From: "Joylynn Wing" Date: Mon, 10 Jul 2000 21:02:32 -0400 Subject: New: A Faith Lost (1 of 9) NC17 by Joylynn Wing Source: xff TITLE: A Faith Lost. (1 of 9) AUTHOR: Joylynn Wing EMAIL ADDRESS: aljoyw@a-znet.com ARCHIVE: Please? As always, permission given to Gossamer, Ephemeral, Xemplary and Spookys 2000. All others, permission also granted, just drop me a line so that I may visit. RATING: NC17 for violence, language and graphic sex. This is for adults only please. CLASSIFICATION: XRA KEYWORDS: MSR, MT SPOILER WARNING: Up to Closure of season 7 is fair game. This novel is a post epi that deals with the events that occurred during Closure. SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully are on the hunt for an elusive X-File. However, in the end, they learn that they are searching for a lot more than just a ghost. DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully and anything else you recognize are clearly not mine, they are being used for personal entertainment only and therefore are not infringement. All secondary characters are mine and may not be used without my expressed permission. AUTHOR NOTES: This novel celebrates the second year anniversary of my writing fan fiction. I would like to thank each and every one of you that have taken the time to write to me over the years. You have made me smile more times than you will ever know. My special thanks to Pita and Tracey: my amazing beta team, for your nitpicking. You both keep me honest. 'No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere: I see Heaven's glories shine, And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.' Emily Bronte _________________________________ 'Faith is love taking the form of aspiration' William Ellery Channing ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 2200hrs Jefferson Road, Route 252 Pittsford, NY Jefferson Lowry looked out of the rain-soaked window of his car as he adjusted the volume on his radio. It had been a long day and it was looking to be a longer night. All about him as he sped westbound down Route 252: stark silence, thick and permeating, rolled across the glistening landscape. The only visitors to this silence were the howling of the wind and the occasional flash of lightning. In town on business, he had been in meetings all day and after several hours of discussing Latex gloves he was more than ready for a break. As if *he* hadn't already heard every rubber joke on the market. He could probably write the book on the subject. The two vodka martinis he had earlier to dull the pain were just starting to wear off and he just wanted to get to his room before the bliss of the buzz was gone altogether. However Mother Nature was not being accommodating. The storm had been bad, the high winds knocking out most of the power on the south end of the city. But that had not stopped him from venturing out. His company had chosen the cheapest dive in the city, and of course it was *across* the city from the hotel where they were having the conference. At this rate, unless the National Guard came and rescued him, he would be swept out with the next rain surge. Where was the Ark when you needed it? After finally settling on a soft rock station, he settled back into the now warm, slightly damp leather of his seat. Breathing a sigh of contentment, he put his full attention back onto the dark, windswept road ahead. Right at that moment all that Jefferson wanted was a hot shower and a take-out pizza to drive out the chill that had settled deep into his viscera. A beer would be nice, but he didn't think that he could get that to be delivered, so a can of soda 'touched' with the small bottle of gin, that he always carried with him, would have to do. As he sat there silently, a small smile broke across his heavily stubbled features. At least he could take some small comfort in knowing that even if it took *all* night to get to his low-budget motel, he did have one *hell* of a nice rental car. Jefferson, only the shower club singer, began to hum off tune along with the sultry voice which filled the lonely cabin of his car with companionship. A born again bachelor, Jefferson was in dire need of female companionship. The alcohol just didn't seem to do the trick anymore. It numbed the mind but not the body and soul. At five foot six and two hundred pounds with a shiny bald head, he knew that he wasn't going to be getting any *anytime* soon and his hand was growing tiresome. With that sad realization in mind, he allowed himself to drift off, his pathetic life forgotten even if only for a moment and fantasize with the softly whispered lyrics. ' Dov'e l'amore Dov'e l'amore Where are you now my love? I need you here to hold me...' The rain continued to fall, its primal rhythm as old as the ages. It conjoined with the music and became as one with the melody, the duet's strains now without a beginning...or an end. 'Come to me baby Don't keep me waiting Another night without you here And I'll go crazy...' He tapped his pudgy fingers on the cool, slick plastic of the steering wheel. As he did so, his mind was thousands of miles away. Visions of beautiful women dancing seductively, just for him, flitted through his thoughts. As he drove along in this haze of hormones and loneliness, he just barely caught out of the corner of his eye a diminutive figure, with billowing skirts clad in white, standing on the edge of the road. A crack of lighting filled the ravaged nightscape with momentary light, and a flash of dark fire just ahead further peaked his wandering attentions. Turning the radio down, Jefferson pulled the rental off to the side, the spinning tires sending splashes of water up onto the passenger side door. For some reason he felt compelled to stop. He felt as if he had been waiting for her to show up all of this time. He wasn't in the habit of picking up hitchhikers but his good judgement stepped aside for something more instinctual and subconscious. As he turned to look out the window across from him, another flash of light revealed bright blue eyes framed by wavy strands of dark, rain soaked auburn peering back at him. Opening the door to let her in, Jefferson was buffeted with the gale force winds. His wrinkled, slightly cigarette smoke touched suit instantly became soaked with its insistent presence. The misty figure, with her sweet features barely noticeable in the faint light of the dashboard, slid into the seat as the door softly closed behind her. She looked about hesitantly, studying the cabin with a cautious eye. "What's a nice girl like you doing out on a night like this?" Jefferson smiled and quickly maneuvered the vehicle out onto the street. He was intrigued by this wisp of a woman. He hadn't seen a soul since getting off of East Avenue whom had been brave enough to weather the tempest. "Walking home," is all that she said as she kept her face forward towards the windshield. Jefferson smiled once again and turned back to the road. He wasn't sure where she was going, but he had no problem going anywhere with her. As he took a deep breath, the smell of fresh roses filled his thoughts. Stealing a glance at his mysterious stranger, he felt the stirrings of another sort of storm due south of his waistband. However *this* was the kind of a storm that didn't blow over easily. The passenger was so beautiful, her face a lonely man's Holy Grail. Her body was a lush paradise, its lines and curves barely hid by her dress since the rain had rendered it practically transparent. He wanted to take her home with him, making her body his even if only for the night. It had been so long and she was so beautiful, so mysterious. Just like the savage storm that raged before them. He longed to feel her silken thighs wrapped around him as he surged within her tight, wet paradise- he desired to feel her sighs fill the silence that only his heart knew. As he tried to will away these basal urges, the lyrics on the station whispered seductively what he only wished he could say. 'Whispered so sweetly Feel my heart beating I need to hold you in my arms I want you near me...' Then suddenly just as he found himself about to kiss the phantasm of a woman in his musings, a honey-laden voice interrupted him. "The decisions which you have made until now have brought you to this point, but it isn't too late. It is never too late. Your faith isn't lost. You've just misplaced it. There are many roads still to travel." Not sure if the woman next to him was crazy or really addressing him; Jefferson continued to daydream as he half pretended to listen, spurred by the intense throbbing in his groin. It was just *his* luck that he picked up a beautiful loony bin reject. However, he wasn't going to let her ruin a perfectly good reverie. She didn't *need* to talk to make him happy. "You have the power to make this right if you can make some very hard decisions. You *can* have everything that you want but hard decisions take courage. The question is do you have that courage?" Her words, now icy and halting caught his attention and he looked over at her, the lights of an oncoming car filling the cabin with a false sense of warmth. In fact in spite of the heater being on, the air in the car seemed to be as cold as a winter's storm. "What did you say? What are you talking about?" Jefferson's voice trembled just as much as his hands. This situation was starting to get uncomfortable for him. Who was this woman and where did she get off telling him about his life? Oh God, what if she really was a crazy woman bent on killing him right then and there? Sure, she was small and he could normally take her but driving on these slick roads he was at a disadvantage. He didn't like it one little bit. Glancing back to the road, he noticed that the traffic was beginning to increase, and he could see some buildings in the distance. That alone for now made him feel more secure. For the moment. And as the next roll of thunder overtook them, she began to speak, sharing her non-judgmental words. He listened intently to her frank honesty. But this time, Jefferson was not scared. In fact he sensed no malevolence from her and he felt an innate trust building within him. Her words moved him, made him think. They even inspired him to act. He had never been spoken to in such away before, including by his ex-wife Delores. When she finally stopped speaking, Jefferson found himself with tears in his eyes and questions in his heart. Suddenly in his need to connect with the woman next to him, he found himself reaching over to grasp her pale hand in his. As he touched her, he instantly recoiled in horror. Lifting his hand up in front of him, as if to study it, his desperate eyes were filled with fear. When he had touched her, he had felt the touch of the 'other' side. Cold, stiff death. "What in hell are you?" he cried, as he turned to look at her. His eyes grew wide, his heart nearly stopped beating in his tight chest but as he glanced about he realized that she was gone. Vanished. "OhmyGodOhmyGod..." he chanted as he looked back at the road. He knew that *what* had been there hadn't been alive. It couldn't have been. There wasn't any sign that she had been there except that he was still quite wet from the rain that had come in when he had opened the door. As his only tangible proof, his suit clung to him like a bad memory and trickles of water were still making paths down the back of his neck. He blinked in utter disbelief and suddenly a flash of light filled his vision. He became momentarily disoriented and he found himself trying to swerve to avoid it. But his speed was too great and the road was too slick. It was fate. The squeal of tires and the crunch of metal competed with the percussion of the falling rain. Jefferson felt a piercing agonizing pain shoot through his head, its burning touch making his whole body grow numb. As his eyes fell closed, there was nothing except for the overwhelming smell of roses. