From: sonny <sonny@webspin.org>
Date: Mon, 26 Jul 99 19:20:43 +1000
Subject: Human Affairs Parts 1-2/7
Source: direct

Title: Human Affairs
Author : Spider
Email address:  spider@webspin.org. all parts can be found at
www.webspin.org/affairs.htm
Rating : R for adult sexual concepts
Category : S
Spoilers: Everything up to but not including Biogenesis
Keywords: MSR, slight S/other, M/angst
Synopsis: Mulder's Oxford flat mate arrives unexpectedly with a
compound mystery; modern dinosaur and human remains are found near a
Loch in northern England.

Disclaimers/Credits: Opening narrative by Sir Richard Burton from
Jeff Wayne's musical album 'War of the Worlds' copyright Jeff Wayne
Music Ltd/Duchess Music Inc. Lyrics from same album "Forever Autumn"
by Gary Osborne & Paul Vingrass "The Spirit of Man" by Gary Osborne
all used without permission. Re X files and their characters of
course belong to Fox, Chris Carter et al...but I figure if kids are
allowed to play with Mulder and Scully Barbie dolls, then we grown
ups can play with their literary versions :-)

Author's note: Geographical locations and castles do not exist.
Lochabee is a pseudonym =AD I refrained from using its real name for
fear of reprisals. C14 dating uses the term ya (meaning years ago)
the baseline for ya is 1950. That means an item dated at 150ya is, in
today's terms, (June 1999 ) 200 years old. The tale of the garden
fairies is based on a true story (though the location is further
south). Harry Houdini and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did in fact
investigate the matter but were unable to debunk it. Eastman (from
Kodak Eastman) verified the film plates had not been tampered with.
And as for the cat, well I lived next door to one.

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

HUMAN AFFAIRS PART 1/7
'No-one would have believed, in the last years of the nineteenth
century, that human affairs were being watched from the timeless
worlds of space. No one could have dreamed we were being scrutinised,
as someone with a microscope studies creatures that swarm and
multiply in a drop of water. Few men even considered the possibility
of life on other planets and yet, across the gulf of space, minds
immeasurably superior to ours regarded this earth with envious eyes
and slowly but surely, they drew their plans against us.' 
H.G. Wells 'War of the Worlds' as narrated by Sir Richard Burton.


PROLOGUE
CHRISTMAS DAY 1999
LOCH MEADE NORTHERN ENGLAND
"Noooo...!" He screamed in disbelief "No....nooooo...Sculllllyyyyy!"
Mulder's vocal chords almost shredded in a primal howl of agony. 
His legs gave out and he slumped into the snow, desperately shaking
his head in denial. His eyes filled with grief and horror at what he
had done. The pain from the blow to his head was nothing to the
clawing agony of having his heart and stomach torn from him.
Fragments of the launch cascaded back into the water in slow motion.
He frantically eyed each piece of debris, willing each one to move,
to show some sign of life. But it was impossible. Nothing could have
survived the explosion.
He sat in shock, slowly rocking back and forth, half frozen, scanning
every inch of the water, knowing he had killed her. Knowing it was
finally over.
Special Agent Fox Mulder had seen men die in a dozen foul ways. He'd
cradled the head of his own father, impotent in the face of impending
death. And he had killed men, with regret, but never with guilt. 
How could this be? How could he have fought so hard to bring her back
from death so many times, only to have it end like this, at his hands?
Mulder shook his head in angry denial, refusing to believe this could
be so. Unbidden, helpless tears welled in his eyes. They said she'd
been locked in a safe place. Mulder had never considered that safe
place to be the forward cabin of the launch. 
She should never have been there! But as his face collapsed into his
hands he knew it was not true. He had not asked her, he had expected
- no - demanded it of her, as much as he had demanded it of himself.
He had forced his crusade upon her, a crusade that had ended in
nothing but her destruction at his hands.


CHAPTER 1
ONE WEEK EARLIER
WASHINGTON D.C.
Fox Mulder sat in their basement office of the FBI building, idly
flipping through a magazine as he waited for his partner, Dana Scully
to finish. God knows why he waited, it wasn't as if they were going
anywhere together. 
Exactly, he thought idly, going nowhere fast. 
With only two days until Christmas their caseload was surprisingly
light. Too damned cold even for the psycho's, Mulder idly pondered.
It had given them plenty of time to examine and dispose of the navel
lint around the office. Unfortunately it also gave him time to
examine his own navel lint, a dangerous pass time at best.
Mulder deftly fingered the remaining sunflower seeds from the rumpled
packet on his desk. He had promised himself this Christmas would be
different. This year he would not call her at the family dinner, or
drag her out to some lunatic ghost house. This year his Christmas
present to Scully - beside that little box burning a hole in his
overcoat - would be no phone calls from Mulder. This Christmas the
sky could fall in and he would not, just this once, interfere with
Scully's life.
What little life he'd left for her that is.
Mulder's feet were propped on the edge of the table, crossed at the
ankles. Despite the counter balance his legs provided, his chair
tipped at an angle that defied the laws of physics. He crunched
delicately on the last sunflower seed and tongued the husk into his
hand. Holding the magazine in the other hand, he let it fall
vertically to examine the centerfold "Hey, Scully, this is really
something," 
Scully briefly lifted her eyes above her glasses and computer screen
to her partner. One glance at the angle of the magazine provoked a
slightly bemused, ever-suffering expression. "Don't tell me, she's an
alien abductee as evidenced by certain gravity defying physical
attributes."
"Well I can't comment about the alien abductee part, but she's
certainly gravity defying. No seriously, you have to see this, she's
perfect in every way. Talk about the fountain of youth!"
Scully chose to ignore him and concentrated on the complex molecular
structure displayed on the screen. If she could just get that
compound's structure to fit....
"Ah, c'mon Scully," Mulder tipped forward, swung his legs off the
table and stood. He strode across to his partner's desk and planted
the centerfold directly over the monitor. Holding the magazine in
place he moved to stand slightly behind her, sharing her view of the
magnificent centerfold.
Desiring as little eye full as possible of Mulder's usual fair,
Scully's face screwed up and her head snapped back, almost slamming
into his groin. Mulder unconsciously pulled back. The proximity was
nice, but not if it crippled him.
Scully blinked in surprise. Her face changed to one of admiration and
she looked closer. "Wow, it's a World WarII Corsair, perfectly
restored."
"Ooooh," Mulder sucked the air through his teeth and leaning
millimeters from her ear whispered hoarsely "You know how much that
turns me on Scully."
His partner did not reply, but the carefully indifferent set of her
lips and eyes would have shattered a lesser man.
"Your brother's models? The distinctive gull wings?" Mulder continued
whispering in what any other female would easily have interpreted as
a seductive drawl.
