackers had been young, younger than the female who had attacked Mulder earlier. The reason for the ease of their victory was evident within a few moments. One by one, the rest of the vampires materialized out of the shadows. None of them was older than the female vampire. They didn't attack the group. Instead, one of them came forward and started talking. "No more. No more killing. We're so tired of it. We surrender. Just let us go, please," he pleaded. Contrary to what they had feared, the female vampire had been the only master vampire. And she had not counted on some of her children's aversion to the more gruesome aspects of vampirism. The remaining vampires were relieved when they heard that, not only could they feed on blood without having to kill, but that they might also be able to try solid food. With a bit of effort, Nick and LaCroix had been able to break down the memory blocks that had been placed on them. After that, it had only been a matter of tying up some loose ends before the group disbanded and left for their individual homes. So, now that the whole thing was over, the night found Mulder and Scully back where the evening had begun. Back in the living room, with an air of awkwardness that seemed to have become intensified after the events of the night. Both were lost in thought as they leaned back in the couch. Each stared at the walls, the floor, everywhere except at each other. Mulder considered the changes that had occurred that evening. All the fears he'd nurtured before were gone, but were replaced by all new ones. Her questions to Natalie aside, he'd been worried that Scully wouldn't want a relationship with a mortal. Now, he found he was an immortal as well. And that would have been great, if only it had happened differently. Now, he was immortal, but also some sort of monster. When he'd been told about being brought across earlier that evening, he'd attempted the transformation without a thought. But when he heard the gasp from his partner, his heart had literally skipped a beat. For her to be so visibly startled... He could only imagine how he must have looked. He could almost feel the waves of horror and revulsion Scully must have felt at seeing him like that. Once again he cursed a god he'd never believed in for giving him the gift of immortality, and then tacking on such a horrible price to it. Unfortunately, vampirism did not bestow upon him the ability to read minds, at least not that he was aware of. Otherwise, he would have been surprised at the thoughts running through his partner's head. While he was bemoaning his fate, she was mentally kicking herself for her cowardice. When she'd been confronted with the reality of Mulder's transformation in the kitchen... to say she'd been shocked would have been putting it mildly. But she'd also been somewhat scared by it. She'd quickly pulled the mask of professionalism over her feelings until she could get the whole thing sorted out in her mind. Now, after having the whole evening to think about it, she realized guiltily that she hadn't said a word to Mulder since he'd been brought across. 'Some friend I am.' She thought about the conversation she'd had with Natalie back at the warehouse. She had managed to catch her friend alone for a few minutes while Mulder and the others were busy taking care of the remaining vampires. When she'd asked Nat about Mulder, she was shocked that she hadn't realized it herself. Nat told her that Mulder was most probably feeling scared right now, terrified of the changes in him. At least, that was how Nick had described being brought across to her. And she realized that she'd probably compounded his fear by being so abrupt with him in the kitchen earlier. 'God, how could I have been so stupid?' she berated herself. Knowing Mulder as she did, she concurred wholeheartedly with Nat's assessment. Right now, she'd lay odds that Mulder was seriously reconsidering his ideas about what he'd started before they'd been interrupted by the killer. 'Damn him.' Didn't he know that she loved him for who he was, not who he appeared to be? 'Mulder, there's no way I'm letting you chicken out again. I've waited for you for far too long to let something like this get in my way. And, if I have to begin this time, well then...' With that thought firmly entrenched in her mind, she jumped up and walked over to the stereo. Mulder was jerked out of his self doubting thoughts when he heard the radio being switched on. He looked up as Scully walked over to him. "I believe you owe me a dance." She held out her hand expectantly. Not knowing exactly how to interpret this gesture, Mulder reached out tentatively, and was surprised when she grasped his hand and pulled him up forcefully. He felt a ray of hope blossom as she pulled him to the center of the room. She placed her hands around him, pulling him close as the music continued. He, in turn, placed his hands around her, luxuriating in the feel of her in his arms. He sighed when she placed her head on his chest, and almost couldn't resist the temptation to hug her a little tighter. But a small nagging doubt still remained in the back of his mind. He still felt he had to give her every opportunity to back away. And he knew that if he didn't do so soon, he probably wouldn't ever be able to give her up. It would be much too hard to do so. Gritting his teeth, he thought, 'It's now or never...' "Scully... You don't have to...," he began, but didn't get to finish his sentence before she cut him off. "Mulder," she whispered, lifting her head to meet his eyes. She could clearly see the pain it had caused him to say that. She smiled as she realized that she had anticipated this, she knew him that well. And she loved him all the more for it, this unselfish gesture on his part. "What I said before..." She waited to see that he understood what she was talking about. "I meant it, Mulder." She watched him swallow as the import of what she'd said sank in. "I meant it then, and I mean it now. I love you, Fox William Mulder. I think I always have, although I didn't realize it until I thought you were dead back in New Mexico. When I saw the boxcar, I thought about what my life would be like without you in it. And I found myself not liking that life one bit." "How could you love me, Scully?" His heart thudded in his chest as he tried to convince her otherwise. He'd had so many disappointments in his life, he had to be absolutely sure before he opened his heart to anyone else. He knew he wouldn't survive another loss. Especially not her. He wouldn't want to. "How could you possibly love someone like me, especially as I am now? I've caused you nothing but grief. You've practically lost half your family because of me. Your father, your sister, your daughter. Because of me, and the X-files, you can't remember what happened for three months of your life. Because of me, you almost died of cancer." "Stop it, Mulder." Her voice held a note of pain as he enumerated all the things he thought she had lost. "I don't care if you're a vampire or a 'monster' as you're so bent on painting yourself to be. You're Fox Mulder, and that is never going to change. You're loyal, and sweet, and caring. You're my best friend, Mulder, and the best partner I could ever have, both professionally and personally. I love you, Mulder, for who you are." She paused to let the meaning of her last words sink in. "And none of those things you mentioned were your fault. Yes, I was assigned to the X-Files at first. But when they were reopened, I asked to be reassigned to them. Do you hear me? It was *my* choice. And only you would take the blame for something like my father's heart attack." Her chuckle vanished as her voice turned serious. "And if anything, my sister's death was my fault, not yours." Mulder sucked in a breath at her confession. How could she possibly blame herself for Melissa's death? "She was killed by people who were trying to kill me. If they'd shot me, at least I would have survived." When he finally figured out what she meant, he placed a finger on her lips. "No, don't say that, Scully. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. You thought it was Skinner who was going to kill you." She smiled when she heard him say that. "Do you hear what you're saying, Mulder?" When he glanced at her quizzically, she replied, "It wasn't your fault either, Mulder, any more than it was mine. If anyone is to be blamed, it's those bastards in the Consortium who've taken so much from us. We both made our choices, Mulder, and now we have to live with those choices, good or bad. And, right now, I don't for one moment regret the choice I made when I told you how I felt about you." The words stuck in her mouth when he placed a hand behind her head, pulling her back towards him. Her head rested on his shoulder as she placed her hand on his neck. She could feel his tears when they fell into her hair as his choked whisper reached into the very depths of her soul. "Oh, Scully... god... my beautiful, darling Dana. I'm trying to give you every chance to walk away, but you're making this so damn hard. You should know that I won't ever be able to give you up. I don't know that I could ever live without you." His voice dropped even lower, until she could hardly heard his hushed whisper. "I don't know that I would even want to." Words failed her at his heart-rending confession. She knew of each of his losses, each disappointment that had hurt him so much. But his words left her speechless. He needed her that much? Could she take on the responsibility of loving him, someone who needed to be loved so desperately? Would she be up to the challenge? Yes, she would, she told herself. She loved him that much. But how to say that to him? How to make him believe it? Her question was answered when she heard