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 0229am Scully's apartment Georgetown Dappled moonlight streamed brightly through the wind- caressed curtains, its promise of comfort filling every dark corner of room. Within those four walls the soft sounds of lovemaking floated freely, a musical symphony as old as time. Sighs, moans and the slapping of wet flesh against one another mingled with the scent of arousal wafted about on the eddies of cool night air. These swirling ancient elements bathed the room in an irresistible heady rush, a sumptuous repast for one's senses. In this haze, two shadowy figures moved against one another in eternal love and desire, seeking their release: bodies entwined, sweat covered skin pressed and moving against sweat covered skin, the physical consummation of their long-lived love affair. This love, once confined to the darkness, now immersed in the light. Like waves crashing against an immovable shore, they collided, their combined passions spinning them higher and higher: the pull of the heavens bringing them to their ultimate destiny, completion with the universal oneness. It had been a long journey, a journey fraught with trouble and heartache. Even now, as she was pressed into the mattress with the solid proof buried deeply within her, her mind still couldn't seem to accept that this was real. It was just too good to be real. However, her heart wanted to believe. As the curtains billowed once again, the bright moonlight fell upon the two lovers and Dana Scully, stirred by its presence, looked up from behind heavy-hooded lids. When her shaky gaze finally caught his, she was dumbfounded at what her own desire filled heart beheld. The vision before her was awe-inspiring and she found herself drowning helplessly in the moment, like a wave crashing against the shore, her soul knowing a freedom unlike which it had never known. Swirling hazel eyes dark with passion spoke of unconditional love and acceptance, a timeless gift from the limitless totality. These fathomless depths spoke of the stuff that dreams were made of. They and he were a vision born of God and of dreams and to one Dana Katherine Scully, the vision was of true love; a song as old as the universe. From the deepest recesses of her memories it spoke to her, that same immortal bond which she knew existed between her parents. She knew it to conquer any adversity, its light filling all of the darkness in men's souls. It would erase the pain and soothe their souls, reminding them of all the possibilities that the universe had to offer. She had seen that power limitless times during their father's constant absences and their frequent relocations. These issues would strain their love and patience, threatening to tear their very family apart. However, this bond would see them through the bad times and it would illuminate the good times. It would bind them together tighter than any mere mortal fetters could, challenging any threat to their home. Such a profound connection was this that she herself began to hope that someday she would meet someone that would help to inspire that in her own life. So, as she had made a life for herself, she had searched for that type of love in her relationships, but she had never succeeded. Her attraction to older men in positions of power had seen to that. Instead of treating her as an equal and respecting her wishes, they used and controlled her. She had been burned more than once and she had came to accept, over the years of heartache and frustration, that maybe kind of love just wasn't meant to be. Until... Her best friend. Her partner. Her touchstone. Her soul mate. Now, it wasn't as if she wasn't a fulfilled, happy person on her own, but he did make it much more interesting. It was the difference of seeing the world around her in black and white or in technicolor. Scully continued to gaze up at her soul mate; their physical union drawing her further into the moment. Her lover's eyes were closed and his mouth was open, revealing his white teeth as he took deep, struggling breaths. As she studied his dark features carefully, she realized that if she could paint, she would immortalize this moment in oils. On the canvas would be every shade of red, touched with oranges and violets...the colors that she envisioned passion would be. A passion which would burn brighter than the sun and would light up the furthest recesses of the cosmos. Scully's breath hitched as she let out another moan, her lover drawing slowly out of her until he was nearly gone. She desperately clawed at him, trying to fill the void that he left. Moaning loudly, she reached up with her hands and grasped the rungs of her head board as she brought herself up to meet him, burying him further within her body and soul. Burying him so far that he could never leave. How had she lived so long without this? Without him? She wished that she could live in this moment forever; immortalized in that same painting she would create. It would hang on the wall of a museum as a testament to unconditional love, which they shared. Then, from within the very depths of her being, the intense spiraling pleasure increased and her lungs began to burn with each and every breath that she would take. She closed her eyes in concentration. She didn't want to miss a single minute. They were so close and as they moved with one another, their movements became erratic and desperate. Scully found herself slipping between consciousness' and she began to lose herself. She could feel her soul slipping from its mortal bonds flying out to meet the wonders of the totality and she stifled a scream that threatened to fall from passion swollen lips. She pressed her face into the sweat covered hollow of his neck as she brought her hands back down and dug her fingernails into his sweat slick back. As she marked him as hers for the rest of their corporeal lives, she heard him groan loudly and she trembled in primitive response. She had always known that it would be like this with him, that he would inspire such burning passions within her. Passions that would tear down all of the walls and would free her heart. To be as open and vulnerable as the day she was born and to not be afraid to show it. That was the way with true love. Pulling out again, her lover thrust downward with a little more force and twisted his hips slightly against her. As he did this he caught her g-spot and then the edge of her womb and sharp twinge of pain coupled with her indescribable wave of pleasure. The burning discomfort lingered on the fine line between that existed between pleasure and pain and all that it did was to make her lift her hips up once again to meet his, not wanting the feeling to ever end. Within moments their pace was out of control and Scully slid her hand down between them, gently stroking his tight testicles drenched with their essence. She was so close, the precipice right there before her and she was determined for them to finish together. It would be more than fitting. To her, this was more than sex, more than even making love. This was about the only truth that mattered: their truth. Suddenly her partner drew in a deep breath and shuddered. As his wet heat filled her, it sent Scully's orgasm washing over her in all powerful, unyielding undulations. As she was dragged out into infinity: from the depths of her soul, the night air filled with a scream. The low sultry tones signaling her ultimate release... "Mulder!" Scully screamed as she sat up deliriously in the freshly washed sheets of her bed. Street lamps streamed brightly through the windows of her well-appointed bedroom, illuminating the semi-opaque silhouettes that surrounded her. Heaving breaths wracked her slight body as arousal surged through every inch of her body. In spite of the cool night air that poured through the open window, sweat glistened across the furrowed expanse of her brow. Her normally pale skin now flushed bright pink. Taking a deep breath and reaching up with a trembling hand, Scully tucked a silken stray strand of fire behind her ear. A bright smile broke across her face, her still vivid memories playing out before her in her vivid imagination. 'Jesus, Mulder. If you are even half as good in real life as you are in my dreams, I may never walk again.' Scully lifted up the sweet smelling sheets, the delicate scent wafting up and filling the room with its soft fragrance. Beneath those soft sheets, her satin nightclothes clung like a misty cloud to her body; her skin was drenched in perspiration. The shrill ring of a cell phone broke the enveloping silence, startling Scully from her reverie. Reaching over on her bedside stand table, Scully grabbed her cell and answered breathlessly, "Scully." Her heart thrummed loudly in her chest and she could barely focus on what she had said. "Do you know what time it is? Why are you still awake?" A low, sexy voice responded, humor dripping from every syllable. "Mulder..." Scully slid down weakly onto her mattress once again, flipping over to lie on her stomach. Just hearing the soft tones of his voice stirred her quickly cooling arousal and she found herself blushing once again at the memories of them together. "Are you alright, Scully? You sound a little strange..." Mulder had stressed strange and his soft inflection had dropped off into a sigh. Scully's mouth curled up on the edges and she chuckled softly. "I'm fine. I had a dream, that's all." Ok that *might* have been a *slight* understatement. Dream, didn't quite cut it. How about the best sex of her life while she had been sound asleep? "Would you like me to come over and kiss it all better?" Mulder replied teasingly, his voice all honey and molasses. It was as if he knew that he could charm the habit off a nun and made no qualms in using it. "In your dreams, Mulder." Scully closed her eyes, pushing the hair out of her face. 'More like in my dreams,' "So why did you call me at..." Scully glanced over at her clock, "2:30 in the morning?" "Ahhh, now comes the good part. I have two tickets waiting for us at Dulles...it seems we have been requested to assist the local police in Rochester, NY. The plane leaves in 2 hours. You won't be sorry." Mulder's voice filled her body with more arousal and she trembled with need. How could she turn him down when she had already traveled for him to the ends of the earth? "I'd better not be...or else...." Scully warned as she smiled softly. "Let's get it on...." Mulder replied tantalizingly and then the phone went dead. Scully closed her eyes and let her face fall into the comforter. She knew that this case was going to be a long one. Every one had been since they had shared their first kiss on New Year's Eve. They both knew that the game that they had been both playing for seven years was coming to an end. And when it did, God help the others caught up in the storm. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A Faith Lost by Joylynn Wing aljoyw@a-znet.com Part 2 of 9 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 0830hrs Flight 201: somewhere between Dulles and Rochester International Airport. Fox Mulder sat stiffly in the too small airline seat, reading the folder that he held in his hands. Between the poor lighting, the heavy pressurization and the intense heat of the cabin, he found himself getting one hell of a headache. Putting the file down in his lap, Mulder took off his glasses and rubbed his hand across his brow. Perspiration, from the malfunctioning air conditioning, slicked cool and oily on his palm. They had been delayed several hours at the airport in DC due to mechanical difficulties, so when the air had started to malfunction, they weren't surprised. "You didn't sleep at all tonight, did you?" Scully reached over and squeezed the suit-clad expanse of his forearm, concern dripping from her soft tones. "How did you guess? I thought the clean suit and the fresh shave would throw everyone off." Mulder leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Mulder knew that he looked like shit. It didn't take the dark circles and faint lines that he had seen in the mirror earlier this morning to tell him as much. He had to admit that the death of his mother and the truth about his sister had taken a great deal out of him. After they had finished up the case, Mulder had disappeared for a while. That time had helped him and he seemed more focused...even reborn. But the body took longer to heal than the spirit and his face reflected that. He was tired...but it wasn't a bad kind of tired. It was the feeling of fulfillment that one would feel after reaching the end of a long journey. After searching for all of those years, not knowing if she was alive and safe or whatever...to know that she wasn't suffering was the best feeling he could have ever hoped for. Of course, he mourned for the horrible life that she had lead after she had been taken from him, but now she was in a better place...a place where he knew that there had to be something bigger than just *this* working. Until now, he had never really believed in a God...but now his belief helped him to understand. The albatross had been removed from his neck and he was truly free. "Don't you know that I've taken up working on the Psychic's Network, Mulder?" Scully replied teasingly. It was obvious to him that what he had said had made her feel less concerned, since she had dropped the subject so quickly. Mulder watched as Scully reached forward and grabbed the magazine in the rack before her. Using the periodical as a fan, she flipped it gently in front of her, as she closed her eyes, her lips pursed and wet. Only Scully could make a simple act of fanning one's self look like a scene from one of his porno movies. "Don't tease me, Scully. You know how I get when the aroma of a paranormal bouquet is about-" Mulder leaned sideways, opened his eyes and waggled his brows as he smiled brightly. Jesus, did he lust for this woman! Beads of sweat fell down the snowy white lines of her neck, each and every one tracing a path which all seemed to collect in the deep v of her white shirt. As of late, she had taken to wearing her shirts unbuttoned as far as they would go without her falling out completely. But now with the stifling heat, it was even lower. The white curves of her breasts shimmered with the fine spray of moisture. That same moisture nearly soaked the thin cotton of the blouse and that coupled with the cool air that she was generating from fanning herself, made her tight nipples stand out in relief. It took everything Mulder had to keep his eyes above her neckline. Of course his lust for her was only matched by his love and devotion. His love for her transcended time, encompassing the past present and future; just like the stars above. Scully grinned and chuckled softly as she replied to his statement, "spooky?" Mulder watched as she shifted about in the tight quarters, trying to get more comfortable. "You know what I like..." Mulder leered as he tried unsuccessfully to arrange his legs, not from the lack of space but from the awareness that some part of his lower anatomy was feeling. He knew that she was deliberately baiting him and although he had promised himself that he would stop lusting after Scully, his good intentions had fallen off the wagon. A strange sense of sadness overcame him and he quickly pushed it away as he glanced back down at the file. 'This is just what I need to get my mind off my decision and off Scully. This is not a time for mourning what will never be, now is the time to celebrate what I do have. What we do have.' Mulder took a deep breath and allowed the sexual tension that he felt to subside. His time away had been a time of healing but it had been more...much more. It had been a time for making decisions; painful decisions that had to be made and the subject had been one Dana Katherine Scully. Scully leaned over towards Mulder and pointed down at the well-worn file which lay there. "You promised me you would tell me about this supposedly great case," Scully said straight-faced, the slight quiver in her voice the only thing belying her excitement. "You wound me," Mulder mused with mock indignation as he thumped his chest in response. "Like *I* would bring you anything else?" Mulder knew that no matter how much she tried to appear disinterested in their cases, she found them just as exciting as he did. That was why both of them were still there. Mulder handed the file to Scully; his hand brushing hers gently and he noted the slight shiver that possessed her momentarily. He didn't want to go there...he couldn't go there. The implications were just too great for both of them. "It seems," Mulder continued. "That an out of town business man had a very bad automobile accident while driving to his motel a couple of nights ago. He and another driver hit head on during a very bad storm. When he was interviewed about the accident, he claimed that he might have been distracted by a hitchhiker that he had picked up earlier..." "Might have been distracted how?" Scully arched a brow as she unsuccessfully tried to stifle a smile. "She was there one minute...gone the next." Mulder said as he gestured with his hand in the air. Then he leaned over and whispered softly into her ear in his most spookiest voice. "She had vanished into thin air." He could hardly contain himself. This was too good to be true. Just the thing to get the juices flowing once again. "Ok...and this is why we are traveling to Rochester, NY?" Scully continued to try to contain her grin, but the corners of her lips betrayed her as she continued to fan herself like a mad woman, her eyes dilated and dark. "Yup..." Mulder nodded for emphasis and leaned back once again. It was getting hot in there...too hot. He could tell that this wasn't going to be easy. Logically he knew that it was the right thing but then he was never known for his leaps of logic. He needed to let her go, he owed her that much. "Oh Brother..." Scully rolled her eyes and huffed in obvious false revulsion.... *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 1245hrs Strong Memorial Hospital Rochester, NY "So let me get this straight Mr. Lowry," Scully muttered as she leaned onto the foot-board, her knuckles white with tension. "What you are *trying* to tell me is that this ghostly hitchhiker caused you to swerve into oncoming traffic?" She dropped her chin down to her chest and closed her eyes momentarily. Now this was too much! Scully was more open minded than she had ever been, but she wasn't stupid. This story had more holes than a screen door and she would need much more evidence than this man's account. "Yes...no....I don't know." Jefferson looked up at the two well-dressed agents and tapped his free hand nervously on the bed rail. He wrinkled his nose and let out a snort as he glanced about his small, starkly appointed room. "All I know is that she was there one moment...gone the next. All that was left was the smell of roses that surrounded her. She didn't do anything to harm me...in fact she was trying to help me." He slowly closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, as if his energy were expended. "She was trying to help you?" Scully saw Mulder lean forward as a smug bright smile broke across his strong features. Scully knew how much Mulder was enjoying this. After weeks of desk duty, this was exactly what he needed to get him back and focused once again. She wasn't going to rip the carpet out from under him just yet. Jefferson nodded as he smiled, his eyes darting about furiously behind closed lids. "A new beginning," Scully heard him repeat as he sighed. "That was what she shared with me. She said that all I needed was the courage to let it happen and she was right...things have changed." Suddenly he opened his eyes and Scully could see the tears shining presumably from the blinding bright light of the sun in them. Those same tears began to fall from his eyes, mingling with the stubble and the dried blood, which streaked his bruised face. "I had lost everything, my life was a pathetic mess. I was alone, in a shitty job and had lost any hope of finding my way out. The only thing that mattered was getting to my next bottle of liquor. But now...my ex- wife...she wants me to come and stay with her when I get out of here. She wants *us* to have a second chance. My boss...he offered me a promotion; one that doesn't involve traveling and I will make a helluva lot more money. And to top it all off, while they were treating me, they found a very rare heart condition which would have killed me if it had not been treated properly." Scully glanced over at Mulder and stepped back from the foot of the bed. This *was* too much. She wasn't the soap opera type. She had been more than patient and now was the time for some hard core evidence on the matter before they got too involved with the theatrics. It wasn't that she didn't want to believe -for she honestly did- however she just needed to rule out the irrational from the rational. "Mulder, may we have a moment?" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "So what do you think?" Mulder asked tightly as he narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could tell that Scully was uncomfortable and it wasn't just over the aspects of the case. Ever since arriving at Strong Memorial Hospital, she had seemed queasy and uneasy. He knew that hospitals were her least favorite place. Whenever they had been in one for the longest time, he knew that it had brought back bad memories, which seemed to haunt her. Her abduction... Her sister's death... Her cancer... Emily... He knew that all of these images, just as clear as the day they had happened...would slowly tear at her well-shored walls of denial and avoidance until she couldn't take it anymore. He knew that she had just met her tolerance level. "Mulder, don't get your hopes up too much." Scully leaned against the painted cinder block wall as she put one hand on her hip and the other against wall as support. "Scully..." Mulder warned as he narrowed his sweet hazel eyes and shook his head in frustration in spite of his understanding. He then shoved his hands into his pockets. Mulder had always considered himself a good judge of character with few exceptions and he knew that Jefferson was telling the truth as much as he understood it. He trusted Scully's judgement implicitly, why couldn't she do the same for him? "There is no scientific evidence to substantiate the existence of ghosts, Mulder." Scully replied as she impatiently tapped her heel on the floor. "So bearing that in mind, wouldn't it be possible that there could be a perfectly rational explanation for his claims?" "And what would that be?" Mulder questioned sarcastically as he squeezed his fists in his pockets in anger. He knew that he should cut her some slack but he couldn't seem to find the energy to do so. Why did she have to discount his theories so easily? Even after all she had seen? Scully reached out and placed her small hand on his shoulder and Mulder could feel the trust and caring exuding from her. "Let's say for sake of the argument that he did pick someone