"Nope," Scully replied in her casually professional manner "The
caption in the box at the bottom." 
Scully turned her face to his, apparently unfazed by his proximity
and added in what he thought of as her school Ma'am voice "It's nice
to see you're broadening your subscription base, Mulder."
Before he could retort with one of his usual quips the door burst in
and a lanky figure peered around the corner. The newcomer's
mischievous eyes and roguish grin reminded her so much of Mulder that
Scully blinked in surprise. Yet as the tall stranger burst out
laughing, Scully realised he looked nothing like Mulder. His short
blonde hair sat in stunning contrast to a full, closely cropped black
beard. Although a similar build and height to Mulder's lanky six foot
frame, the new comer's rounded face made him appear stockier. 
"Fox you old bastard, what are you doing residing in this basement.
Oh, ho!" he laughed as he looked around, "I see the FBI couldn't cure
you of your slovenly habits so they very sensibly evicted you to the
dungeon!"
"Dale!" Mulder exclaimed in pure delight. 
Scully glanced from her partner's face to the newcomer's. Nope, they
were like chalk and cheese. Scully blinked, somewhat taken back as
the two men embraced. She had never seen Mulder hug a man before,
unless he was trying to restrain him. It just didn't seem...Mulder. 
"What the hell are you doing here?" Mulder laughed, "I figured you'd
taken root in that musty old ruin of yours. "
"Ruin? Ruin! My dear chap if you are referring to my sixteenth
century castle..." But the stranger's voice cut off as he spied
Scully, obscured by the computer screen. "Oh my, I do say old boy
your secretary is a great deal more pleasing to the eye than mine."
The men disengaged and Mulder's eyes twinkled as he looked at Scully.
"Dale Forrester, this is Dana Scully, my partner."
"Oh," Forrester looked sincerely contrite "Oh, please accept my
apologies Ms. Scully, or is it detective Scully....or, oh bugger,
help me out here Fox, what do you people call yourselves again?" he
asked in a distinctive aristocratic English.
"Doctor." replied Mulder.
"Agent." Scully replied simultaneously. 
Scully eyed her partner questioningly. He never introduced her as
that. 
"Oh," Dale's face stiffened slightly. Scully frowned, further
confused by Forrester's reaction. But then Forrester forcibly
brightened and held out his hand by way of introduction. 
"Hello Doctor Agent Scully, the pleasure is mine." He leaned forward
in a slightly conspirital manner and whispered loudly, "Look, I can
put in a good word for you with your superiors if you wish. You can't
possibly be working with this...person...by choice." 
His infectious grin disarmed Scully and she could feel herself
smiling as she stood and held her hand out in reply. "It's Agent
Scully and I'm not a practicing M.D., I'm a forensic pathologist."
Forrester's eyes brightened and he threw a knowing frown in Mulder's
direction.
"Agent Scully, how nice to meet you at last. I'd love to say how much
I've heard about you but your partner has been less than forthcoming.
I was under the impression you were more a Watson to his Sherlock. I
should of course surmised you were a Doctor, but Fox never indicated
you were a lady."
Scully shot an 'I'll deal with you later' stare at Mulder, who was
looking both amused and resigned.
"All right, all right, you can knock off the charm Dale, she's my
partner, not a post grad, or are you still stuck on under grads?"
Forester gave him a hurt look "I've advanced to post doctorates,
philosophy, that is. I need more...eh...intellectual stimulation as I
grow older." 
"Sounds kinky." Mulder grinned.
"Well as you are so fond of saying, it's only kinky the first time.
But seriously old chap, they are far cuddlier than your collection
and right ha...." Forrester stopped himself, suddenly remembering
Scully's gender.
"Why didn't you email me you were coming? You could have stayed with
me." Mulder extracted a chair from beneath a mountain of file boxes
and holding it out opposite his desk, motioned for Dale to sit. He
turned to Scully "Dale and I roomed together at Oxford for a coupla
years." 
His partner's eyes finally registered understanding.
"Stay with you Mulder," Forrester looked horrified "Oh my dear boy
you are joking of course. Never, ever again! Two years was 729 days
too many as it was! No, no no no no! No, I've just popped across the
briny for a fleeting visit with the Ambassador and I thought I'd drop
by and invite you to a Christmas supper this evening. 
"I would be most offended if you did not come too, Agent Scully." he
dropped his voice to a conspirital hush, "I have mystery for you I
just know you're going to love!"
Mulder tapped his teeth with his pencil "I wondered what it would
take to get you on a plane again. It's been more than ten years..."
but he belatedly saw the trap he'd set himself. Mulder's irreverent
and extraordinarily fast wit suddenly fell into a yawning verbal
black hole. He desperately tried to make eye contact before
Forrester's equally fast wit placed his life in peril.
Too late.
"Yes, well I could hardly have refused to be your good man could I? I
mean I just had to warn the poor woman before she plunged in. Alas,
Mulder," Forrester continued, utterly oblivious to the cataclysmic
change in the room's atmospheric conditions "I'm so sorry it ended so
soon, but..." Forrester failed to see Mulder's scrunched face buried
behind his right hand, "It was so nice to bump into her on the way
through these great walls..."
Mulder's face screwed up into a knot of almost gargoyle proportions.
Placing his hands on the arms of his chair he gingerly raised
himself...
"She mentioned that you had worked together recently and I am so very
pleased to see that no ill feelings..."
...and sat down as if on a bed of very sharp nails.
"Fox, old boy you don't look well. Did I say something..?" Forrester
glanced across at Scully, who sat frozen, her eyes wide and
unfocussed, her lips slightly parted. He glanced back again at Mulder
"Oh Fox I am so sorry for the faux pas, I just naturally assumed..."
Mulder's testicles had migrated north and were now lodged somewhere
in his throat. "Naturally," he wheezed, unable to will his eyes open
in fear of having them frozen in situ if they crossed his partner's
gaze.
"Oh, well, old son, that is all water under the bridge as they say."
Forrester looked nervously between the two of them and he stood
quickly from his chair. Picking a card from his pocket he dropped it
on Mulder's desk and hurriedly added "Well this is the address, black
tie, of course. Eh, you still own a tux old chap?"
Mulder smiled sickly and dared a raised eyelid.
"Good chap! Well, then 8 o'clock? " Forrester made his way to the
door "And I do so very hope you will grace is with your company Agent
Scully, I think you will find what I have to tell you is most
interesting! Yes, most interesting indeed!"
Scully pulled her eyes back into focus and smiled vacantly at the
attractive Forrester. "Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Good o! I look forward to it, farewell then Fox!" and he swept from
the room.