the next song start on the radio. She smiled as she clasped him tighter, turning in time to the song. As they danced, she whispered, "Listen to this song, Mulder. It says exactly how I feel about you." She held him close, letting the strains of the song wash over them. "I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy. I'll be your hope, I'll be your love be everything that you need. I love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do... I will be strong, I will be faithful, cause I'm counting on A new beginning. A reason for living. A deeper meaning." "Let me in, Mulder," she breathed when she felt the words of the song, and the meaning behind them, sink in. She could feel the understanding dawn upon him as he held her as tight as she did him. "Let me be all these things for you. Let this be our new beginning." "I want to stand with you on the mountain. I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me." "You hear that, Mulder? That's how I feel, the same as you do. I do want to stay like this forever, because then I would be with you." Her fingers moved forward, stroking his cheek, tracing those wondrous lips as she whispered, "I love you." She paused, looking up into his eyes, searching for a sign of his acceptance of what she'd just told him. She got her answer when he bent his head towards her. The same look that had been there earlier that evening now graced both their eyes as their lips met, confirming their feelings for each other. Imagination could take a hike. This was the real thing. He had hoped, and he had dreamed, but he'd never thought this day would come. Yet he was here, and she was here, and it was perfect. He was actually kissing her. And the spark that flew between them, the fire it kindled within him as their lips devoured each other's, threatened to consume him in its burning intensity. "I love you too, Scully." The words sounded slightly breathless as Mulder pulled away from the kiss. "More than you could possibly imagine." She immediately missed the soft presence of his lips when he pulled away. She looked up into the dark swirls that had once been clear hazel, the depth of his desire fairly glowing in them. Her breath caught as she realized that it was for her. She had caused this reaction in him, she thought in awe. "Oh really, Mulder? I can imagine quite a lot," she asked him teasingly, desperate for the feel of those sensuous lips upon her once again. "Really, Scully," he replied as he heard the final verses of the song die away. He bent down, placing a kiss along her collarbone, eliciting a delightful shiver from her. Her sudden gasp and the ensuing moan was all the permission he needed to continue. "Truly." His lips traveled up her neck, and along her jaw, trailing kisses all the way. She could hardly hold back her shuddering response to his actions as his mouth reached the sensitive skin just below and behind her ear. "Very madly." The lips moved again, back along her jaw, closer, ever so close to their final target. "And, oh, so very deeply." The final, husky whisper was almost eclipsed by the sweet sensation as his lips crept up her chin, finally claiming her lips as she once again felt their sweet softness against her own. A hint of salty sunflower seeds, an interspersed whisper of the garlic bread he'd been eating when she'd found him in the kitchen earlier, all combined with the intoxicating taste that was uniquely and undeniably Mulder, assailed her senses. She couldn't drink enough of the sweet nectar. She could barely contain the moan as she felt his hands rise from her waist, pushing up her shirt and sliding up the bare skin of her back. Every time she'd felt his hands at the small of her back, she'd wondered what it would be like to feel them without the hindering presence of her clothes. Now she knew that she'd never be able to feel the same gesture again without this particular moment flashing across her mind. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as her lips crushed against his. He felt her tongue push against his mouth, questioning, seeking, begging for entry. He opened his mouth, welcoming her in. Their tongues dueled for dominance, neither one backing down, neither one the victor or the loser. He felt her hands release their tight grip on his hair and meander downwards. Before he knew it, his shirt was pulled out of his jeans, her questing fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. With a pang of regret, he pulled back from her. Five years of longing, followed by five days of anticipation, couldn't keep the plaintive whimper from escaping her lips at the sudden loss she felt. She barely heard his shaky voice through the sensuous haze that surrounded her. "Much as I hate to stop, Scully, I think we'd better take this into the bedroom now." His breathing was ragged as he tried to explain. "I don't think I'll be able to stop if we go any further." When she nodded her agreement, he immediately swept her up off her feet. He heard her startled gasp, then an unexpected giggle as he turned towards his bedroom. He glanced at her in amazement. In all the years they'd been together, he'd seen her smile, and he'd heard her laugh. But he'd never once heard her giggle. And the silvery tinkle only served to heighten his desire for her that much more. Unable to wait until he reached the bed, she pulled his head down to hers, capturing his lips between her teeth, biting down on his lower lip, then pulling back. It was enough to cause him to stagger slightly. Quickly getting back his bearings, he returned the kiss as he steadied himself. Somehow he found his way to the bed. Finally reaching it, he gently lowered her onto it, climbing in beside her. His lips were still locked onto hers when he felt her fingers trying to pull his shirt up higher, desperately seeking the warmth of the skin underneath. His hands reached over to the top button on her shirt, pausing as he pulled back to look at her. His eyes asked a silent question, "Are you sure?" With a growl of exasperation, she reached up and tore his shirt off, telling him in no uncertain terms that, yes, she was sure. And that there were dire consequences in store for him if he didn't get a move on. He smiled, accepting her demonstrative invitation as he proceeded to unbutton her shirt. He then moved in, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of the uncharted territory. His lips trailed fiery kisses from her lips, down her neck and along her throat, reaching farther down as she felt the heady sensation envelop her. She, in turn, managed to divest him of his restrictive clothes, pulling him closer as she once again claimed his mouth in hers. Their minds sang as their bodies danced to the age-old tune, the two lonely souls finally together, now, and forever more. It was almost morning before exhaustion finally claimed them, and they gave in to the spell of sleep that washed over them, their bodies sated for now, their minds still reeling from the ecstasy they had shared, the closeness, the intimacy. If there had been any doubt before, it was gone now, vanished, destroyed by the act they had performed, binding them together in mind, body and spirit. It was with a sigh of satisfaction and a silent prayer of thanks that Fox Mulder and Dana Scully finally allowed themselves to close their eyes, nestled in each other's arms. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Mulder Residence, Seattle, WA Thursday, February 19, 1998 11:43 AM She was having a wonderful dream. Finally, after years of desperate longing, night after night of unfulfilled desire, she had been granted her heart's fondest wish. Fox Mulder. She did not want to wake up. She fought against the encroaching awareness that signified consciousness, resisting with all her will, yet unable to stave off the inevitable. She nuzzled her head further into the unexpectedly soft, warm pillow, trying, hoping to fall back into the welcome arms of sleep once more. Unfortunately she couldn't quite make it. She reluctantly opened first one eye, then the other, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Two strange beds in one week. Must be some kind of record, she mused. Today was something special, she remembered. But what? Her sleep addled mind searched for an answer. The soft rise and fall of her pillow gave her a reply she joyously accepted. It was the morning after... the morning after the night before. She let loose a contented sigh. No dream this. She blushed as the events of the previous night came flooding back. One particular memory caused the blush to deepen. She hadn't thought that particular move was even possible. She realized what she had been missing all these years, and thanked God that they had finally come to their senses. Who knew how long they would have carried on otherwise? She shuddered at the thought of her life before yesterday, lonely and without much hope for a future. Never again, she vowed. But enough of such thoughts. It was a new day, and she intended to make the most of it. She let the sensation of cuddling against a warm Mulder invade every pore of her body, allowing her senses to take in the scene that greeted her. Her eyes drank in the sight of the gorgeous man lying underneath her. She closed her eyes again, taking in the smell that she intended to become intimately familiar with over the course of their vacation, and for a long time afterwards. She could hardly believe it. She was in bed with Fox Mulder, her head on his chest, gently moving up and down to the rhythm of his breathing, her left hand draped so casually over... Oh my! She quickly moved it up, placing her palm underneath her cheek, feeling for the strong reassuring heartbeat that she knew was right... over... here? She smiled from behind closed eyelids. Wrong side, Dr. Scully. She moved her palm from the left side of his body to the right, frowning as her hands searched for the familiar beat. The sleep leached out of her as her questing hands came up short. Wait a minute! The heart was on the left side. What the... She couldn't feel a heartbeat! She jerked awake, her eyes snapping open. 