else, but it wasn't a ghost; maybe it was a real live person that he wouldn't want to be associated with for whatever reason. Maybe something happened between them and that precipitated the accident." "There was no one else in the car, Scully." Mulder smiled softly and relaxed slightly. Most of the hostility that he had felt earlier had slipped away with the simple comforting touch of her hand. In its wake was left the clarity of her role in their relationship. As much as he wanted her to believe, he knew that *this* was how they worked. They were Yin and Yang; night and day...the balance of all things...each existing in harmony with the other. When the balance was upset, they worked poorly, but when it was maintained...they were unbeatable. Mulder saw Scully smile and nod in reply. "Maybe whomever it was walked away. That *could* be possible if drugs or alcohol were involved. According to the police report, it was a dark and stormy night and because they had declared it a no fault, due to the eyewitness accounts, they didn't secure the scene further..." "And that's why there isn't any forensics evidence to prove either way...." Mulder finished as he brought his hands out of his pockets and placed them on his hips as well. Although Scully would pursue her avenues, he knew that in the end he would be right. Every cell of his being told him as much. "But why would a normal man make up a story so seemingly far fetched as this? Couldn't he think of something simpler and believable?" "I never said he was normal, Mulder." Mulder heard Scully chuckle softly as she leaned back from the wall and turned to walk away. "And he wouldn't have to work too hard to make this one up. His story sounds just like a poorly crafted version of Resurrection Mary, with a twist. It is a very popular urban legend...in fact many versions of it exist. Some use a woman; others use a small child. However all have the same elements...a ghostly hitchhiker, a lonely road and a cemetery." "Did you know," Mulder asked with an arched brow and a twinkle in his eye. "That according to the Northwest Indiana Society of Ghost Research, the girl's name was actually Elizabeth Wilson and the cemetery she's buried in is actually called Ross Cemetery? And did you also know that in 1977, a woman claimed to have seen Mary locked inside the iron fence of the cemetery. The next morning the metal bars seemed to have the imprints of her hands and those pieces had to be replaced?" Scully just shrugged in reply. Mulder then leaned forward and smiled brightly. "Now, from what I remember of the Urban Legend, the story began on a cold winter night in 1934 when a young girl was killed in an auto accident while on her way home from the O. Henry Ballroom on Archer Avenue in Justice, Illinois. Five years later, in 1939, a cab driver picked up a young girl in a white gown on Archer Avenue. She sat in the front seat and instructed him to drive north on Archer. After driving a short distance, she suddenly told him to stop...and simply vanished from the cab. The cab had stopped in front of Resurrection Cemetery, where the girl was thought to be buried." Scully smiled and lowered her head slightly and he swore that she blushed softly as he heard her say, "now as I was saying, maybe he was also under the influence of drugs and or alcohol. There were no tests done at admission but...since he *did* have surgery...and *did* spike a temperature afterwards according to his records...I bet there are some blood samples still on ice which could still be tested." Scully then walked away, the clicking of her heels filling the empty corridor. "Go for it, Scully." Mulder offered as he stepped in front of the door, his curiosity once again peaked. The thrill of the hunt was once again afoot and he for one was more than ready. Jefferson was the key...and Mulder planned to get to the truth whatever it took. "I'll stay and ask Mr. Lowry a few more questions." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "What did your passenger look like?" Mulder leaned back against the straight-backed chair and dropped his hands in his lap. Folding his fingers within one another, he looked straight into Jefferson's eyes, trying to convey his sincere interest. With Scully being out of the room, Mr. Lowry seemed more at ease and Mulder planned to take full advantage of it. "She was beautiful." Jefferson's eyes slid shut and a bright smile danced playfully across his face. "Bright red hair, pale skin, with the most amazing blue eyes." Brown eyes met the bright light once again and his smile grew wider. "Very similar to your partner, Agent Scully." "Really?" Mulder replied as his eyes lit up; just the mention of Scully's name invoking erotic images in his head. A bright smile then crept across his face and he tried to suppress it albeit quite unsuccessfully. So that was why Jefferson had seemed slightly distracted. Scully often had that effect on him also so he could sympathize. 'Ahhh, I have hit a nerve...' Mulder heard Jefferson chuckled softly, as he waggled his index finger in mock teasing way. "You really have it bad don't you?" Mulder shook his head in vehement denial. He sat up as straight as a rod, his discomfort written on every feature of his face. This was one topic that was not up for discussion. Of course, it wasn't the first time that he had been put on the spot, but considering the decision he had made, it was too vulnerable of a time. "I don't know what you mean...now if we can get back to what we were discussing...." As Mr. Lowry had confronted Mulder about his feelings for Scully, the door had opened across the room without the two men knowing since the curtain had been pulled. Scully, having accomplished her goal, had returned to report her findings to her partner. However after having caught what was being spoken, Scully had let the door shut most of the way and held her breath in anticipation. She knew that she shouldn't do this, since she surely wouldn't appreciate it if Mulder had ever eavesdropped on her, but the opportunity to finally hear how Mulder truly felt was too good to pass up. Of course, she had been somewhat put off by Mulder's initial reaction, but that was how they always dealt with it in the past so it wasn't a big deal. Unaware of the audience hiding behind the door, Jefferson continued on the same line of discussion. "And she has it bad for you. You guys together?" "We aren't like that." Mulder crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn't need to discuss this topic, and his feelings, with a total stranger. Especially since he still truly didn't understand them himself. All it served to do was to remind him of the one thing he couldn't ever have, an intimate and loving relationship with the one he loved. "But you two love one another..." Jefferson insisted as he tried to sit up further in his bed, but the heavy cast on his leg obviously prevented him from doing so. Mulder dropped his head to his chest, those simple words spoken out loud to be finally be given life in this sterile hospital room was much too much to deny. To hear it was a forbidden song which he could never appreciate and he found himself suddenly saddened by the thought. "Sometimes love isn't enough." Mulder then looked up at the ceiling and sighed as he continued. "Our work...puts us at risk. And I am not the most reliable of partners...I tend to get self-absorbed. I couldn't risk losing her...my stupid mistakes have already almost cost her *her* life in the past too many times for me to count. We could never be together, no matter what we might feel for one another. I could never allow it; we are partners with a job to do and most importantly we are friends and that I can never jeopardize. Besides, she deserves more than I could ever give her." Scully closed the door and dropped her forehead to the frame, numbness flooding every cell of her being. Her limbs felt heavy, a deep chill having invaded them; thoughts which once flowed with the vigor of youth now stood still with the sudden truth which it never expected. As she stood there, she could still hear the words being spoken by Mr. Lowry yet she knew that Mulder would never heed them. The one thing that she knew was that when Mulder made up his mind about something, there was no room for negotiation. She would have better luck convincing a lawyer. Still unaware of the audience, Jefferson rolled his eyes. "Please spare me the bullshit, Agent Mulder. If you ask me, you are one lucky man to have such a woman in your life. I made nearly the same mistake as you are doing. I nearly drove away the woman that I love because of purely selfish reasons; because of fear and poor self esteem. However I have been given a second chance. You might not be." Scully stepped back from the wall and took a desperate breath in spite of the burning pressure in her throat. Steeling her back, she tucked her hair behind her ear. Now was not the time to deal with this and to be honest she knew that there probably wasn't ever going to be a good one. They did have a job to do and Mulder was right about that much. No matter what happened between them, the work had to come first. Scully pushed the door open and stepped inside, interrupting the conversation firmly, surprising herself with her strength. "Mulder, we need to go." Mulder scrambled to his feet, obviously eager to get away. "Thank you Mr. Lowry, if we have any further questions we will contact you." "Remember what I said. You may not have a second chance." Jefferson shouted as Mulder literally rushed past Scully, leaving her to follow behind. As the door closed silently, Jefferson Lowry closed his eyes and a single tear slid down his cheek and caught on the cleft of his chin. As he sat there quietly, musing in his own world, he counted his blessings one by one. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A Faith Lost by Joylynn Wing aljoyw@a-znet.com Part 3 of 9 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 1600hrs Village of Pittsford Police Station. Pittsford, NY "Agent Mulder...Agent Scully...here is the information that you requested." Officer Mack Byrne held out a large yellow envelope and dropped it down on the front of the desk in front of the two agents seated just in front of his desk. Leaning back in his chair, he brought his well-weathered hands up behind his head. From all about them, the soft noises of a partially empty office droned forth: the soft tapping of typewriters, hushed voices and rustling of paper. Bright sunshine poured through spotless windows revealing gunmetal gray desks neatly piled with the reports of the day. Mulder leaned forward and grabbed the file, bringing it back to lie across his lap at an angle so that the woman seated next to him could see it. Turning his head to catch her face, Mulder found that she still seemed to be avoiding his gaze. She sat there just as stoically as she had on the way from the hospital. She had only spoken to him long enough to share that Jefferson Lowry had indeed ingested a sizable amount of alcohol just before the accident. Mulder glanced back down at the file, his earlier frustration growing. 