Scully tapped her right index fingernail on the computer keyboard,
staring vacantly at the recently replaced "I want to believe Poster"
above Mulder's head. She waited for the troupe of little gray
Reticulans to open a hatch and scuttle down across Mulder's shoulder.
Then she frowned, wondering why they were taking so long.
Extraterrestrial life, she could handle that in a pinch, but...
Mulder shot up from his seat and grabbed his overcoat as he rushed
for the door like a man fleeing the hounds of Hell. He more or less
threw the card on Scully's lap and croaked "Meet ya there..." on the
way out. Scully hardly saw him leave, mostly because he was moving
just a tad faster than the speed of light.
"Mu....?" She glanced down at the card and noticed the address.

HUMAN AFFAIRS
CHAPTER 2
BASEMENT FBI HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON DC
It took her fifteen minutes to bring Mulder's full FBI background on
screen. That level of access required approval from A.D.'s only, but
Scully had learned a few tricks from the Lone Gunmen. She knew her
brain was functioning but...perhaps there were still traces of the
fungicidal hallucinogenic in her blood? She should check that out
later. Meanwhile, she readjusted her reading glasses and peered at
the screen. 
Marital Status: Never Married 
Scully reloaded the page.
Twice.
She dialed Mulder on her cell phone but the operator announced the
usual platitude. Mulder had turned off his cell phone. 
She repeated that piece of information to herself twice. 
Mulder had turned off his cell phone.
Scully checked her pulse, she had to be hallucinating.
The phone cheeped loudly in her hand. Scully blinked and stared at it
"Scully."
"Oh, Agent Scully, look, it's Dale Forrester here. I'm most terribly
sorry to call you. I did try Fox but he's phone seems to be
inoperational."
"Yes," Scully replied, a slight frown on her face "Mr. Forrester, how
did you get my number?"
"Oh, my, I don't believe this. I do not, as you Yanks say, do
tactless well. On the way out I asked the reception desk for Fox's
card so I could call him. I only have his home number and I wanted to
be sure to catch him. Unfortunately it seems they had run out of his
cards, so they gave me one of yours instead and wrote his number on
the back. But as I said, his is not answering. Is that all right?" he
finished in a small voice, clearly beside himself.
"Yes Mr. Forrester," Scully smiled as a logical explanation entered
her world once again. "That's perfectly all right, what can I do for
you?"
"Well, you see, as I said I'm not normally tactless...and I....oh
look I'm so terribly sorry I mentioned Fox's marriage. It only lasted
a few months before it was annulled..'
"Annulled?"
"Look, I daren't say more because I feel I have already made an idiot
of myself. It's just that as you are his working partner I did not
think that....well what I mean is I...."
"Mr. Forrester, "
"....As you are law enforcement officers and partners you would
not....I mean ...." 
"Mr. Forrester?" 
"Oh dear oh dear, I'm only making more of a fool of myself, something
I most definitely can ill afford to do at this time...."
"Dale!"
That got his attention and he stopped as Scully continued "Mr.
Forrester, you are perfectly correct. Agent Mulder and I are working
partners. I admit I was a little....ahm....taken back, but I respect
Mulder's privacy."
"Oh I am so pleased to hear you say that, when I saw Diana on the way
in...."
"Diana?" Scully asked in a flat voice, barely maintaining her grip on
the phone.
"Yes, Fox's wife.... ah, ex-wife. Well, I gathered they still got
along quite well. I once wondered why it was an annulment and not a
divorce....I mean a divorce in this country is so easy these days and
no longer bears the stigma that, eh....but, well I also understand
that for the sake of their careers, working in the same
environment....Oh look, there I go again. I must end this
conversation and start anew when we meet tonight. Would you do me the
courtesy of that Agent Mulder? Strike it from the record, as you say?"
Scully smiled in spite of her shock. Shock? Nope, shock was way down
there along with little and understated, small, inconsequential and
meaningless. 
"That's perfectly all right Mr. Forrester."
"And Agent Scully, may I beg of you one further request? He waited a
moment, taking her silence as an affirmation "Please call me Dale?"
=A0
Scully glanced at the wall clock, surprised to see it was almost
6.45pm. That gave her only a little over an hour get home and change.
But she wanted to enlarge the surveillance photo. Damn, surely there
was a better copy on file than this one. Of course she could just
take it upstairs, have it computer rendered and....
And what? "Oh, can you just enhance this photo of my partner's left
hand....yes, that's the one. What am I looking for? Oh, just a
wedding ring."
Scully typed in a final request and ran the sequence through
again....there! Was that a glint? She ran it back, cut his hand out
and enlarged it. It was not as if more evidence was required,
Mulder's vanishing act was proof in itself. She just needed more
physical evidence. 
The computer took a few moments to reopen the memory heavy file but
when it did, Scully sat back in her seat for all of thirty seconds
and tried to defreeze her mind. 
I am not going to think about this now, she told herself sternly.
Mulder obviously had his reasons for keeping it from her. He always
had his reasons, doling at the information in little dribs and drabs
until he came up with a conclusion that bore very little resemblance
to the evidence at hand. 
He wasn't spooky, he was a walking non sequitur.
Frustratingly, and the reason she stayed on, she mantra'ed to herself
a dozen times each week, was that the sheer scope of his brilliance
and insight frequently proved correct. Mulder shamed the cleverest
analytical lateral thinkers into apparent narrow mindedness. He
forced her inquisitive mind to minutely examine every obscure crevice
of her precious science in an effort to explain the unexplainable.
Working with Mulder...well, never a dull moment. Politics and
machinations aside, Scully often wondered if the rarefied powers that
be had allowed their reassignment to the X-files at least in part
because their closure rate was light years ahead of every other
department. It made for good FBI P.R.
Except, of course, when it involved little gray aliens.
=A0
Scully wandered out of the building with an odd, fixed look on her
face. Numerous agents wished her goodnight and she responded
automatically. At least two asked if she was all right but she
mouthed the auto reply "I'm fine, thanks, Merry Christmas to you,
too." 
=A0
The road had been icy that morning so she had opted for a cab. Big
mistake. There would be a dozen Christmas parties this Thursday
night, the last night before Christmas Eve and cabs would be like
hen's teeth. She idly noticed Skinner turn his vehicle onto the road.
He spotted Scully and pulled over.
"Agent Scully?" He called from the window, "I just called your office
a few moment's ago, can I give you a lift, I'd like to talk to you
for a few minutes?" 
Scully gratefully stepped in, fastened her seat belt and turned her
head, frowning slightly as she tried to clear her muzzy brain to
concentrate. "Yes Sir?"
"Agent Scully, I've had a request passed to me through diplomatic
channels regarding a matter about which I believe agent Mulder may
have already been contacted."