'Oh god, I've killed him,' was the first thought that passed through her mind. Her hands moved over his heart, ready to administer CPR before she realized something. He was breathing. She held her hands underneath his nose. Yep, definitely still breathing. And if that wasn't enough, his chest was very visibly rising... and falling. Whoa there... What was wrong with this picture? You shouldn't be able to breathe if your heart wasn't beating, were you? All her years of medical training agreed with her, yet the body of her new lover stubbornly refused to accept the laws of reality as she knew them. The sense of panic subsided somewhat when she recalled her conversation with her friend the night before. Wondering what other changes she would have to get used to, she reached out to place her palm against his cheek, reminding herself once again, reassuring herself that they weren't supposed to be able to die. God, but he looked adorable. What was it about sleeping men anyway? Somehow, his face had lost all the burdens he carried during his waking hours, reverting instead to the innocence of childhood. What she wouldn't give to preserve him like this forever? But there were more urgent matters at hand, she reminded herself, like waking him up, for instance. Softly at first, she allowed herself a tentative, "Mulder?" When he showed no sign that he'd even heard her, she stepped it up a notch. "Mulder." No effect. Then, "*MULDER*!" That finally got through. He woke up with a jerk. "WHAT? What? I'm awake. What happened?" The panicked expression in his eyes slowly waned when he felt her reassuring hands on him. The palm she'd held over his chest calmly confirmed that his heart was once again firing on all thrusters. She let out a sigh of relief as she waited for him to come fully awake. She watched as he rubbed his palms over sleep lidded eyes. "Could we have done that with a little less oomph, Scully? Jeez, I think you gave me a heart attack." Her jaw dropped as she sputtered. "Me...? Give you...? Why you..." She lightly swatted his arm. "If anything, you should be thanking me for restarting your heart." At his confused glance, she explained, "Nat mentioned last night that Nick's heart doesn't beat, and LaCroix said that sometimes his beats and sometimes it doesn't. He wasn't quite sure how that worked." She shrugged. "Something to do with voluntary and involuntary muscles. So... I wasn't too worried when I couldn't find your heartbeat before you woke up, but it did kinda throw me for a loop." She gave him a slight grin. "I guess I'm still getting used to the changes." The grin widened into a smile. "Besides, I think I'm going to get my kicks from startling you awake every morning. It's waaaay too much fun," she drawled, running a fingernail down his chest, tickling him slightly. He squirmed when he felt her run her finger down his side, and made a quick move to grab her wrist. He moved it away from his side, causing her to lose her balance and fall over his stomach. "From what I remember, Scully" he began, his fingers letting go of her wrist as he ran his hands up her arms and down her sides, causing the most delicious sensations to pool in the pit of her stomach, "that wasn't how you got your kicks last night." The grin on his face was now a full-fledged leer. "Oh, really?" One eyebrow danced up, her face settling into the classic 'You've got to be kidding me,' look, although the accompanying smile spoiled the image somewhat. "Well, Agent Mulder," she said in as stern a voice as she could manage, which wasn't much considering the grin she was desperately trying to bite off. "Some of us aren't blessed with a photographic memory, you know. Maybe you'd care to refresh my failing memory." She managed to deliver the last line with a perfect pout. 'Okay,' Mulder acknowledged, 'the pout was adorable.' But the barely contained smile that threatened to break through at any moment was exciting. And the hands that trailed down his side, seeking then finding their target, were nothing short of pure, mind-numbing ecstasy. He managed a groan before all words, and all thoughts, were cut off by her mouth descending upon his. The only conscious idea he could manage before giving up was a delighted, 'Here we go again!' The next coherent thought in the room didn't take place for another few hours. ----------------------------------------------------------------- 2:12 PM The next time they woke up, it was to hear the oh, so soothing blare of the telephone. After swatting at an imaginary alarm clock a couple of times, Scully finally managed to grab hold of the phone and mumbled a sleepy, but annoyed, "What?" Didn't people have better things to do than call in the middle of the... afternoon? Her eyes squinted in the dim sunlight that filtered through the blinds. Her silent diatribe was interrupted by the chuckle on the other end of the line. "The least you could do is thank me, you know. Duncan wanted to call at 8:30 in the morning to make sure you guys were all right. I managed to convince him that you two needed your beauty sleep." Another chuckle, then a sigh. "Guys can be so dense sometimes." "Nat? Is that you?" Dana was still trying to figure out the part about why she should thank her friend. "Dana?" Natalie's voice held a note of amused concern. "Are you okay? What did that partner of yours do to you?" Dana blushed. "Ha. Ha. Very funny, Natalie. As it so happens, I am in full control of all my faculties." Of course, the statement was totally invalidated by the squeal she let loose as she felt said partner's hands caress a fairly sensitive part of her anatomy. "Mulder...," she hissed, but not before she heard the laughter next to her ear. She glared at the pouting look that surrounded the twinkling eyes in front of her, her hands hastily trying to cover the mouthpiece before she could embarrass herself any further. "Whoops. Looks like it's still too early for you two. Tell you what, Dana. Why don't you two skip practice for today and... ummm... rest up? I'm sure a day in bed will just work wonders." Dana could almost see her friend's smile through the phone. "Why, thank you so much for your kind suggestion, Dr. Lambert. I might just follow your advice," she retorted, trying to push two very inquisitive hands away from doing things too disruptive to her thought processes. A final chuckle, followed by a "You do that, Dana. I'll talk to you later. Me, Nick and Duncan will be at Joe's bar, if you want to come by tonight. Mulder knows where it is." "Ok, Nat. Bye." She hung up the phone, then turned to face him. "Mulder..." 'Uh, oh, I'm in trouble now.' Mulder pasted on the soulful look that had let him get away with murder with so many people. 'Oh god. The Look! He's giving me the Look.' She could feel her stern resolve melting. But she had to try. "Mulder. What if that had been Skinner?" "Skinner? Calling here? On our vacation? Really, Scully. You're going to have to do better than that." "Oh, I'll do better all right. Why don't you come here and find out how much better?" The smile was back, magnified tenfold. Mulder opened his mouth in an expression of mock shock. "Down, woman." That earned him a glare. "You're insatiable, aren't you? I think I've created a monster. Aren't you hungry at all? After the workout you gave me, I could eat a horse." He turned to get out of the bed. He was stopped by the tone he detected in her voice. "Mulder..." When he turned to look at her, she was turned away from him. When he tilted her chin to face him, she still wouldn't meet his eyes. He frowned. "Scully...?" The silent question hung in the air. "Do you...? I have to know. Do you regret...?" He stopped her before she could complete her question. He placed a finger on her lips. "Never..." For all its softness, the whisper carried the force of a thunderstorm. "How could you possibly think that?" His voice held a note of pain. "Let me tell you something, Scully, something I swore I would never have to tell you." The forceful voice, hushed as it was, caught her attention. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and gasped at the intensity of the pain she detected. "The time when you were returned from your abduction, and your mother and Melissa decided that you should be taken off the life support, something in me broke. The evening before you woke up, X told me that the people who were responsible for your abduction would come by my apartment, thinking it empty. I was to wait in the dark and kill them when they came." The pain in his eyes was clear in his voice now. "You were about to die, Scully. And I couldn't do a goddamn thing about it." He paused to take a deep breath. "Do you know how helpless that made me feel? How useless? I couldn't do anything for you." His voice was quavering now, and he didn't even try to conceal the tears brimming in his eyes. "Oh, Mulder..." "No, let me finish. I need to say this." Gritting his teeth, he continued, "I was waiting for them to come. I had already decided to kill them. And it would have been so easy." He closed his eyes, reliving those horrendous moments once again. "And then, do you know what I was going to do?" He swallowed. "I was going to turn the gun on myself." "No..." Her eyes widened in shock. 'NO!' her mind screamed. 