'What the hell is eating her?' Mulder couldn't remember doing anything to set her off yet she was clearly upset. Not only was she giving him the silent treatment, but she seemed pale and it set off fine worry lines around her eyes. Turning his attention back to the man seated at the desk across from him, Mulder promised himself that he would question Scully at the next available moment that they had alone. Mulder looked back over at Officer Byrne as he heard him quickly summarize his voice slightly tremulous from nervousness. "Now that area of the city is pretty quiet; it is on the outskirts and one of the more affluent parts of the city. I couldn't imagine whom he could have picked up out there. If he did pick someone up, maybe it was closer to where his convention was." "However," he continued. "We do have some reports of some teenagers hanging out in groups with suspected drug use and low level dealing. We even have heard rumors of young women 'lending themselves out' in order to get drugs. These are primarily high school drop outs that live in the area with nothing else better to do but cause trouble." Reaching forward Officer Byrne picked up his mug of coffee and took a tentative sip, the steam curling around the tip of his ample nose. "We have tried to corner the group on several occasions but they have been more clever then than we had anticipated." Mulder leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly as his heart skipped a beat. Officer Byrne's words struck closer to home than he could have ever imagined. Maybe she had been right. Lowry could have picked someone up, either for drugs or money or both. He was a single businessman in a strange city. He could have been looking for action and instead had gotten more than he had bargained for. He knew that Lowry's injuries had been a result of his seatbelt not being fastened. But what if his friend had been smart enough to buckle-up? The person could have survived the accident and walked away, totally unscathed. Mulder turned his head and glanced over at Scully and what he saw there gave him more cause for concern. Scully was staring directly at the officer, her face as deadpan and disinterested as he had ever seen it. The Scully that he knew would be interacting more with the discussion; especially given the fact her theory might have more weight. For her to not give a case her full participation was totally out of character and Mulder didn't know what to make of it. He had gotten her up early and the flight had been horrendous. Maybe she wasn't feeling very well. This would explain the sudden change in her behavior earlier. Mulder leaned over and nudged Scully with his elbow, rousing her to look over at him, her eyes steeled and narrowed. "Are you feeling ok?" Mulder asked as he then reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine, Mulder." Scully shrugged his touch off as if it were fire as she steeled her shoulders and planted both feet firmly on the floor below. Dropping his mug to the desk, Byrne sighed, bringing a bewildered Mulder's attention back on task. "So, as I was saying, they remain out there selling and using dope and there isn't much that we can do about it. We have tried many sting operations but they have always been one step ahead of us." "The residents of the area are rightfully angry...they pay their tax dollars and they still have to put up with such crap. Now given the information that Mr. Lowry *was* driving under the influence, we could take the initiative and assume that his story is suspect. Maybe he did stop and pick someone up, and now he is lying to cover it up however..." His voice trailed off as he looked about to make sure that no one was listening. Mulder looked over at Scully once again, but this time there seemed to be some life stirring in the seat next to him. A raised brow and a slight tilt of her head accompanied the officer's words. "Now, I never told you this...and I will deny it if ever confronted, but this isn't the first time that a report like this has come across my desk. They have all been swept under the rug, so I was surprised to hear that they even called you...considering that they have repeatedly denied any knowledge of it." Byrne brought his hands to rest on the smooth surface of the desk as he leaned forward and lowered his voice slightly. "Over the past 25 years, there have been reports of unusual happenings on that road. Many of the people involved are considered to be upstanding members of the community... above reproach. If you are interested in speaking to any of them, they are listed in this file. However, I would recommend that you go with the first name though. I have known him for years...he knows everything and boy...does he have a story to tell...." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 1715hrs Jefferson Road, Route 252 Pittsford, NY Thick cigar smoke filled the air, mixing with the stale smell of sweat and Scully found herself wishing that she were anywhere else but in the back of that cab. They had taken the first name on the list alright and now she was speeding down 252 towards the very place where Jefferson Lowry had picked up his mysterious guest. This wasn't just a job; it was an adventure. Glancing about Scully noted several religious icons scattered about on the ancient dashboard. But the one that caught her attention the most was the black and gold Rosary that hung off of the rear-view mirror. For some reason it stuck in her mind: the sunlight reflecting off of the metal, the black well-worn beads telling a tale no one would ever hear. She found herself mesmerized by it, as if it held some deep meaning for her. But for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. Shrugging, Scully leaned back and resigned herself to the knowledge that for the moment the meaning was lost to her and that since she was stuck there she should try to make the best of it. Such as it was. Looking about the cab strewn with dusty cigar ashes, Scully pursed her rose petal lips in disgust. She sure hoped that Mikos Gallipo wasn't one of Rochester's most upstanding citizens that the officer mentioned, for if he was she would hate to meet one of their less than upstanding. He seemed nice enough -although not the most hygienically gifted- but she wouldn't go as far as to put him on the top of the list. Ever since they had gotten in the cab with him, he had not said more than ten words to them. The words that he had spoken had been expletives and had been directed to a discussion he had been having on his cell-phone with his boss, which she noticed just happened to be a woman. Mikos had also cut off several other cars and had offered a not so friendly gesture to a fellow cabbie. In short, it had not been the most pleasant of rides. From the small radio set deeply into the dashboard, familiar words from an oldies station flowed into the most uncomfortable silence. '...The first time ever I saw your face...' 'Just wonderful,' she thought. 'What did I ever do to deserve this?' Out of the corner of her red and irritated eyes she could see Mulder literally hopping about with the exuberance of a five-year-old on the fake leather seat next to her. 'Lord, just take me now...'her desperate mind mused. She closed her eyes and dropped her weary chin down to her chest. Try as she did, she couldn't seem to get it together. Not only was she exhausted, mentally and physically but she was also at her wit's end. No matter what Mulder did, all he seemed to do was to irritate her more. She knew that she *had* been acting strange and that all he had been trying to do was to make her feel better, but he wasn't. She knew that he had tried everything that he could think of to make her lighten up; he had even gone as far as to literally go to the ends of the Earth to get her the best cup of coffee that he could. But she just couldn't appreciate it, thanks to the knawing hole in the pit of her stomach. In the end, the cup had just ended up in the trash without as much as a sip taken. It wasn't his fault; it was hers but that didn't make it any better. Mulder was a creature of habit in that he almost always acted out of fear. His decision was based on his need to protect her and himself. Sure when he had gotten his closure -he had claimed he was free- but he would never be truly free. His fear would keep him a prisoner forever. And Scully, right along with him. So after this case, she knew that a break was in order. A small vacation might do her some good; it might just give her some time to deal with her issues and go on. She would never stop loving him, for true love doesn't die easily. But she could learn to let go. Not only did she deserve that but Mulder did also. 'I thought the sun rose in your eyes and the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and the endless skies...' 'Oh shut the hell up...' Scully silently shouted right back. She closed her eyes, in an attempt to ward off a killer headache lurking around the corner. Scully heard the plastic seat squeak as Mulder leaned back and let out a deep breath. She knew that they had been driving about for more than half an hour and she hoped that sooner or later his enthusiasm would start to wane. Stealing a sly glance, Mulder momentarily studied the woman next to him, concern spreading like butter on warm pancakes. And why wouldn't it. Exhaustion seemed to ooze from every pore. Her hair -normally perfectly styled- appeared mussed. Her make-up, almost minimalist as of late, totally faded and seemed to make her appear much older than she really was. To say that she was having a bad day would be an understatement to say the least. Shrugging, Mulder turned and brought his eyes back to the road ahead of them. A sad, forlorn look seeping into his features. In the front seat of the cab, Mikos threw the phone on the seat next to him and exhaled loudly. With a start, Scully opened her eyes and leaned forward; relieved that they might just get what they had come there for. "It was a very wet, very cold night" he began softly as he put out his nub of a cigar. "I had just started running taxis' and I was eager to please; going out of my way to take pickups where ever they called from. I was going down this very same road...about 10:00pm at night." As Mikos turned the car into a curve, he grew pale. A violent shiver ran through his portly figure. He released the wheel with one hand and pointed out the window with a shaky finger. "She was right over there... right on the road-side near Locust Hill Country Club." Mulder and Scully leaned over and glanced out the window to where his finger indicated. Large rambling maple trees lined the roadside, shrouding the magnificent driveway and perfectly manicured grounds which hugged the rolling hills towards the Greek style clubhouse. "She was *just* standing there," he continued, "in her flowing white gown. I had to stop...I can't explain why. I felt like I had to. She was beautiful; long red hair and blue eyes. When I did, she just sat there...silently looking at me with the saddest look on her face." Scully heard Mikos let out a soft sigh, his obviously deeply felt emotions seeping through. "Her eyes seemed to look right through me; like she knew all of my secrets...all the dark places in my heart and she didn't care. She still accepted me for whom and what I am. When she did finally speak...she told me things...things that would later change my life." Shaking his head, he brought his hand up to his forehead to wipe off the perspiration that had collected there. "Now she didn't tell me what to do," he continued as he bit on his lip. "She told me that it wasn't her place. But she did share with me how things could be better if I would only believe. At that time I dated lots of women; I was young and didn't want to commit. But I had met this woman and she was just so...so...I can't explain it. I just knew that she was the one and I was scared. I had just gotten out of a really bad relationship and I wasn't sure if I was ready to make another leap of faith." Mikos glanced out the windshield, the gates of Ascension Cemetery just at the edge of his view. "She seemed to know my indecision. She seemed to know all of my fears and she understood them. And I just sat there and listened...until I crossed in front of Mount Ascension Cemetery. Then she just vanished. I never stopped the car so I knew she just didn't get o-o-out..." his voice sputtered emotionally to a stop. Getting himself together, he finished with a more confident tone. "When I finally got back to the station, I had -at first- been too afraid to tell anyone. But when I had heard rumors...and asked around...I found that I wasn't alone. They told me to go talk to the caretaker at the cemetery. I did...and what I learned there still haunts me to this very day." Not another sound could be heard from anyone except for the words from the radio as the agents silently contemplated his ominous statement. '...The first time ever I saw your face... your face...your face...your face....' ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 1830hrs Mount Ascension Cemetery Pittsford, NY "So you're here about Ascension Katherine?" The kindly old partially balding man questioned, as he threw the last bit of wilted flowers into the plastic garbage bag which he dragged behind him on the ground. All about him were dozens of dying wreaths, bouquets, and swags that needed to be tended to. The living's offering of appeasement to the dead. Priding himself on the quality of his job, the man scoured the grounds every two days, tending to the dead to please the living. "Who?" Two voices, male and female replied in unison, their tones hushed and alert. In all of the reports and interviews they had never heard the woman called by a name. The spoken word can give life; thus for once she wasn't just a legend to deal with. Now she was something more. They stepped into line behind him, Mulder glancing nervously about as they walked along the perfectly manicured rows of weathering tombstones. The sun, just starting to set on the horizon, burned brightly in shades of red, orange and burgundy above the fragrantly scented pine trees that bordered the area. The strong smell of freshly cut grass, the sickly sweet scent of drying flowers and the far off essence of a spring fed creek wafted about them. Life superimposed over the field of memorial, a seeming contradiction in terms. As one would look about, it was peaceful...well as graveyards go. "Ascension Katherine...or at least that's what folks 'round here call 'er," he volunteered as he continued to prune carefully, leaving no stone unexamined. "Katherine Mallory. That's her real name." Standing up, he dropped the bag to the ground and reached around, bringing his glove covered hands to his lower back. "For the longest time, we didn't even know her name. We just heard the stories...and saw things...then finally...some college kids doing some research for a thesis found out who she was. They came out here with all of this equipment: cameras, sound recorders, compasses, and some stuff which I had no clue about just to prove what we already knew." After stretching himself backward until a loud crack could be heard, he picked up the bag and gestured with his free hand to the granite and marble mausoleum just to the right and the back of him. "Come with me..." The groundskeeper smiled, revealing cigarette stained, well worn teeth. "I'll tell you...it was nice to finally be able to connect a name with the face..." Deep brown eyes turned to glance back at the stone edifice, and he then he resumed his earlier meandering. "You've seen her?" Scully inquired as she looked about the neatly lined rows of markers. She scuffed her high-heeled shoes into the damp and glistening grass, her posture seemingly relaxed. "Yep..." the man stated, "more times than I would ever want to count. And I have to tell you that she makes quite an impression." He then stopped still in his tracks, turning to face them with a far off look on his features. "Though I must say I am not disappointed that I have never had the pleasure of giving her a ride..." he chuckled and tilted his head. Bringing his hand up to point to the rolling paved entrance, "I have seen her just outside of those iron gates myself several times...just a wait'in. It was always late at night...of course...that was when I would stay late at night." The man sighed and closed his eyes. "You don't anymore..." Mulder looked over at the rusting iron gates, the hairs on his neck standing on end. Ever since arriving at Mount Ascension, he had been experiencing the most unusual sensation. It felt as if someone had been watching him. After years of looking over his shoulder, he just knew when he was under surveillance. But as he looked around, he hadn't seen anyone. Shrugging it off to paranoia, Mulder turned his attentions over to their host. "It isn't safe after dark," the man replied as he turned back to the mausoleum and began to finish his earlier pilgrimage. As he walked the soles of his boot clad feet landed with soft thuds on the earth below. "For the last couple of years we have been having problems with some 'people'...mainly teenagers...hanging around. I have found dirty needles, condom wrappers...all sorts of things..." Wandering about the flower lined sidewalk, he turned and went down the wing to the left, finally coming to a stop when he met his destination. "Ahhh here we are..." he stated as he gestured to the memorial wall next to him, "Katherine Mallory." He reached out and laid his hand on the gleaming granite slab, the name he had just spoken engraved timelessly into the gift from the earth. "Oh my God." Mulder stepped forth, any other words beyond his tongue. Imbedded into the funerary marker was a small picture, its black and white photo faded and crinkled. However time and nature could not erase the beauty that lie there. Before him -immortalized forever- was an indisputable likeness of his partner, Dana Katherine Scully. "She looks just like you, Scully." Mulder stated deadpan, as he glanced over his shoulder at her. Scully walked up to stand next to him, her face pale and etched in shock. Her mouth fell open revealing her perfect white teeth. The groundskeeper turned and smiled. "You do look like her. I noticed that the moment that I first met you. By the way, I'm Stan." "Now, from what I remember," he continued, "the Paranormal Society for something or another told me that she had attended a party -her engagement party- up at Locust Hill Country Club. From the rumors, she and her fiancé had gotten got into a pretty good tiff." Stan pushed his hands into his pocket and shrugged. "I guess she caught him with another woman out on the greens. She left and tried to walk home in a bad storm but she didn't make it. She was hit head-on by a drunk driver and was killed instantly. She *died* right outside those gates, you know. Her parents lived on Karenlee off Edgewood, just down the road a-ways." "Do they still live there?" Mulder lifted his wrist up to look at his watch, the warm metal cooling in the growing breeze. This case was getting better than better. He would have to track down the research team that had been out there. He had done his own research on the Internet but since it was such a sore topic with the authorities, maybe that was why the media had been kept out of it. 'Maybe after we speak to the team, we could go and speak to the family,' Mulder mused thoughtfully. Stan chucked softly as he nodded over towards the crypt. "According to the investigators, they moved from the area just after she died. It is said that they were eaten up by guilt since they had ignored her pleas at the party. The house still stands there but it has been long since abandoned." Bringing his hands onto his hips, Stan took a deep breath and offered, "they say she makes that trip over and over...hoping to help others. She wants to keep others from making the same mistakes that she made. Instead of facing her problems, she had left the party and ran away. I guess that it might be too late for her but it isn't for others." "These are fresh flowers." Scully mumbled softly as she stepped forth and gently touched one of the numerous dusky pink roses, as tears shone in her eyes. She was obviously moved by the story and the gesture. "Yes..." Stan reached down and picked up a single long stemmed rose. "I have worked here for 15 years and every 2 or 3 days new flowers show up while the others disappear. No one has ever seen who puts them there. Since she has no living relatives...I think it might just be that beau of hers...some sort of penance for his sins. I heard from the researchers that he married that woman he had been found with not soon after they had laid Katherine to rest." Looking up at the quickly fading sun, Stan gathered his bag and turned to face the two agents. "Oh dear... I must go. It will be getting dark soon. I don't want to be out here when they get here." "Would you mind if we stayed a while and look around?" Mulder inquired as he showed the man his firearm. Mulder surmised the only way that he would get to the truth -whatever it was- was to stay and see what might happen. Maybe Katherine would walk tonight and surprise them all. Of course, he did have an ulterior motive. A few moments alone with Scully, to figure out what the hell was going on inside of her head. "You're hoping to catch a glimpse of her aren't you? Good luck. It is said that she only comes to those who need her guidance." With that Stan turned and walked away, his steps quick and sure. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A Faith Lost by Joylynn Wing aljoyw@a-znet.com Part 4 of 9 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 2100hrs Mount Ascension Cemetery Pittsford, NY It was a night meant for lovers, however Dana Scully was alone. Well as alone as one *could* be when faced with a partner that didn't want to have anything to do with her. The clear ink black sky twinkled with a thousand stars, their light only challenged by the bright veil of the full moon. Scully pulled her black full-length jacket tighter around her waist, hoping to ward away the biting night air. Next to her, Scully could see Mulder pace excitedly. As if he were waiting for...something. But what, she wasn't sure. They had remained on the grounds for hours after most of the traffic on the main road had stopped. Pushing a stray strand of moonlight streaked hair behind a cold ear, she sat back against the granite and iron bench with a loud sigh. Scully no longer could contain the frustration, which she was feeling. "Mulder...I would just like to thank you." Mulder turned, his face revealing his shock at her finally speaking to him, as his coat flapped in the steadily growing breeze. "Thank me for what, Scully- my fantastic sense of humor?" Mulder replied deadpan. "You really know how to show a girl a good time," Scully's bright blue eyes shooting daggers straight into his heart, her honeyed alto tones dripping with sarcasm. "I am cold, wet and hungry. Instead of being in my motel room with take-out and a nice hot bath, I am in a cemetery, in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts." "Scully...come on and admit it. You secretly love this little adventure of ours." And then as Mulder took in her infamous drop-dead look, he shrugged and replied, "or maybe not." Mulder walked up and stepped in front of his slight partner, effectively blocking the growing winds from chilling her. "So even after all that you have heard, you still think he made up the whole thing? Mulder shoved his hands into his pockets and began to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Mulder...he did test positive for alcohol from his post- operative blood screens. He was obviously impaired." Scully crossed her legs and tucked her bare hands under the sleeves of her coat. Why did he persist in this manner? She had shown