Just this once, Scully wished Skinner could edit his speech to
marginally less convoluted.
"You mean Dale Forrester"
"Lord Forrester, yes. I understand the professor roomed with Mulder."
"At Oxford." Scully added.
"You have met, good, I knew he was in up at forensics but wasn't sure
if he had contacted Mulder yet. I've been trying to locate Agent
Mulder but his phone seems to be off. Yours too."
Scully raised her eyebrows in surprise and reached for her cell
phone. She pulled her lips to one side wondering why she had not seen
the battery warning. 
Skinner glanced across at the red light. Scully caught his eye but he
remained as inscrutable and aloof as ever. 
"Agent Scully, can I take it that Mulder will be attending the
Ambassador's reception this evening?"
"Yes Sir, Dale invited us." Scully was wondering if protocol demanded
she call him Lord or Professor. He had asked her to call him Dale but
she mentally shrugged that informality off when Skinner raised his
eyebrows.
"Agent Scully, I'd like to make it clear from the outset that I have
no intention or desire to take you away from DC over Christmas.
Mulder will have all the resources of Scotland Yard to fall back on,
including forensics experts."
"Are you saying that you don't want me on this assignment, Sir?" Her
tone could not be defined as bristly, but wasn't far from it.
Skinner breathed deeply before replying. The connection between these
two agents went far beyond anything he had ever seen or experienced.
Theirs was a synergous relationship of philosophical opposites that
he could not begin to explain, although he'd been required to, on
countless occasions by his peers and superiors. Their loyalty to one
another surpassed any agency pairing he had ever witnessed. He was
almost waiting for the day when one of them revealed they
communicated telepathically, yet he was equally certain they had not
broken protocol to become sexually involved. He sometimes wondered
why not, it wasn't as if they hadn't broken just about every other
rule in the manual. Attempts to separate them, to destroy the X-files
had driven them even closer.
"I can assure you this is not some nefarious attempt to separate or
discredit you or agent Mulder. Sometimes, Agent Scully, a cigar is
just a cigar. You are long overdue for leave, it's Christmas and the
request was for Mulder. There was no insistence for Mulder alone,
it's just that I felt, under the circumstances, you might like to
give this one a miss. "
Scully smiled and looked down at her hands. Paranoia had become as
much a part of her life as breathing.
"Sir, can I ask what this case is about?"
"Two kidnapped U.S. citizens have just been found dead in Britain.
Because of the unusual circumstances, Lord Forrester suggested to
Scotland Yard that Agent Mulder's expertise might be beneficial. The
request also came via the State Department. Are you familiar with the
British parliamentary system?"
Scully shook her head no.
"I'm not really up on it myself but Forrester sits on the House of
Lords. We would have gone along with Scotland Yard's request,
Forrester simply cemented it by going through the correct State
Department channels."
"What's Forrester's connection with the crime?" 
"The bodies were found on his Estate. I was made aware of his prior
friendship with Mulder and it seemed appropriate that he be
assigned." 
=A0
Scully was definitely going to run a blood check on herself. Someone
using the right channels had requested Mulder and received the FBI's
blessing to run a legitimate case, although whether it proved an
X-file remained to be seen. She really could give this one a miss and
enjoy Christmas alone. 
Great. 
Her mother had finally splurged on a cruise and her brothers were
stationed away from DC. They'd gotten together for Thanksgiving
instead. And friends? Everyone had set their plans, plans that had
included an invitation to Scully, which she politely refused knowing
something or someone would come up with a way to ruin them.
Not that she considered it exactly ruining them. Let's be honest,
Dana Scully, you follow Mulder on his insane crusades because you're
damned well fascinated by them.
Still, just once, it would be nice to enjoy a normal Christmas. She
could always call Ellen and spend the day with her best friend and
Godson. That would be a nice.
Nice.
Unusual circumstances, hm. At least she could find out what it was
about. That couldn't do any harm.
"Sir, If you have no objections, Forrester asked me to attend this
evening and I am curious." 
Skinner rolled his head in agreement. "Fine, I just felt it would be
an opportunity for you to take a little time for yourself. You can
make a decision after the briefing. I'll have the background
paperwork ready tonight." He motioned to a file protruding from in
his briefcase.
=A0
Scully showered, then considered her wardrobe. She possessed so few
formal evening gowns the choice was pretty limited. Still, she mused,
it was not as if they were ever worn much. Her mind kept throwing out
images of Mulder's wedding ring and Diana, but she pushed them aside
like pieces of an annoying jigsaw puzzle, knowing they would fit
together....almost seeing a twisted logical pattern....
Scully opened her jewelry box and removed a pair of mismatched ruby
and gold earrings. One hung only a half inch on her left lobe while
the other, identical in design, hung a good three inches below the
first. Scully had never worn them. Despite their unique and frankly
stunning design, she had disliked their imbalance. They had been
Melissa's and tonight, Scully would wear them not simply because they
matched the contrasting dark burgundy sleeves of her midnight blue
satin dress, but because the odd earrings lent a counterweight to the
afternoon's revelations.
Tonight, she was going out to an Ambassadorial Christmas party where
a rather attractive stranger would be in attendance. And for once,
she could dress as a woman, not a
take-me-seriously-I'm-not-a-woman-I'm-an-FBI-person, in what was
still an essentially male dominated fraternity. 
That was one thing about Mulder, she conceded, he treated her as an
equal. He was often gracious, displaying the unconscious gestures of
a gentleman raised to respect women. And he could be frustratingly
overprotective. Yet she could never recall him being chauvinistic. To
be sure his teasing double entendres were overtly sexual at times,
but that was a manifestation of his sharp, often wicked sense of
humor. 
Wasn't it.
In defense, she occasionally floored him by giving as good as she
got. 
Scully sighed, despite herself, she even understood Mulder's frequent
desertions. They were either to protect his partner and friend from
the consequences of his own personal demons, or a backhanded
compliment in his confidence that she could take care of herself. Or,
truth to tell, because he would not allow her to reign him in from
doing what he damned well pleased.
Still, Scully refused to admit that a part of her careful
ministration to her hair (up) and make up (down and to one side to
cover that scar) were to show Mulder than sometimes, just
occasionally, she could be a woman, not simply his female, albeit
equal partner. 
Freud could have done a lot with her that night, if she had let him
into the front door of her mind.
=A0
=A0
Mulder berated his stupidity all the way to his apartment that
evening. Goddammit why in hell hadn't he told her about his marriage
to Diana? Jesus it wasn't as if it was for long. It was a stupid,
pubescent mistake. He should have told Scully about Diana. He should
have explained why he trusted Diana. 
He should have told Scully a great many things. But the more the two
woman came into contact with each other, the more Mulder thought it
was better to leave sleeping dogs lie. Especially when Scully turned
into a rabid bitch every time Diana came within fifty feet.