'Not you.' But the words wouldn't come out. "You were going to die, Scully," he repeated. "I didn't have anything to live for. If it wasn't for Melissa coming by to convince me that you needed me that night..." he trailed off, a bitter smile forming on his face. "Well, let's just say that I'd have been pretty surprised the next morning." The tears that suddenly broke free on his face were mirrored in hers. She moved forward, pulling him into a fierce hug. She held him tightly. He loved her that much? Even then? Suddenly, she felt horrible for having even thought that... She felt him grasp her shoulders and pull her away. "What about you, Scully? That you even had to ask... I mean... You don't...?" "Never, Mulder. Not ever," She shook her head emphatically. "It took us this long to get together. And I'll be damned if I ever let you go." "Forever is a long time, Scully." But she could already see the smile breaking through the tears. "Like the song said, Mulder." She felt the smile on her face echoing his. "Until the sky falls down on me." "Knowing you, Scully, I'm sure you'll find some way to shore it up if that ever happens." The tears were fast disappearing as the playful mood from earlier was recaptured. "Damn straight! So I guess you're stuck with me for a while." She wiped her moist eyes, turning to get out of the bed. "C'mon." She reached for his hand. "Let's get something to eat. You were right. I am starved." "Nobody else I'd rather be stuck with." He grinned as he followed her to the kitchen. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Fox Mulder was worried. Hell, he was scared out of his skin. He had to have a talk with Nick, find out about any adverse effects to his condition. He couldn't go on like this. Here he was, sitting at the kitchen table, wearing his birthday suit. Sitting across from him, his partner... friend... lover? was wearing pretty much the same thing. And he couldn't think of one thing to say. Forget that. He couldn't think of one thing to think! He watched her calmly peel some fruit. Grapes, to be exact. Seedless grapes. He saw the perfect teeth grasp the skin of a grape between them, and slowly peel it off. He gulped. She repeated the process, working her way around the little piece of fruit, until the fleshy meat inside was completely exposed. He couldn't take his eyes off the tantalizing lips as they caressed the grape, sucking on it and then licking off the juice that ran down her wrist. Finally, she placed the grape on her tongue, sucking it in between her teeth, and chewing on it. He heard her say something, but for the life of him, he couldn't make out one word. He was hypnotized by the gentle movement of her jaw. He could feel his vaunted IQ slowly dropping until it matched the grape that he wished he'd been born as. She watched him staring at her mouth. He didn't even register when she'd stopped talking, nor did he notice her eyes watching his as he followed her mouth. She smiled. God, she loved this man. Never before had someone looked at her, doing nothing but eating a grape, with such adoration and desire. She let out a chuckle. Of course, her current state of dress, or rather, undress, probably didn't hurt either. He still wasn't listening. She decided to try again. "Mulder?" It took a couple of tries before he finally raised his eyes from her mouth. "If you're done staring," she paused, grinning at the blush that suddenly appeared, "I was thinking, maybe I could take a shower." "Shower?" Obviously, he was still having trouble in the concentration department. She saw his eyes drop again to her lips, and she couldn't resist a small chuckle. "Yes, Mulder. You know, with the bathroom, and the water, and soap..." "Soap?" Ok, this was bordering on ridiculous. If she didn't do something soon, she would end up with a vegetable on her hands. 'Can't have that now, can we?' She shook her head and got up to place the bowl in the sink, then walked back to the table. He watched her walking back. Now that the grape had found its way down to Never Never Land, he couldn't watch the delicate movements of her mouth anymore. But, that was okay, he thought with a dreamy smile. Now there were the graceful hips to be looked at, gently swaying... to and fro... to and fro... His eyes rocked slowly from left to right, following the slight sway as she came closer. 'I'm in so much trouble,' the part of his brain that still functioned cried out. The rest of him just replied with a dreamy, 'Uh-hunh.' "Mulder." She knelt in front of him, taking his hands in hers. "Come on. Get up." 'Awww, shoot! No more hips,' the disappointed thought ran through his mind, then was replaced with another smile. 'But the lips are back!' "Mulder. If you don't get a grip, I'm going to have to shower by myself." She managed to inject a whining note into her voice, but to no avail. "Huh?" He couldn't notice anything except the way her lips moved. How had he not noticed the hypnotizing movements before? If this was how it was going to affect him, his career in the FBI was over. "Ok. Fine," she said in exasperation, getting up once again. She turned towards her room. "You stay here and stare off into space. I'm going to go take a shower." With that, she headed out of the kitchen. The sudden loss of her presence finally got through the wondrous haze surrounding his brain. With a start, he blinked, then looked around the room, vainly trying to find her. He tried to remember what she'd been talking about while his brain had decided to wander off to Disneyland. He frowned. 'Something about taking a shower...' The frown was immediately replaced with a smile. ----------------------------------------------------------------- The water felt so good, and hot, as it cascaded down her shoulders. She sighed, allowing herself a small smile. It was just what she needed. Getting up at two in the afternoon was positively decadent. She hadn't done that since... She shook her head ruefully. She'd never done that before. 'Too bad Mulder was still acting like a two year old,' she thought. She poured out a handful of shampoo and lathered her hair. What was with him anyway? 'You'd think he'd never seen me eat before.' She paused, her hand still entangled in her hair, when she smelt it. She frowned, trying to make it out. It was pretty faint, and she knew it was definitely not the shampoo. Suddenly, the light turned off, leaving the room lit with soft flickers of yellow and gold. Finally, it hit her. 'Jasmine?' That was as far as she got before the curtain was pulled open. She saw the candles through the opening before the sight was hidden once again. She smiled, watching him enter the tub. "So, you decided to come to your senses after all?" Her smile was infectious, causing him to return one of his own. "Couldn't let you waste all that water now, could I? Conservation and all that, you know." "Really?" She continued with the shampoo, watching his every movement. He moved closer. "Mmmhmmm..." His lips closed over hers, his hands moving up to find hers. "Mulder...?" Her voice was muffled by the kiss. "Mmmm?" "What are you doing?" "Exercising my right?" he ventured as he continued to lather her hair. The eyebrow rose. "Umm... Performing my duty?" he quickly amended. The eyebrow came back down. "Much better. Now get cracking." "Yes, ma'am." ----------------------------------------------------------------- "The state of Washington has declared an emergency due to a sudden water shortage in the Seattle area. Residents are being cautioned to ration their use of water until the shortage can be rectified." Scully swatted his arm as she stepped out of the shower. "We weren't in there that long, Mulder." In answer, he simply pointed to the counter where the two candles were down to their last flickers. "When I lit them, they were brand new. You do the math." She looked out the tiny window in the bathroom. Her jaw dropped when she saw that it was almost dusk. Suddenly, her eyes were covered by the towel as she felt his fingers rubbing it, drying her hair. "C'mon, short stuff. We'd better get ready if we're going to meet the guys at Joe's," he said, rubbing vigorously. "You know, I think I could get used to some of these vampiric abilities. When you were talking on the phone earlier, I could hear Nat loud and clear, even as far away as I was." "Mulder..." she ventured as he finished drying her hair. When he pulled the towel off, she continued, "Do you think I'm too short? I've seen the way you look at some of the female agents at VCS. And I could hardly compare to the women in your magazines. How come you didn't fall for someone more your height?" He smiled as he realized something. Beautiful as she was, she still couldn't believe that she was as breathtaking as he said she was. Well, he'd just have prove her wrong. He placed his hand in the familiar position at the small of her back, guiding her towards the full length mirror. He turned her towards him, then pulled her into a tight embrace. When she glanced up at him, he gestured towards the mirror. "Look over there, Scully. Tell me what you see." She placed her head against his chest, her head just fitting under his chin, her hands going under his arms and around his waist. She looked at the mirror, staring at the two figures looking back at them. "I see us, Mulder," she replied, wondering where this was going. "Yes, but have you ever seen such a perfect fit? Not only do I get a partner with the most brilliant and logical mind to complement my sometimes illogical beliefs, but we're well matched in every other way as well. If you were any taller, we'd be bumping noses every time we hugged." He turned back to look down at her, smiling when he saw her smile back at him. "So, no, I don't think you're short. I think you're the perfect height." He leaned down to place a tender kiss on the tip of her nose. "And I think you're perfect in everything else." "Mulder? How do you always say just the right thing?" "It's a gift. One in five billion, you