him the hard copy of the tests herself yet still he wouldn't even entertain the thought that maybe she might be right? Mulder knelt down and brought his hands to rest on her trouser clad knees, tears shining brightly in his eyes. "Why can't you believe Scully?" Scully's heart nearly broke when she heard and saw the pain the man which she loved was feeling. Scully brought her hands out from their warm cocoon and reached down, taking his hands in hers. "Mulder," Scully offered with the most sincere voice, "I must admit that I have seen and experienced many things which have defied science and logic." She squeezed his hand gently before she let go and placed her palms on his cool, stubbled face. "Why, just in the past few months...let's just say I am more open minded than ever. However, before I believe...I need some creditable proof. That is who *I* am. This is what *we* are. I would not be honest if I were any other way...to myself...or to you." Mulder smiled shakily, his seemingly fears relieved. "I couldn't have made it this far without you, Scully. You are my everything. You are my strength, my human credential, my logic...without you..." "God Mulder," Scully interrupted as she rolled her eyes. "It sounds like a bad song..." She really didn't need to hear his professions of appreciation. All it served to do was to upset her more. What right did he have to tell her those things? If he wasn't interested in pursuing their relationship any further, he should just leave well enough alone. "Scully, what is bothering you?" Mulder sat back on his heels, effectively disconnecting their contact. "Have I done something to offend you?" Mulder inquired in a husky, annoyed tone. "Why did you kiss me New Year's Eve?" Scully dropped her face on to her chest and studied the material of her coat carefully. She needed to hear his words from him directly, then maybe in her mind she could accept her fate and move on. However, she knew that her heart could never follow suit. Mulder's mouth literally fell to the ground. He moved his mouth several times; his eyes wide with fear, but Scully didn't hear any response. After a moment, Mulder slowly stood up and slowly sat next to her. "I-I-It was New Year's Eve," he replied shakily, "everyone does it. It's a tradition." "Ahhh...that's why I thought you did it." Scully lowered her lids, the tears threatening to fall. What had she expected? That he would be straight with her? Please, she knew that was about as extreme as any possibility could be. Mulder leaned back and looked about the quiet grounds around them. Mulder then raised his hands and looked quietly down at them as if to say why did this have to happen now? "Why? What do you think it meant?" Mulder lifted her chin up so that her eyes would meet his. "I don't know...considering this thing between us, I guess I might have been expecting more." Scully mumbled, her voice uncharacteristically nervous. She then turned to study his face, hoping to see something there to soothe the aching need that she felt. She saw nothing but pity...an emotion, which she would never tolerate. "Scully..." Mulder squirmed about in his seat, his discomfort most apparent. "Don't deny it Mulder" Scully replied firmly, her eyes flashing with anger. Did he think he was going to get off that easily? "Don't deny how you feel about me...how I feel about you." Scully stood up, his closeness suddenly too claustrophobic for her at the moment. "Scully, I have no idea how you feel about me." Mulder seemed to wince at those words just as quickly as he had said them. "Please...you really have no idea? Why did you tell me then?" If Scully had been angry before, she was pissed now. How could he not know? He had even gone as far as to read her journal while she was in the hospital. Those were love letters. Well as much as she would ever write. She knew that this was his denial at work. She knew that he did know, but to admit that would probably destroy any strength that he did have. "And *what* a reception that was!" Mulder stood up, his body oozing with frustration. "Mulder...you had nearly drowned." Scully stood up and turned away from him, as tears streamed down her cool cheeks. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of letting him see her cry. "You were strung out on drugs and had a head injury. How fair would that have been, throwing myself at you in that condition? Making you commit to something you might not have been ready for at a moment, when you were so vulnerable? I would never do that; not to you or to me. And you know what, I'm glad I resisted." "What!?" Mulder grabbed her trembling shoulders and spun her around. "Look at us now, Mulder." Scully raised her hands in the air as if to make a point. "We are still in the same place we were then...." Shrugging, she looked at her fingers. "Frankly I am disappointed that you are too afraid to go any further...to look for the truth -our truth- which has always existed within ourselves, *although* you aren't too afraid to search for the truth out *there* no matter what the cost." "Scully, I never promised you anything." Mulder brought his hands up to rest on her shoulders, the heat of his skin cutting through every layer which she wore. "But you did," Scully insisted as her tear filled eyes implored his as her hair blew about her drawn features. "Not in words, but in your actions and your intentions. I waited seven years, seven years...for the time to be right. Seven years is a long time to be alone especially when I didn't have to be. I've had offers, Mulder. But I believed we were worth it." Scully had stressed the word 'we'. How had they come to this? Maybe she should have left well enough alone. "I'm sorry...." Mulder mumbled out as he looked down at the ground. Scully turned, making sure that he couldn't see the emotions, which she knew were present on her features. "I just want to know one thing, Mulder. Why? Why now? When things seemed to finally be moving forward between us." Scully shoved her hands into her pockets and clenched her fists. Mulder sighed and closed his eyes as if he didn't want to go into this any further. "I don't know, Scully. I guess it has been a long time in coming. I thought that we could work, that eventually we would be good together but after my mother-" "Don't tell me that this is all about your mother, Mulder." Scully cringed as she resisted the urge to reach over and strangle the life out of him. "It is...and it isn't, Scully." Mulder reached over and turned her to face him, his hazel eyes embracing her blue. "You're all that I have left, Scully...everything. You are it. I am alone in this and I can't afford to lose you. What I feel for you isn't enough. I have nearly lost you so many times before and my love can't protect you." "Mulder..." Scully replied as a wave of overwhelming compassion encircled her heart. She reached up and took his face in her hands as his warm wet tears bathed away her anger in a baptism of fire. "I'm losing you now, Scully." Mulder entwined his hands into her glistening strands of moonlit fire. As he looked into her eyes, the tears shone as bright as any star in the sky above. "Look at you; your hair, your clothes, your make-up. You are not the same woman that I fell in love with." "Don't even tell me this is about my hair, Mulder." Scully chuckled softly and smiled as several more tears fell from her eyes. "Then I would have to shoot you again." "You've aged...you seem so tired, so burned out." Mulder reached out and took a strand of hair into his hand as if the silk was etching her into his very being. "I've done this to you...my work has done this to you. I've taken away the fire...and there is nothing that I can do to bring it back." "Mulder, I have changed...we have changed." A gust of wind swirled her hair about her face and she brought up her hand to push the unruly strands behind her ear. "And there is nothing that you can do about it. But it was my choice, Mulder. I chose to be here. I will always be here. Pushing me away will only hurt me more; I do not need you to protect me." Mulder smiled, "I know that you can take care of yourself, never doubt that, but my needing you so much will surely destroy you." Mulder then stepped back from her as he continued. "And I do not want to hurt you. I couldn't live with that. Not now, not ever." Scully wiped her eyes with the rough material of her sleeve, her skin stinging in the cool air. Just like her heart. Enough was enough. It was clear that Mulder wasn't going to change his mind and she certainly wasn't going to beg him. "On the contrary to what you may believe, not everything is about you." She then pointed to her chest. "This is about me and my needs too, you know. You may not want a chance at some sort of a real life, but I do..." her words fell off as she became distracted. Scully walked to the side and searched the distance. She swore that just a moment ago she had heard footsteps, soft yet close enough to hear them clearly, even during her diatribe. Reaching behind her coat, she palmed the butt of her SIG P228. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Mulder also withdrew his SIG and automatically adopted a Isosceles stance with his arms in the resting position. However, he immediately regretted it. His feet were spread apart about shoulder width with his knees slightly bent. This made his balance less than optimal and his recovery time would increase. However, with the situation at hand, it would have to do. He knew that they would be on the move soon. "What did you hear?" Suddenly all that had transpired just a few short minutes ago disappeared with a drop of perspiration which trickled down the middle of his shoulder blades. "I thought that I heard something..." Scully turned around slowly, all of her well-trained senses on full alert. From what seemed all around them, the soft sounds began to grow. "It seems to be coming from two different directions; the north and the south gate." Scully continued, confirming what he already knew. Mulder glanced over at Scully and with a mutual nod, they both began to quickly walk from the oncoming sounds. Since the bright moonlight and open expanse did little to provide safety, Mulder knew they had to get cover fast. "Let's get over there...we'll have some cover," Mulder whispered as he pointed to the granite structure. Mulder and Scully walked quickly towards the middle of the cemetery towards the mausoleum, their shoes slip sliding across the dew covered grass. But no matter how fast they seemed to travel for cover, the sounds behind them seemed to increase, now containing the faint sounds of footsteps. After a few moments they found themselves flat against the stone wall. "I still can't seem to make out how many there are, Mulder however they are making a little *too* much noise to just be one person coming from each entrance." Scully pressed herself further against the hard, cool surface of the granite monument, trying to hide herself from the decorative lights that lined the walkway. "I agree. Since I think that we both can agree that someone isn't visiting old Uncle Joe at this time of the night, I would hazard a guess that these are the people that the officer and the groundskeeper spoke of." Mulder turned his head and quickly surveyed their slim options. Mulder noted the tree line in the distance, but they wouldn't make it there in time. And given where the noises were coming from, the road was definitely out. "We need to hide," Mulder whispered softly. "Somewhere they can't see us but we can see them." Tactically he knew that they were at a disadvantage. With nowhere to run without being exposed and nowhere to hide, they could do very