Could she be jealous?
Yeah, right Mulder, jealous. Every time he'd come near to
overstepping those bounds she had gently but firmly made it clear
such attentions, although inoffensive, were not desired. That Scully
loved him, he had no doubt, but she very wisely restricted that to
their platonic partnership, their friendship.
God how often had he nearly overstepped that mark? How often he'd
come close to misinterpreting her affection, her trust, her love and
let his hormones try and drag their incredible relationship into
something as base as mere sex? She gave him everything and all he
gave her in return was grief. 
Bill Scully had the rights of it. He was one sorry son of a bitch.
Mulder sighed to himself as he stood, eyes closed, under the shower.
But Jesus she looked good in a shower. Especially when she was
furious.
Mulder's mind wandered to the Christmas present he'd purchased that
morning. He'd toyed with the idea for days, wondering if it was all
wrong but maybe, just maybe it would serve at least in part as an
apology for not telling her about Diana.
Christ Mulder, don't be so fucking pitiful. Scully didn't need such a
callow device to be placated. Scully was....Scully. She would always
be there. His partner understood enough of the complex emotional
baggage he carried with him to also understand this, too. And take
pity on his sorry son of a bitch soul to forgive him yet again. 
He had long since become dependent on Scully's tight grasp of the
normal world. Like an insane kite in a hurricane, he depended on her
sanity to anchor him while he freely embraced the titanic winds of
extreme possibilities. Sometimes he deliberately cast himself adrift,
but Scully always came to save him from himself.
He couldn't blame Dale for mentioning the marriage. It had become
meaningless ancient history. He couldn't even recall the last time
he'd thought about it. But its' legacy was an unswerving belief that
Diana could be trusted. The closeness forged and more importantly the
drift apart had left him with that, if nothing else. Scully deserved
an explanation but not tonight. He needed to talk with her alone. It
had waited this long, it could wait for now. 
Mulder left is apartment more resolute than ever to let Scully have
this one Christmas free from his unique brand of insanity. Whatever
Dale had up his sleeve could wait a few days.
=A0
Since A.D. Skinner had to drive right by her place, he'd offered to
pick Scully up just before eight. The Ambassador's residence was only
a few blocks south. He pulled up just as Scully stepped from her
building. A light dusting of snow promised a heavier fall later in
the evening. Skinner's eyebrows lifted and Scully actually caught a
ghost of a smile as she settled into the car. 
"Agent Scully, I have to say you look.." he hesitated, then rephrased
to a more politically correct "..dressed appropriately this evening."
"Thank you sir. It's been a while since I've attended an
ambassadorial function."
Skinner did not reply as they turned the corners slowly. The road was
getting icier by the minute. "I've already signed approvals for
flights to London tomorrow and whatever other travel arrangements
need to be made." Skinner motioned to a sealed documents case beside
him "There's a ticket at the service counter for you, but I'd like to
reiterate you are under no obligation to go along. My advise to you
Agent Scully is, take a break while you can."
Scully smiled to herself. Skinner was as enigmatic and mercurial as
Mulder at times, but she appreciated his concern. Maybe he was right.
She was just curious, that's all.
As they drove into the British Ambassador's residence it suddenly
struck Scully that if the FBI's Christmas present to Mulder was an
approved case with no arguments over travel expenses, then maybe her
Christmas to him should be her absence. For once he could pursue his
wild theories without her grounding his flights of fancy into reality.


CHAPTER 4
BRITISH AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE
WASHINGTON D.C.
"Ah, I'm so pleased you came Dana!" Forrester smiled as he met them
at the entrance. One of the menservants had taken Scully's coat. The
Ambassador's Residence was as warm inside as Scully expected and she
was glad of her choice in evening wear. Forrester beamed at her
satiny beauty. "Why you look most lovely! I must take Fox to task for
not being more descriptive in his emails. I might have crossed the
Atlantic much sooner had I known." His hand barely touched the lower
half of her back in a familiar gesture as he led Scully into the
reception room. 
It took Scully a few moments to realise that the hand was not Mulders.
=A0
Skinner was shaking hands with a Senator and nodded recognition as
Mulder arrived almost directly behind them. Mulder handed his coat to
a manservant and followed the direction of Skinner's frankly
appraising eyes. Forrester was walking beside a woman with an
extraordinarily beautiful pearly white back. Exposed by a plunging
midnight blue satin dress, her delicately arched spine tapered to a
finely rendered waste and beautifully rounded hips that mesmerised
Mulder. When Forrester's hand moved slightly, Mulder caught sight of
an exquisite tattoo. He blinked out of his reverie as Forrester
glanced behind and caught sight of him. 
Forrester turned back "Ah, welcome my good Sherlock!"
The woman turned and the rest of her body and profile proved
equally....
"Scully?" 
Without permission, his face grinned in surprised delight.
"Shylock." She smiled sweetly and allowed Forrester to turn her back
into the room, ignoring the almost audible snap as Mulder's jaw
climbed back up from the floor to join the rest of his face. 
Mulder mentally grimaced but recovered his composure quickly. He
deserved all that was coming, but just at this moment in time, he
could see no reason not to admire her exquisite beauty. Mulder had
seen Scully naked on occasion, in situations he would sooner forget,
but in this context....no, he could not recall seeing her like this
before. And his eyes would catalogue and store this particular memory
to be unwrapped and enjoyed on future lonely nights.
=A0
Forrester led them into the reception area, collecting eggnogs from a
waiter. Scully sipped, enjoying the fine, thick taste. Mulder, except
for a rare binge, was not big on alcohol. He carried the glass
untouched and deposited it on the nearest table as they wound their
way through the already crowded room. Blind to the frankly admiring
appraisals of the women he passed, Mulder was amused and rather
pleased that Scully turned heads, both male and female. But as he
entered the library, all his musings vanished, ready to focus on the
business at hand.
=A0
Forrester motioned for them to sit in the plush armchairs facing a
blazing fire. Mulder, choosing to stand by the mantelpiece,
remembered a time when even a small fire like this was disturbing. He
had faced those demons and overcome them. Forrester had introduced
him to Phoebe, Mulder wondered idly what other demons his friend was
about to unleash this time.
=A0
Skinner entered the room in conversation with a short, stocky, red
faced man whom Mulder recognised as the British Ambassador. A
tuxedoed security guard closed the door on the five of them and
Mulder briefly wondered why the Ambassador needed guarding in his own
home? Clearly, it was not so much the people, as the discussion that
required protection. 