know," he replied with a self-aggrandizing smile. She let out a small laugh. "You're so full of it, Mulder." "Hey, I managed to get you to laugh, didn't I? I must be good. Seriously, though, you have no idea how beautiful you look when you laugh. I only wish I could get you to do it more often." She couldn't do anything except smile at the obvious compliment. "I love you, Mulder." "And I love you, Scully." This time the kiss caught her lips, taking her breath away. "Don't ever doubt that." ----------------------------------------------------------------- Joe's bar 7:03 PM The lights from the ceiling didn't quite reach into the corner table, leaving it shrouded in semi-darkness. Not that the two occupants minded. In fact, unlike the group a couple of tables over, they were more interested in catching up on past history. After all, it had been a while. "Almost two centuries," the deceptively younger looking man said, swirling the scotch he held in his hand. "Yes, time does fly, does it not?" The blond man seated across from him nodded. "And you still haven't changed, have you? Tell me, is Nick still searching for his mythical cure?" "In case you haven't noticed, Methos," the other responded sarcastically, nodding towards Nick and the others, "Nicholas is currently enamored with the good Dr. Lambert. I don't foresee him striving to become mortal anytime in the near future. And exactly what do you mean by change. I see no reason..." "Of course not," Methos cut him off. "Although, now that Nick has given up this 'foolish quest', as you so often described it, you probably have it easier." "I fail to understand..." Methos blinked, then smiled at the other's ignorance. "Allow me to enlighten you, my friend. You know what your problem is? "Ah. Now I have a problem, do I?" "You do indeed." Methos held up his glass and peered at it. Almost time for a refill. "Maybe I should get you one too. They say it solves all problems." "Not yet." LaCroix smiled. "I have no desire to try anything other than blood at the moment." He motioned a 'go ahead' gesture with his hands. "But do tell. Exactly how many problems do I have?" "I'll tell you what your problem is, Lucien. You need a woman." With that, Methos sat back, sipping at his glass. "Excuse me?" The pale face now sported an incredulous look. "Not like that. I meant, you need someone." A pause. "How long have we known each other? Almost two millenia? And you are still one of the loneliest people I've ever met." "People who live in glass houses, Methos..." LaCroix shook his head. His face affected a venomous grin. "Tell me, how is Alexa these days?" Methos' eyes narrowed at the statement. "Low blow, LaCroix. She's dead, and you know it," he hissed. "And you are a fool. You fell in love with a mortal, my friend. And what do you have left now? At least you could have had the good sense to choose one who wasn't dying. I think I have the better end of the deal. I have no one to lose. It makes it so much easier." "Safer, you mean." "How dare you?" The vampire's eyes flashed dangerously. "You try so hard to hold onto your precious son, when he couldn't care less about whether you approve of him or not. Yet you deny your loneliness. Explain that, Lucien." "I don't need anyone." "There you go again. Then what do you care whether he finds a cure or not? What does it matter if he tries to leave you, if he tries to become mortal again? I know you've fought against him on this for more than a century. If you don't need him, tell me why..." "Because he is my son," LaCroix whispered fiercely. "That is reason enough. Besides, as I mentioned before, I hardly think he's going to try for a cure, now that the good doctor has become immortal." "You know what I think? I think you're afraid." When his friend simply stared at him, Methos sipped from his drink again before he continued, "I think you're afraid that if he ever were to regain his humanity, you won't have anyone in your life anymore. At least, no one who cared." "You are treading on dangerous territory, my friend. I would advise you to drop the subject immediately." "Or what, Lucien? I was in love with Alexa. Can you say the same? Have you ever been in love? I mean, really in love. Ever?" Methos was startled when he saw the other's eyes close as if in pain. He didn't have to wait for a spoken reply. "You have, haven't you? What happened?" "She was mortal." LaCroix let out a rueful chuckle. "She was Nicholas' sister. I wanted to bring her across, but Nicholas forbade it." "I'm sorry, Lucien. I didn't know. If I may ask, why didn't you? You have gone against his wishes before. And back then, you would have hardly known him for more than a year." "A week, actually," the other whispered. "He took me to meet his family a week after I brought him across." He paused, thinking about the rest of what Methos had asked. "To answer your question, because you were right. It is infinitely safer to try to hold on to what you have, than to try to find something that was never meant to be. Vampires do not have relationships. It is unheard of in our community." "But have you ever looked? Have you ever allowed yourself to be open to the possibility..." "Not after... no. I haven't." "Perhaps you should. It helps to have someone to share with. Believe me. It took me a while to realize it myself." "I don't think so," the other replied bluntly. "Immortal relationships never work. And I have no desire to lose anyone to mortality." "Are you saying that Nicholas and Dr. Lambert are doomed to fail? Scully and Mulder?" "I..." His answer was cut off at the new buzzing sensation both of them felt. The two oldest immortals in the bar looked up in time to see the two youngest come in. The man glanced around, and spotting the group of people a few tables over, nudged the woman to point them out. "Looking at them, you wouldn't think so, would you?" Methos prodded, his eyes following the agents as they walked over to their friends. "The future is never written in stone. Who knows...? But that is none of my business. If they wish to live out some sort of a fantasy relationship, who am I to interfere?" Methos paused, considering this before replying. "Who indeed? Personally, I think you're denying yourself something fulfilling." "Be that as it may. However, I think we have a more interesting matter to discuss, do we not?" Methos looked over at his friend, noticing that his eyes seemed riveted on the newcomers. "Ah! I was wondering when you were going to mention that." "It's not them, of course. But the resemblence is..." "Uncanny? Yes it is, isn't it?" "Ancestors maybe?" Methos simply raised his eyebrow. "Really, Lucien. Can't you come up with a better argument?" LaCroix turned widening eyes onto his friend. "You're not suggesting..." He turned back to take another look at the other table. His voice dropped to a whisper. "It can't be. It's been almost two millenia. They don't feel anywhere near as old as that." "Don't you think I know that?" Methos allowed himself another draught before continuing. "Of course it's not possible. But no immortal I've known has ever had any family, let alone ancestors. It has to be them." "No. It is just a coincidence." The voice clearly indicated his disbelief. "Well, it's been so long, I'm somewhat surprised you remembered them at all." "As I said, mere coincidence. Simply a matter of mistaken identity." LaCroix sighed, shaking his head. "And I see it is almost time for me to take my leave." He pushed his chair back from the table and got up. "Good health, my friend. And farewell," he said as he turned and walked away. The remaining occupant leaned back as he drained the last few drops from his glass. As the music wound down, he turned from his departing friend to the others. Did he really want to know... ----------------------------------------------------------------- "I'm so sorry about earlier, Dana. I really thought I'd given you enough time." Natalie blushed as she said the words. "That's okay, Nat." Dana smiled at her friend, carrying the drinks as she walked back with her to the table. "How'd you know, anyway? It's not that obvious, is it?" Nat smiled. "I just figured it was a matter of time. And after last night's events, after our talk... I don't know. I just... knew, I guess." This time it was Dana's turn to blush. "Besides, you're glowing brighter than Joe's sign, you know." The blush deepened. They reached the table, Scully sitting down next to Mulder, Nat between Nick and Duncan. They all turned toward the stage as the faint twang of guitar strings slowly wafted over. They'd arrived in time to hear Joe perform one of his blues numbers, and were relaxing until the song was over. Mulder leaned over, whispering to Duncan. "What's up with your friend," he asked, jerking his thumb to the couple in the corner, a few tables away. Duncan glanced over to see Methos and LaCroix talking in low voices. He shrugged. "They're probably catching up on old times. Adam mentioned that he hadn't seen LaCroix for over a century." Mulder nodded, amazed at Duncan's casual reference to something that was still hard for him to believe. Living forever... He shook his head. Intellectually, he could understand it. Getting used to it, on the other hand, would probably take a while. But that was okay... he had the time. He paused as a question popped into his head. "Joe's your Watcher, right?" When Duncan nodded, he asked, "Have Scully and I been assigned Watchers yet?" "Not that I know of," Duncan shrugged. "They didn't know about you before today, but, if I know Joe, he's probably already started making arrangements for you two. Why do you ask?" "I was just wondering if the Watchers know about, well, Nick, and LaCroix, and, you know, vampires in general." "Yeah, Duncan," Natalie said, curious herself. "Does this