little to protect themselves short of a full frontal confrontation. As Mulder continued to look about -looking for any viable options- out of the corner of his eye, a glimmer of a possibility surfaced. "Scully," Mulder whispered with the most devilish of grins, and with a nod of his head he directed her to exactly what he had in mind. About 10 feet up on the mausoleum wall, surrounded by all of the other sealed crypts was one that wasn't. It was covered with a partially open metal door. On the walk below were stacked chairs, flower stands and other such things in future preparation for a funeral. "You can't be serious, Mulder." Scully's eyes grew wide with dread. "I'm not..." Scully managed to mutter nervously as she shook her head in disbelief. Scully's words struck Mulder like a cold pail of water and he took in a deep breath of realization due to something that he had not even considered. Scully might not be as up to it as he had assumed. From just the look on her face and the tone in her voice told him that just the thought of being in that dark, enclosed space scared her beyond imagination. And why wouldn't it. Although she would never admit it to him, Mulder knew that as a result of her abduction trauma and her experience with Pfaster, she might have a fear of small spaces. As much as Mulder didn't want to bring up disturbing memories, he knew that there was no other choice. With a firm but gentle touch, Mulder pushed her back towards the crypt, her slight weight no match for his effort. He then turned around and turned her with him. "Mulder!?" Scully gasped as Mulder wrapped his strong arm around her waist to steady her as he began to pull off her shoes. As Mulder's fingers brushed across the smooth silky surface of her nylon, Mulder couldn't help but notice the shudder, which his touch elicited. As much as he knew that he had made the right decision, just knowing how his touch could affect her made him want to throw her down on the ground and make her scream in ecstasy. He was pretty sure by the way Scully's breath quickened, it wouldn't take very much at all. "Sshhhh..." Mulder admonished as he removed her last shoe and tossed it to the ground. Threading his fingers together, he created a foot-hold for Scully to step into. "You have to get...do you think that you can reach up there?" Over his shoulder, he could hear the voices grow louder and he knew that they had very little time left. Scully shook her head, as she took a step back. "Mulder, I can't..." Even in the near darkness that their spot provided, Mulder could see the growing apprehension which was spreading throughout her features. He wished that he could ease her into this, but their time was running out. "Hurry up...they are coming..." Mulder whispered as he reached down and pulled her foot towards him. With a sigh and a slump of her shoulders, Scully acquiesced and stepped into Mulder's hands. From below, a bright reassuring smile flashed across Mulder's dark features. They would make it through this, just like they did everything else. Returning the smile, she brought her hands to rest on his shoulders. Once Mulder was sure that Scully was steadied, Mulder slowly stood up, pressing himself into the wall behind. With Scully's legs and body in his way, Mulder could only rely on his other senses while he boosted her up. The scent of her perfume and her clothes assaulted him, literally enveloping him in his very own Scully-cloud. After a second, he felt her pull herself up enough to get her foot on his shoulder and in an instant, she was gone. Mulder thanked God that that ordeal was over. Having Scully climb up over his body was more than he could have ever imagined. Feeling her slide against him had set off every inch of his body into a frenzy. Visions of him making love to her resurfaced and he found himself growing quickly aroused by them. Mulder took a deep breath and grabbed her shoes, tossing them up to an awaiting Scully. He then jumped onto a bench and fumbled about like a boy on a first date, trying to get himself a good handhold. Once he found one, he stepped up on to the back of the bench and with a jump; he literally flung himself into the opening, landing right on top of Scully's back. "Mulder, get off." Scully wheezed as Mulder pulled the grate shut, enclosing them in the thick darkness. Even in the predicament that he was in now he realized that being in there with Scully was probably more threatening than being out there with the unknown, since she was armed. Laying fully on top of her yielding form was playing havoc with his libido, and things were starting to stir below. Mulder squirmed to get off of her, but the tight quarters served to only impede his efforts. He prayed silently that Scully didn't notice the impressive piece of wood digging in her back as he tried to slide his hips down and off of her body. "My, my Scully. Is there something that you haven't told me?" Mulder quipped before he could stop the words. Old habits were hard to break, as the bulk of her holster dug into his impressive hard-on. "Mulder, you are such an ass." Scully brought her palms flat down and lifted herself up to her knees. Letting out a soft huff, she looked over her shoulder and shot him a look that could freeze lava. "And you just thought of this?" Mulder chuckled nervously softly into her ear as he brought his hand up and ran it through his thick hair. This was too much. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get his wandering thoughts back under control. He could smell her; vanilla mixed with baby powder touched with overtones of what he knew to be Scully's own essence. Both became silent as the crypt they were enclosed in, when the sounds which they had heard earlier were now finally just below. They could hear their heavy breaths; they could literally smell the alcohol up as far as they were. "This is way too cool," a soft male voice commented. "Look at this...no one for miles to bother us. No wonder everyone is talking about it." Scully looked back at Mulder as she arched a brow. The moonlight was just starting to creep in around the edges of the grate, sending small fingers of light to illuminate the very cramped space. "We told you when we spoke to you earlier on the phone that this would be a good place. My associate and myself would never steer you wrong. We pride ourselves on our customer satisfaction." Mulder smiled and waggled his brows in reply as he leaned forward just a bit more. Now that he had finally given up to the party going on in his boxers, he was having way too much fun for it to be legal. Scully's rapidly rising, very ragged breaths filled the silence, and he could swear that even in the near darkness he could see the arousal in her eyes. Now he knew that he shouldn't be enjoying this but the Mulder-devil side of him just wouldn't relent. He had been in tight spots before with Scully, and as always she had remained cool and dignified. But his time...what he had always dreamed of seeing was right in front of him and he couldn't help but push her on. "We have been meeting here for years and never have been busted. The two of us have everything under control. Out here in the country, no one bothers you. But just in case -as you can see- from up *here* we can see anybody coming into the cemetery." After a lengthy beat, the conversation continued. "So, how much for the bag?" Those spoken words really got their attention. These individuals must be the ones that the officer and the grounds-person had spoken of. They were just about to deal. Mulder and Scully just looked at one another. They may have not gotten what they had come there for, but this would liven up the evening quite nicely. "Fifty bucks for a hit- a hundred for the whole bag. My associate just got this shipment yesterday and it is fresh as you'll ever get." "That much? It had better be good." "It's the best weed that you will ever smoke...you'll be on cloud nine, I promise. Our customers are always pleased with our business. So much so in fact, we even have even started up a little sideline involving two beautiful young women that are waiting back in the car. For a little extra, they give good lovin'." Ok...now things were *really* starting to get interesting. Not only did they possibly have a drug deal going down, but now solicitation; a two for one deal. Mulder found himself growing more and more aroused by the moment. Not only could he sense the tension dripping off of her but now he swore he could 'smell' her similar state. He took a deep breath, his nose confirming what he had already suspected. That, plus the excitement of the hunt, was driving him insane. This was not good. How could they continue working together when they reacted this way to one another? How had they gotten along until now? He wasn't sure of the answer to either question since the only thing that was different was their mutual understanding of how the other felt. Before it had been understood but now voiced thus they could deny what they felt and life would go on. But now it couldn't. They couldn't. The only way he could think of dealing with it was to make a joke out of it so Mulder raised both of his brows and shot Scully the best leer that he could under the circumstances *without* her taking out her gun and shooting him again. "Two women? At once? Jesus-" As Mulder had predicted, Scully raised a brow, a small nervous smile breaking across her face as she carefully shifted her weight. Mulder sensed the electricity that crackled in the air between them and he knew it could easily power a small city...too bad it was going to be wasted on a bunch of loser punks. "Yeah, they are very agreeable and beautiful. For a small fee, they will make your wildest dreams come true. So, what can I get for you this evening?" "Hmmm. I think a bag will do. And there is no way in hell that I would pass up the company of two women. Men have died for less." "Good choice. Two great tastes that taste good together. If you would follow us, we have the goods stashed not far from here." Mulder and Scully sat there quietly until the voices they had just been listening to finally started to fade back into the rich night sounds. Mulder then quickly squeezed himself between Scully and the crypt's wall. He couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going to follow them, Scully." Mulder grunted as he pushed the grate open, "you call for back- up." Before Scully could even respond, Mulder dropped to the ground with a loud thud and a groan and ran off into the night. "Mulder?!" Scully called softly, as she too pulled herself up to the opening. Scully then leaned back against the rough wall, as she blew out a breath in abject disgust. Ditched again but this time in a cemetery. 'Down girl...what the hell are you thinking?' Scully mused as she tried to calm down the hormones that surged through her body. Those few moments spent in the crypt had been total hell for her, for no matter what she had done, nothing seemed to quell her desire. For Scully, desire was often linked to danger...the dark side. She had always found herself attracted to dangerous men, dangerous situations. The rush that accompanied them so addictive, that oftentimes interchanging the two effected her the same way. Add these two together, mix in a healthy dose of anger and voila, she was a powder keg ready to blow. "Sure, *I'll* call 911, while you the *big* strong he-man go off and save the day." Scully muttered as she grabbed her cell phone from her pocket. As she punched the numbers in with an angry touch, she looked down at the ground far below and said, "you owe me big time, mister." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*