=A0
Introductions completed, Forrester began. "Firstly, thank you for
coming on such short notice." Forrester's demeanor changed from
casual boyishness to complete seriousness. Scully, like Mulder, gave
him her full attention. The beautiful woman in the satin evening gown
easily lapsed into the more familiar role of investigator. 
"I trust it is a given that this discussion remains in this room."
Forrester pulled a sealed plastic bag from his pocket and handed it
to Scully as he spoke "As you are aware, in 1997 British scientists
at the Roslin Institute in Scotland cloned a sheep named Dolly. That
event shook the medical world to its very foundations. One day,
cloning was the realm of imaginative science fiction writers and the
next, an accepted reality."
Scully glanced at Mulder a little uncomfortably. At one time she had
not accepted Mulder's insistence that his sister and possibly
numerous other clones were being used in some kind of vast
conspiracy. A conspiracy, yes; genetic testing and manipulation, no
doubt; horrendous experimental discards, like her daughter, all fact.
But cloning, no, not possible - until Dolly was revealed to the
world. Forrester was correct, the revelation had shocked her. It had
even started her thinking that Mulder may not always be as far out as
he seemed. 
Mulder, the skeptic replied "I understood there was later some
question as to the validity of the results. That Dolly may in fact
have been pregnant when the cells were harvested."
"Quite so, but also quite untrue. That information was released by
researchers who left the original team and were unable to replicate
the procedure for their new benefactors. The identical process has
since been replicated successfully with rats."
Mulder nodded in acceptance.
"Despite the hysteric conclusion that humans would soon be cloned en
masse, the results of the procedure have proven to be a profound
springboard for many areas of research, from genetically identical
rats for controlled experiments to...well... I'm going to ask you to
shelve any moral indignation you may feel about cloning and take you
a step back into the techniques used." He smiled in self depreciation
"I would rather not bore you with a lecture, so I'm going to ask
Agent Scully if she might elaborate because I have no doubt, as a
medical doctor, you would have grasped the implications immediately."
Forrester directed his final words to Scully, curious to hear her
perspective.
Unfazed, Scully nodded "Tissue, organ and limb regeneration,"
Forrester nodded for her to go on. "In the first stages of a normal
reproductive cycle after fertilisation, cells divide and multiply
into an undifferentiated blastoplast - a ball of reproducing cells. A
combination of factors, hormonal and genetic, soon intercedes,
dictating that the cells differentiate in an ordered pattern into
specialty cells. Some become blood, bones, muscle tissue and so on.
It was always thought of as a linear, irreversible order, the
resultant being a complete, viable organism. Once a cell had become
part of an udder, for example it had, in a biological sense, burned
its bridges. It could not retro develop and thence be redirected to
reproduce itself and become, say, a liver cell."
Forrester nodded his thanks and added "But cloning proved that the
developmental bridges could be rebuilt. The intent was not to produce
a thousand Bill Clinton look alikes," his audience chuckled. "Nor for
neo-Nazists to restore a thousand Hitlers. The true magic of cloning
resides in the ability to force an adult cell to rethink its' place
in the whole. If you can draw an udder cell and reproduce and
entirely new creature, could you not reproduce just a part of that
creature? A lung, a liver, a severed limb or broke spinal column? "
"Like a salamander or a frog." Mulder interjected. He glanced at
Scully, they had been down similar roads before.
Forrester moved his head in a half motion "Somewhat, but on a far
more fundamental level. Imagine the benefits to medicine, to mankind,
if we could learn how to re-grow damaged tissue. And to take it to
the next level, to re-grow aging tissue, not from an outside donor,
but from the cells of our own bodies? The implications are
staggering. Make no mistake, Fox, this is very real technology, it is
not science fiction. The moralist may decry that potential damaging
applications far outweigh the benefits. I consider myself to be an
ethical man and I must beg to differ."
The Ambassador shifted in his seat and Forrester realised he was
falling into lecture mode. "If you are skeptical Fox, I dare say your
partner can enlighten you with the facts."
Mulder glanced at Scully who simply lifted an amused eyebrow.
"I wanted to establish that cloning is a viable procedure, as a
prelude to asking for your assistance. Dana can you hold up the bag I
gave you earlier?"
Scully lifted it into the light.
"It contains, " Forrester continued "A piece of femur from a
prehistoric creature called a Plesiosaur. 
"The Loch Ness monster." Mulder quipped.
Scully did everything in her power not to groan.
"Yes," Chuckled Forrester, "The supposed Loch Ness Monster, but I
know that even you would not go chasing after such fantasies without
solid evidence."
Scully sent an expressionless look to Mulder.
"Except this bone...." Forrester continued "Is indicative that such a
creature might still exist. You see, it was carbon dated, numerous
times I might add, at 150ya, plus or minus 10 years."
Forrester allowed his audience to digest that information and the
Ambassador spoke for the first time. "I agreed to be here to lend
credence to this background information. The skeletons, I have been
assured by numerous paleontologists, are quite genuine, although the
dating....well that's another matter. It was found in a meadow not
far from Loch Meade during a search by Scotland Yard for, um, missing
persons." The Ambassador nodded for Forrester to continue.
"The remains of these missing persons were recovered with the bones
of the dinosaurs. That was five months ago. Since then, more missing
persons have been found within a seven mile radius of the Loch,
although no further plesiosaur bones have been located.
"Due to the odd concurrence of the plesiosaur and human bones,
potassium argon as well as carbon dating was attempted, but the
results were senseless. The physical condition of the bones, calcium
content and brittleness was simply too....similar and modern...to
make any sense. The final C14 results indicated that the initial sets
of bones, both human and dinosaur died at around the same time,
approximately 150ya. However the physical properties of the bones
indicate they all died far more recently that two centuries ago. The
other human bones have been dated from 400 to 700 ya."
"But didn't you say these were missing persons?" Scully asked,
frowning.
"Quite. The physical evidence, the porosity, tensile strength and
calcium content lend credence to a far more recent death. Perhaps
only a few months. As you may know, C dating is unreliable when
tissue samples are expose to modern post mortem radiation. Our
changing atmospheric radioactivity level since the industrial
revolution and the reverse, the atmospheric nuclear explosions, has
skued the results so that C dating of modern samples is somewhat more
difficult. 
"Following this discrepancy, all remains were tested again and again
and three more occasions in different labs around the world. We
managed to hurry up the process - it can take up to 12 months to get
results - and all the C14 dates were consistent. Now Scotland Yard
has disregarded the C14 dates as being an ambiguity. The problem to
the paleontologists, whom you might understand are rather desperate
to prove the real age of the plesiosaur, is nothing to do with your
involvement. However I'm telling you because it is part of
the....unusual aspects of the situation.
"DNA tests were run on all samples of the human remains, then later
on the plesiosaur's - oh, did I mention there were eight individual
plesiosaur's found at the first site?. Anyway, that's where it began
to get interesting. All the plesiosaur bones were genetically
identical."