mean we'll have to be careful about Nick? Neither of us noticed any Watchers back in Toronto, but we weren't exactly looking for them. It's only a matter of time before someone watching me figures out that Nick's not getting any older." "I honestly don't know, Nat. You might want to ask LaCroix how he's managed to evade the Watchers this far. According to Adam, the Watchers have no record of him. Of course, Adam also mentioned that LaCroix hardly ever fights, so the absence of a Watcher record doesn't surprise me all that much. And although I approve of the Watchers, and I believe in what they do, I'm not looking forward to explaining to Joe about the existence of vampires." Duncan allowed himself a small smile as he pictured Joe's face if the Watcher were ever to find out about Nick or Mulder. Nick looked from Natalie to Duncan thoughtfully. "Maybe if we tell Joe, he can make sure that the Watcher assigned to Nat can keep our secret." "Or better yet," Natalie's voice rose as an idea occurred to her. Turning to Duncan, she continued, "Do you think it's possible to have someone who already knows about vampires become my Watcher?" She saw Nick frown at her comment, trying to figure out who she was talking about. Duncan shrugged. "The Watchers have always been a volunteer organization. There's probably some sort of procedure involved. Why, did you have someone in mind?" "Yep. The perfect choice. Tracy..." She saw Nick's face cloud up as he considered the idea. "She's Nick's partner," Natalie explained to the others, then turned to Nick. "Think about it, Nick. She'd be perfect. She already knows about vampires, if not about you in particular. And being your partner, she'll be around me most of the time anyway. I can't think of a more perfect person to be my Watcher." She looked from Nick to Duncan. MacLeod nodded, as did Scully. "That does seem like the best option. The less people who have to find out about Nick, the better. I'll see if I can put in a good word with Joe." Mulder voiced his agreement as well. "That's fine for you two," he told the Canadian couple. "But, if it's all the same to you guys, I'd rather not reveal myself to anybody. None of our Watchers need to know that I'm anything but a normal immortal, do they?" Duncan nodded again. "You don't have to worry about that, Mulder. I'm sure none of us is going to say anything. Of course, it goes without saying that you'll have to be extremely careful when and where you use your newfound abilities." "Oh, don't worry, Duncan." Scully lightly patted Mulder on the shoulder. "I'll be sure to keep him in line. I'm not looking forward to anyone else knowing about Mulder either." Mulder smiled in acknowledgement, then sat back to listen as the music onstage slowly came to a close. Duncan smiled as Joe set down his guitar and walked down to the table. Mulder hadn't seen Joe walk when he'd been here a couple of days ago. Curious, he asked, "What happened to your legs?" Everyone at the table turned shocked eyes at Mulder. 'Oh, God, Mulder! A little sensitivity wouldn't kill you, you know.' Scully could have strangled him. She immediately turned to Joe. "I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse him, Mr. Dawson. Brilliant as he is, he suffers from terminal foot-in-mouth disease." "That's okay, Agent Scully. And please, it's just Joe. Actually, it's somewhat refreshing to have someone just come out and ask. Usually, everyone tiptoes around the issue, pretending to ignore it. Sometimes it makes me want to laugh, seeing them trying to restrain their curiosity." "Call me Dana, Joe. And it still doesn't excuse his lack of tact." "Nah. It's no problem, really," he assured her, then turned to face Mulder. "Actually, I lost them during Nam. They were part of the reason I became a Watcher." Seeing his guests' curious looks, he tried to explain. "After I was hurt, I was rescued and brought back to camp by an immortal. There, I was approached by a Watcher. He explained to me how it was possible for a man killed in action to have rescued me after being pronounced dead. I felt that the work they were doing was important, something that needed to be done. So, here I am. That's about it in a nutshell." "Do you enjoy the work?" Mulder was curious. "Immensely," Joe replied immediately. "Being part of history, preserving it, recording it, living it. Gives you a sense of purpose, you know. Lord knows, after Nam, I needed something like that, something to hold on to." His voice took on a slightly pained note. "I'm sorry," Mulder apologized, taking note of this. "I didn't mean to dredge up bad memories." "That's okay. It's all in the past, anyway," Joe replied, his tone already regaining some of its earlier mirth. "Say, you guys work out of DC, right?" At their nods, he asked, "Do either of you know a Walter Skinner? Last I heard, he was with the FBI." Both Mulder and Scully looked at each other in astonishment. "AD Skinner?" They nodded. "He's our supervisor. How do you know him?" "AD, huh? You lose touch for a while..." He shook his head, then smiled. "I always knew old Wally would get ahead." This time, Mulder coughed and sputtered as his drink went down the wrong way. Scully barely managed to place her drink on the table herself. They both stared at Joe. "Wally?" They couldn't keep the incredulity out of their voices. "Yeah. I knew him back in Nam. Toughest kid in his battalion. Damned shame, what happened to them. Whole lot of them, wiped out, just like that." He snapped his fingers to illustrate his point. "He was the only survivor, and we got put in the same hospital tent for a while. I still don't know how he managed to get through that, but I don't blame him one bit for going civilian after that. Some of the things we saw in Nam would curl your hair." Both Mulder and Scully exchanged knowing glances at Joe's comment. His next question made them both strain to contain their laughter. "Is he still as much of a tight ass as he was back then?" "Joe, you have no idea." Mulder replied, deadpan. "It's once in a blue moon that Mulder gets through a day without a full-blown AD Skinner ass chewing," Scully piped in. Joe smiled at that, then assumed a thoughtful expression. "Hey, I have an idea. Maybe we could persuade him to be your Watcher. Being your boss, he would know where you guys were at all times." This time the laughter couldn't be contained. Joe and the others just looked at the agents in surprise. When they'd calmed down enough to be able to reply coherently, Scully explained. "Joe, no offense, but I doubt a Watcher could keep up with our schedule. Even one as highly placed as Skinner. Many of our cases take us into restricted military bases, DOD buildings like the Pentagon. I doubt that your guys could get access. We'd probably be better off watching each other." "Oh, you'd be surprised. Watchers come in all varieties. We have captains, generals, FBI, CIA, NSA, you name it. I doubt there's a place in the world we couldn't get access to. Besides, immortals can't be Watchers. You can't exactly be objective record keepers, can you?" "I thought I saw a Watcher tattoo on Adam over there," Mulder replied, gesturing with his chin towards the far table. Joe simply shook his head. "He's the only one. He only does research. And he's sorta earned the right. He won't admit to it, but I suspect he had a hand in creating the Watchers in the first place. He's trying to stay out of the Game now, and I guess he finds being a Watcher convenient. No, I'm sorry guys. But only mortal Watchers for you two. Don't worry. We have yet to find an immortal we couldn't track because of access limits." Mulder shook his head. "The kind of places we go to, if you have people with access to them, then you're in serious trouble." When Joe just looked at him questioningly, he went on. "Several of the places I've... ummm... 'gained access to' is as good a phrase as any, I suppose... have things going on in there that would not only curl your hair, but leave you wishing you were never born. I'm talking human experimentation, inhumane tests, violation of human rights... all sanctioned by shadow organizations within our own government." His voice dropped to a whisper. He turned to face his partner, their hands reaching for each other to offer mutual comfort. "Joe," Mulder struggled to find the words, "I shudder to think what would happen if someone with legitimate access to these places found out about immortals." He stopped, feeling a sudden sense of dread. "Unless, they already have." He looked around the table at the shocked expressions on each of them, disbelief warring with doubt as they looked at each other. "I know you mentioned this before, Dana, but I can't believe..." Natalie began, but was cut off by Scully. "Believe it, Nat," she hissed. She gripped Mulder's hand tighter, absorbing the support he silently gave her. She looked at him, their eyes engaging in a silent conversation. 'Should I tell them?' 'Your call, Scully. But how much, you have to decide.' She silently sent her thanks along their unspoken bond, thanks for letting her make this decision for herself, thanks for supporting her through a painful revelation, thanks for just being there for her. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she turned back to her friends. "About three years ago, in August, I was... taken... by a shadow group, a consortium, if you will. I have no memory, no recollection of what happened to me, but I was gone for three months. When I was returned, I found that I had been implanted with a computer chip at the base of my neck. We found that it was some sort of tracking device and that maybe it could also record memories. It was destroyed in the testing process, but I... we... think that it may have caused me, and several other women who were also taken, to contract terminal cancer." She swallowed, pausing before continuing. The shocked look on the others' faces only got more so. There was a faint hint of moisture in her eyes. "I was lucky. I survived. But I held one of the other women in my arms as she died." She bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. She felt Mulder place his other hand over their joined ones, then place it around her shoulders. She leaned into him, accepting, longing for, needing the comfort. "Oh, lord!" Joe let out a hushed whisper. Even Nick, who'd been listening to this quietly, had gone pale, which for him was saying something. "Our government did this?" Duncan asked in disbelief, horrified at how little he knew about this. Never in his worst nightmares had he conceived of such atrocities in this day and age. Suddenly, the witch hunts of days past didn't seem so bad. At least those, you could escape. How could you hope to escape the clutches of your own government? "Does, Duncan," Mulder corrected him. "But they're not exactly a part of our government. These people answer to no one, only themselves. They obtain funding and resources by hiding it within loopholes and legislative bureaucracy. But their agendas are their own. These people control events you couldn't possibly dream of... everything from presidential assassinations to the outcomes of sporting events. Scully and I, we've been trying to find out the truth about them for the past five years now. But we've been thwarted at every turn. Hell, we've had evidence stolen when it was locked within safes at the goddamn FBI, that's how powerful these people are." His voice was slowly rising in anger. "The only reason I've managed to get this far is because of some connections I've made. But even those aren't enough. It's only a matter of time before they stop us. I hope to god we get to them before that happens, because, if not..." He let his listeners' imaginations complete his sentence for him. Nothing they thought could be worse than the truth. "I can't say that I'm surprised." The british accent caused the group at the table to turn their heads to greet the newcomer. Adam Pierson leaned on a nearby table, his hands crossed in front of him. "Excuse me," Mulder sputtered. He looked around, noticing that LaCroix had left. "Oh, I was just saying that the existence of such groups is not that surprising. There have been shadow organizations as long as there have been governments. Take for example the Knights Templar, the Illuminati. Of course, they didn't hide in shadows back then. Nowadays, what with democracy and people's rights and what not, shadows are about the only place they can survive. But their purpose, their objectives, have remained unchanged. A handful of people single-handedly attempting to govern the world, trying to guide its progress in the belief that they know what's good for it? I've seen it a thousand times before. In varying forms, but always ever-present." Mulder's eyes narrowed at this speech. "Exactly what do you know about such organizations, Mr. Pierson? You seem to be fairly well informed about the subject." "Just because I know a little history trivia doesn't make me an expert on the topic, Mr. Mulder," Adam hastened to reassure him. "Nor does it make me a part of any such conspiracy. All I'm saying is that even if you manage to stop such people, there will always be others to take their place, ready to fill the empty shoes." He flinched at the fire that suddenly sparked in Mulder's eyes. "So no matter how hard we work to stop these people, there is no way for us to win. Isn't that what you're saying?" The space between the speakers fairly crackled with tension. "Mulder..." Scully placed a restraining hand over his own, trying to calm him down. "He's entitled to his opinions, whatever they may be." "Look, Mulder," Pierson went on blithely. "I've seen too many horrible things in this world for something like this to affect me. You want to fight the good fight? Go ahead, don't let me stop you. Just don't expect me to join you in some sort of war against these shadows. Believe me, in a couple of centuries, these villains of yours will only be a dim memory, to be replaced by some other threat to your valuable ideals. They are simply... not... worth it." With that he pushed off the table and stood up. "Duncan, Joe, I'll see you around." With a nod at those still seated, he turned and walked away. Mulder looked at his retreating back, then turned back to face the others. "And here I thought you were the depressive one, Mulder," Scully said, hoping to inject some lightness into the gloomy mood that had descended over the table. "Don't mind him, Dana. He's just an old cynic." Duncan tried to smile. "Cynic?" Mulder couldn't believe that Duncan would defend Adam after what he'd said. "He might as well be sitting in the enemies' camp." "He himself has had to do terrible things in his past. And he's seen a lot in his life," Duncan replied defensively. "All I know is that, whenever I've needed him, he's been there for me. We don't always see eye to eye, but he's been a good friend, and that's all I can ask of anybody." Mulder nodded, but had to get this off his chest. "I suppose. But you won't mind if I choose not to follow his advice?" "Mulder... Even if he wasn't, I am horrified at the things you've mentioned. I had no idea that such things were going on. And I'm even more disturbed at how little I know about it. I want you to know that if you ever need my help, please feel free to ask." He went on with determination, "Such things should not be allowed in any government, in any era." "Same thing goes for me too," Natalie said. Nick and Joe nodded as well, silently offering their support. "Thanks guys," Mulder acknowledged the offer, then decided that this particular topic had been beaten to death enough, at least for now. "So, anyone for another round?" That effectively brought the saturnine mood of the evening to a close. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Mulder Residence, Seattle, WA 9:23 PM "So how are we going to handle this?" A perfectly innocent question, on the surface. And definitely justified, given the situation. So why did it turn his stomach into more knots than were listed in a Boy Scouts manual? And how had this subject come up anyway? They'd said goodnight to their friends at the bar after promising to show up for practice the next morning without fail, bringing to a pleasant conclusion the good mood that had followed Pierson's departure. They had reached Mulder's place, no doubts as to how they intended to spend the rest of the evening. After a delightful exchange of kisses all the way from the car to the bedroom, they had finally gotten rid of their clothes and were lying on the bed. A little voice inside his head stubbornly wondered if they were spending too much time in bed, but he figured, after five years of celibacy, he was entitled. And the sight of Dana Scully straddling him, placing delicate kisses on his chest didn't exactly argue against it either. They were both simply enjoying the moment when he'd foolishly brought up a topic he now wished he'd avoided. "I guess I'll have to throw away my favorite couch now, hunh?" He hadn't really been thinking when he asked her that. It was more rhetorical than anything, and he'd only meant it as a joke. She'd pulled back from him, a questioning look in her eyes, silently demanding an explanation for his offhand comment. And he'd obliged. "Well, it *is* my favorite piece of furniture, but I hardly think both of us would fit on it as easily." "Mulder... you're not throwing away your couch." Now it was his turn to stare questioningly. "What do you mean? Don't you think we'll have to make some changes in our lives, now that... well, now that we've made some changes in our lives?" His eyes twinkled at his attempt at casual humor. The attempt failed to evoke the expected response from the redhead lying on top of him. "No." Nope, definitely not the expected response. "I'm not going to lie to you, Mulder. I love you. But, I'm scared." She saw his forehead crinkle in confusion. "I have no intention of getting transferred to a California field office. And I'll be damned if I give the consortium any more ammunition against us." Any humor that remained drained away as he realized what she was saying. He let out a resigned sigh. This was a conversation he had been dreading, ever since that first kiss, hell, ever since he'd thought about the possibility of them, together. It wasn't as if he didn't understand her concerns. He did. Only too well, in fact. But he'd hoped that he could forget about them while he was here in Seattle, forget about the real world, where they were Special Agents for the FBI, where they would have to conceal their emotions, their feelings for each other, where the problems took on the forms of shadowy figures who smoked and plotted in dark rooms. Which brought them to where they were. How to handle this indeed? That was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? The fun and games were all fine, here in Seattle, on vacation. Once that was over, however, they would have to go back to their real lives, once again assuming the veneer of distance from each other. And now that they'd finally found one another, that distance was only going to seem that much wider, that much more unbearable. "I don't want to lose you Scully." The simple statement summed up every single one of his feelings so very succinctly. She had voiced his own fears when she'd admitted her concerns. "We'll just have to find a way to hide our relationship, that's all." "Mulder...," she shook her head, "We've been to each other's quite a few times, but I can count on one hand the number of times you've spent the night at my place. And