"Siblings?" Scully asked.
"Jurassic Park?" Mulder quipped at the same time.
"We presumed your conclusion to be correct, Dana," Forrester grinned
at Mulder "Though spontaneous regeneration gets you an A for
imagination, Fox, until genetic tests were run on all of the human
remains. The finds were very disturbing. Of the fifty three skeletons
found at the first site, there appeared to be only ten unique DNA
patterns. The remainder were genetically identical individuals to the
ten. 
"None of these missing persons had identical twin brothers or
sisters. Scotland Yard scrutinised sealed records for the possibility
that siblings had been adopted out. Understand that the genetic
similarities were not simply close, they were doppelgangers, five to
six for each individual, mixed amongst the remains of the plesiosaur
bones. For all intents and purposes the humans and the plesiosaurs
appear to be clones."
Mulder interrupted. "You said these human remains were from missing
persons."
"I'm getting there Fox, just bear with me a moment longer. You are
aware of course that Americans are not the only ones who believe they
have been abducted by UFO's. We British also have our fair share of
so called abductees. All of the missing persons had claimed to at
least two prior experiences of alien abductions. And all of the
remains were found in an area close to concentrated UFO sightings the
prior evening."
Mulder took a deep breath, glanced at Scully and sat down.
Exasperation washed over Scully. Hadn't they had enough of this? It
was over! The consortium was dead! Skinner was right. She was
definitely going to let this one pass.
The Ambassador stood and straightened his suit. "At this point my
opinion as to what might have occurred ceases. It is not my position
to speculate on such matters, however as the latest find uncovered
two United States citizens, Scotland Yard and the Foreign Office
agreed that U.S. Federal law enforcement agencies should be involved,
especially as kidnapping seems to have occurred. 
"Frankly, I think Scotland Yard would be most grateful to hand the
entire mess over to someone with more....expertise in this field." 
The Ambassador smiled and shook each of their hands "It was a
pleasure to meet you and I do hope you will be able to stay on for
supper. I can arrange to have you served in here so you may discuss
the matter further."
"Thank you Ambassador, unfortunately I'm due at another function in
an hour, however Agent Mulder?" Skinner replied.
The Ambassador smiled as Mulder nodded his acceptance. 
"Agent Scully would you like a ride home?"
Mulder blinked, his resolve to leave Scully out of this long since
forgotten. But one look at his partner and he realised she was going
to walk away.
Skinner glanced at Mulder and said "As you will have Scotland Yard's
full resources, I've given Agent Scully time off over Christmas. I
think it's about due." Skinner's steely 'don't even think about
disagreeing with me' look squashed Mulder's rejoinder. 
But Forrester had already taken her by the elbow and asked "I do hope
you will stay," Scully looked into his warm eyes and felt herself
slipping "Because I would very much like to dance with you after
dinner." 
Mulder's chameleon eyes whirled, silently thanking Dale for his
invariably irresistible charm. 
When the Ambassador and Skinner left, Forrester spoke "Oh and I've
saved the most intriguing for last. The U.S. citizens whom we found?
They were but part of a collection, however there's were the only
bodies not fully decomposed, in fact hardly touched. I.D. was even
found on them. That was on Monday 20th."
"Passports?" Scully asked, then kicked herself for showing interest.
"Oh no, just driver's licenses. You see they were reported missing
from a campsite near Seattle, on Sunday evening. Sunday the 19th.
=A0


CHAPTER 5
BRITISH AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE
WASHINGTON D.C.
Over an excellent dinner Forrester regaled Scully with anecdotes from
their years at Oxford. Most of his tales involved campus pranks. His
friend Fox had apparently many devious ways and means to foil their
erstwhile pursuers, thus saving Forrester from prosecution.
"I tell you my dear, without Fox I would have been expelled a dozen
times. Of course he had to have some redeeming qualities as a room
mate because tidiness was not one!
Mulder smiled indulgently "I always knew where to find a clean tie."
"Yes of course you did, in my wardrobe! Although I must admit to a
certain fascination as to how you managed to dress so well. In fact
you still seem to have that knack and I doubt your slovenly habits
have changed, if one considers your office! How do you do it?"
"Natural talent." Mulder was well pleased to see Forrester. Pleased
to recall what were in many ways, happier times. His childhood had
been lost with Samantha, but he had come to accept his helplessness
and guilt as a disabled person accepts a physical limitation.
Forrester had taught him how to laugh again.
=A0
"So, what do you really think of our Nessy story?" Forrester finally
asked after dessert had been cleared and coffee sat before them.
Scully's face took on a vaguely sad demeanor. Forrester, obviously
charmed by her, noticed immediately "Oh my dear lady, whatever is the
matter?"
"The last one ate her dog," Mulder replied, oddly pleased at
Forrester's attentiveness. He also found it faintly amusing how
easily Scully could be charmed.
Forrester was clearly taken back by Mulder's statement.
Scully threw her partner a look. "It was a crocodile." She sighed
resignedly, then after a pause, "His name was Queequeg."
Forrester blinked, "The crocodile?"
Mulder, who had disliked the hairy rat sized Pomeranian on sight,
burst out laughing "The dog."
"Oh," Forrester frowned in confusion, "Fox you really must be a bit
clearer in your emails. Still, we'll have plenty of time to catch up
over the next few days. Now, you are both going to be guest in my
Castle," he whispered into Scully's ear "It's haunted, you know.
Nothing like Christmas in a haunted castle!"
Scully put down her dessert spoon and glared at Mulder. "I'm sorry
Mulder, I'm not going."
The expression of hurt innocence on his friend's face was not lost on
Forrester.
"Oh, my dearest Dana, I must humbly apologise for ruining your
Christmas, you can't blame Fox for this. It is entirely my fault, you
may shoot me if you like!"
"She's better at shooting me." Mulder quipped.
"Mulder I never shot you, you shot me first." Scully replied softly,
but just a little indignantly.
"I did not shoot you first. I did not shoot you at all. I have never
shot you. You, however, have shot me."
"Mulder that was entirely different." Scully said a little more
forcefully.
"Children, children would you stop squabbling!" Forrester put his
hands up. "I have never before felt so much like I keep putting my
foot in my mouth." He muttered to himself, but then he peered
anxiously at Mulder and asked "Did she really shoot you?"
Mulder nodded, "Scar proves it. And lest you forget, Scully's a
doctor."
Forrester stiffened a fraction, but then grinned. "Ah, but not a
practicing one, and given the number of times I could cheerfully have
shot you myself, I can only empathise."