then, you were either sick, hurt or presumed dead. How are we going to explain when someone asks why your car is parked in front of my place, or mine in front of yours, overnight, every night?" "So what would you have us do, Scully? Past a certain point, hiding becomes denial. I refuse to go back to the way things were before. I will not spend the rest of my nights alone on my couch when I could be spending them with you. I'd rather quit the FBI and the X-files." "Don't you think I want the same thing? God, just thinking of one night without you seems like torture. But you know quitting isn't the answer. For either of us. Not now. We both have too much at stake, too much we need to know, too much we need to find out. But we do have to come up with some way to handle this, Mulder. We can't let anyone know. Not Skinner, not the Gunmen, not even our families. It would be too dangerous. Any one of them could let something slip." She lay back down on his chest, turning her head to the side as he brought up his arms to hug her closer to him. "Maybe I could fly over or something. Nick said that he could move pretty fast when he had to. I'm still trying to get used to the idea of it. But, all you'd have to do is keep a window open for me." He brought one hand up to gently stroke her hair, the other still holding her tightly to him. "What? Like Superman?" He could almost feel the small smile as she let herself relax. "Hey, if he could do it... Of course, I'll have to take some flying lessons soon." "Better watch out for pigeons, Mulder." That earned her a slight slap to her hips. "Seriously, though. We'll have to ask the Gunmen to sweep my place regularly. And yours. We've found so many bugs at your apartment and the office, I'm surprised we haven't come across any at mine." He nodded. "We'll call them as soon as we get back." He pursed his lip as if in thought before he continued. "You know, it's probably dangerous to think like this, but I can't help but feel that our newfound immortality gives us a cushion, a safety net of sorts. I mean, it just feels like we're no longer constrained by the FBI, by the consortium's rules. It's almost as if, for the first time, there's more to our lives than just our careers." He saw her raise her head again to look at him. He shrugged. "Who knows, maybe Pierson was right. A hundred years from now, will we even remember the consortium?" "You're right, Mulder. It is dangerous to think like that. One bit of carelessness, and..." She shrugged. "We may not die, but I'd like to maintain our current lives as long as possible. I happen to enjoy the work we do, in spite of the danger." She let out a small laugh. "You know you've ruined me, Fox Mulder. I honestly cannot picture myself in a boring 9 to 5 job anymore. Even my assignment at Quantico seems blase after the X-files." "We might have to get used to them one day," he cautioned her. "Going into hiding is not easy, according to what Duncan said. Especially for us, considering our line of work. We'll have to stage pretty convincing deaths for each of us, and then lie low for some time. You remember how easily we found those irregularities in the histories of those beheading victims a couple of months ago? A determined tracker could have easily found those people. And one thing our enemies don't lack is determination. I guess we'll have to deal with that when it comes up. But, until then..." "Until then, I fully intend to enjoy myself. You're right, Mulder. We'll have to be really careful. But I've waited for you for too long to give you up so easily." The determined look on her face gave way to a smile as she leaned towards him. "We'll make this work." "That we will, Scully," he agreed, catching her lips in his. Yes, they were going to make this work. It would take patience and discretion, but they had each other, and, for the first time, the rest of their lives to look forward to, together. The End Futures Past 04: Crossover by Arvy ----------------------------------------------------------------- End Notes Whoops. Forgot to disclaim the song. I didn't use the whole thing, but it's 'Truly, Madly, Deeply' by Savage Garden. Again, no infringement is intended. When I first heard this song, I thought it would be perfect for this story. And, now that that's out of the way... Notice the reference to Indiscretions (Highlander) in the spoiler section, even though the timeline sets this story long before that. I missed Indiscretions the first time, and when I saw it in reruns, I was floored by what Methos told Joe; something to the effect of "We make a good team, like Scully and Mulder, like... yada, yada, yada." Obviously, this means Methos and Joe have, at some time in the past, actually met the X-files duo. This, like that line from Chinga(XF) about decapitations (see FP2), just goes to show you that I'm still plausibly within the X-files universe as set forth by CC as well the Highlander universe. I have no idea how long I can keep that up though. BTW, I didn't put any spoilers for Forever Knight, cause firstly, I honestly don't remember the episode names anymore, and also since the show's been over for a while now, I figured anyone who knows about it has probably seen all the relevant episodes already. Also, it's been so long since I've actually seen a Forever Knight episode, most of the references here are from memory. I hope I haven't made any mistakes when I crossed them into my story. I do remember LaCroix smoking from sun exposure in some episode, but I think it might be explained by his proximity to Nick, and it was actually Nick who was smoking. There are probably other instances where I've overlooked something. Just keep in mind that anything that wasn't from memory, especially character traits, was probably influenced by some of the wonderful XF/FK crossovers out there. I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you great fanfic authors who've provided me with the inspiration to write this. May the muse smile upon you and enable you to write lots and lots of stuff for me to read ;-) A note about the title. I chose Crossover for a number of reasons. First, obviously, this is a crossover between three shows. Second, Mulder is brought across, again a crossover of sorts. I don't know if becoming an immortal is called a crossing over or not, but anyway that's another one. And last, M & S finally cross that darn line that keeps getting in between them. So, an apt title? About the crossover itself. I think this one is a little unusual, one I don't believe I've seen before. I've read stories with Mulder being immortal, and Mulder being a vampire, but never both. I've also read crossovers that involved a pairing of two immortals (M&S and others), as well as pairings between an immortal and a vampire (HL/FK). Plus, every story I've ever read where an immortal becomes a vampire also, that person has always been someone evil, and is usually killed. I wanted to see what would happen if that fate were to befall a good guy for a change. Sure, it would give Mulder a tremendous advantage. But then the fun's going to be to see what challenges I can throw his way (insert maniacal laughter here >). As for the X-file in the story, I confess. I knew I wanted Mulder brought across, but I had no idea how to go about doing it. At first, I actually had LaCroix be the bad guy who bites Mulder. Then I had Nick somehow kill him, and then teach Mulder. And I might have been able to pull it off with the early LaCroix. But it just didn't quite mesh with the LaCroix I saw in 'Last Knight', which, I stress again, never happened in my universe. And so the X-file was formed. I have no idea how good of an X- file it is. Like I said, this story was a romantic getting together piece first, and a juicy X-file a distant second. I actually wanted to get our heroes in bed, declaring their undying love, sometime near the beginning. Weaving this story somehow kept pushing their confessions farther and farther with each revision, until it finally ended up being a climax of sorts(pun intended;). Oh well. And I swear, I thought of the interrupted kiss scene long before the movie. Can you say premonition? And about that little conversation in the bar between Methos and LaCroix. Just what in heaven's name are they talking about? I'm not exactly sure myself, although I have the workings of a future story in mind. It's just that if that story were ever to be written, this scene would have had been a must, retrospectively speaking. Finally, we come to the end of the notes section. Can you say monster story? This one definitely got away from me. I actually tried to end the story sooner, right after the first kiss scene. But I had so many things I wanted to get off my chest, or rather Mulder and Scully's chests, that I kept extending the story further and further. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a small followup piece or something pretty soon. Wait, didn't I say 'finally' up there. Oh, yeah, just one more thing. I forgot the feedback spiel. Gasp! Can't have that now, can we? So send it, folks. Even just to say you only saw this one line as you were skimming through the story and were somehow compelled to acknowledge how masterfully it was composed. Or to comment on the story itself, yeah, that would be okay too:) BTW, did anyone think the PG was too tame a rating? How about the crossover itself? Did I provide enough information for those who aren't familiar with HL and/or FK? Anyone totally lost? Also any comments, criticisms, critiques, challenges, requests for stories or explanations, etc. are welcome. My address is unmai@bigfoot.com. Until next time... Futures Past Chronology: 01 - The Awakening (Oct 1997) 02 - The Light of Day (Jan 1998) 03 - My Funny Valentine (Feb 1998) 04 - Crossover (Feb 1998)