"C'mon Scully, it'll be fun!" Mulder had completely forgotten his
promise to himself. He began pulling up memories of Christmas at Loch
Meade and turned on his small boy enthusiasm. It had hooked her
before.
It always did she inwardly sighed. But just this once, Scully wanted
to stand her ground. "Mulder, I am not going. I mean it, I agreed to
spend Christmas with Ellen and...."
"You told me you didn't have any plans for Christmas." Mulder shot
back.
Forrester instantly acted on this snippet in a long practiced
maneuver to lure girls to their parties. "Oh my dear you have never
had Christmas until you've had one in an English Castle."
Dammit, thought Scully, those plesiosaurs must be fakes.
But what if they weren't?
"The log fires and carol singers, eggnogs to die for and plum pudding
to live for, giant Christmas trees in the library and..." Mulder
continued Forrester's verbal picture, cheerfully attacking Scully's
archilles heel.
"And sleigh rides and snow fights with the children and...."
Forrester added.
Both men's words surrounded the diminutive but stubborn redhead,
eroding her resistance. They grinned as they watched her crack.
Forrester added the final touch "Grace me with a dance and let me beg
your forgiveness for ruining Christmas. I promise to make up for it a
hundred fold, while you, Fox old chap can go out and be fawned by all
those lovely Washington socialites."
And with that, he held out has hand and swept Scully from the room.
=A0
Mulder stood for quite a while at the entrance to the ballroom, idly
watching the passing parade of the overdressed Washington set. He did
not feel out of place, such parties had been an integral part of his
life even after Samantha disappeared. They served to remind him, as
he fobbed off the attentions of two stunning she sharks, of why he
did not bother to socialise much. Eventually, his eyes found
Forrester and Scully dancing and he smiled a little sadly. They made
an attractive couple, he thought.
It was an odd sensation watching her with Dale. Forrester was a
genuinely good man with nothing less than a brilliant intellect. As a
student Dale had a knack for charming a whole bevy of leggy
undergrads into bed. Mulder knew that nothing had changed in his
taste for attractive women. And Scully sure as hell fit into that
category, especially tonight. Age and maturity, perhaps even
adversity had made her even more beautiful, Mulder considered as he
watched the couple weave across the floor. Although it was rare to
see her smile, tonight her face was free from their daily horrors.
Tonight Dana Katherine Scully looked beautiful beyond words.
He'd never forget his first impression as she came to his basement
office all those years ago. It had greatly surprised him that someone
with such a keen intellect could be as attractive and fresh faced as
young Dana Katherine. The file photos had done her no justice. Mulder
had been flippant, but found himself being a little less mean hearted
than his usual arrogant self. And God alone knows why, she had
stayed, moved in and gently taken over his heart and soul. What a
contrast to the likes of Phoebe.
Of course Dale had been astute enough to avoid Phoebe. Oh, no, only
the sorry son of a bitch Mulder fell into that trap, he thought. And
Dale had helped him pick up some of the pieces and patch them back
into a semblance of order. If Scully needed male attention of a type
he could not give, then he was perversely pleased Forrester was
providing it. Mulder shook his head. Looking like that, Scully
deserved all the male attention she was getting.
=A0
Forrester saw Mulder approaching and stepped apart from Scully with a
grin on his face. Scully had caught her partner's casual approach.
Perhaps it was the eggnogs and wine, but it suddenly struck her there
was a raw sexuality to Mulder. His darkened eyes held her fixated in
an almost predatory manner, oblivious to the outright looks of lust
from women he brushed against as he crossed the dance floor.
Scully looked down and blinked. Too many eggnogs, Dana.
"Ah Fox, I shall allow you this only because you are my friend. I
would insist on the next dance but," he turned to Scully,
"Regrettably I have to fly out in a few hours, I have a few things to
attend in London before the Christmas weekend. However my man will
meet you at the airport tomorrow." With that he smiled, bowed and
kissed Scully's hand.
Like the Captain's daughter that she was, Scully accepted the gesture
with grace, then allowed Mulder to her to take her into his arms.
Mulder, Scully thought, was surprisingly good. This was only the
second occasion they had danced together and the first seemed like a
hazy dream. She caught the eyes of several women watching him and
bathed in the pleasure of having danced with what were without
argument the two most attractive men in the room. It was nice. For a
few minutes she allowed herself to relax in his arms, forgetting what
she was and that he was her partner. Forgetting the strictures that
such a relationship brought.
Mulder absorbed the smell of her perfume and the touch of her skin.
There could be no more between them than this. That was the unwritten
rule. For the second time that night he chided himself almost
succumbing to mere lust when what Scully offered transcended such
base needs. God alone knew if he had nothing more than this, he had
more than most men could ever dream, and for that he was grateful
beyond words.
"You look beautiful tonight, Scully." He whispered into her ear and
was pleased at her small smile. A compliment she well deserved, no
hidden agenda, no sub text, truly. But her closeness and her smell
and the soft curve of her lips and the feel of her body caught him
off guard. He turned his hips apart from hers in the natural movement
of the dance, hoping that if Scully had noticed, she would not be
offended. It crossed his mind that she had never been offended in the
past. But then he'd never been holding her like this in the past. He
put the thought aside. Scully was a doctor, nuff said.
Scully had forgotten how the normal act of close dancing allowed each
to feel the full form of the other's body. The proximity to Forrester
was a pleasant, inoffensive reminder. Such awareness of masculinity
was no different to occasional hugs with Mulder, no different from
wrestling with her brothers. This, however, was different for it was
a clear indication that the male in Mulder was not only present, but
operational. Almost before it had registered, she felt him casually
turn his hips and separate himself from her slightly. Yet in her
slightly egg nog haze, it struck her that she enjoyed detecting these
occasional erections.
Tight jeans watching sport, morning boxers, washing him when he was
sick, asleep sprawled out on a couch, a half dozen images fleetingly
recalled over the years. Two people could not spend as much time in
as close proximity as they did, without her noticing. Hell, if his
body did not elicit such reflex actions, as a Doctor she would have
been seriously concerned.
But this time he had been dancing with her.
Agent Scully wiped the eggnog from her consciousness. She was neither
offended nor did she read too much into it. It was a male hormonal
response to her as a woman, flattering but unintentional. And Mulder,
ever the gentleman, moved as graciously as possible to avoid offense.
She was pleased that on this occasion at least, it was most
definitely her that elicited this. But teasing was not, could not
ever be Scully's style. She waited until the end of the dance, then
gently pulled further back to speak. "I should be getting home
Mulder, it's getting late."
Releasing her from his embrace but still holding her hand, he leaned
close to reply "Did you bring your car?"
"No, Skinner gave me a lift."
"I'll drive you home Scully." Mulder kept her hand as they crossed
the dance floor and out to reception, releasing it only to assist her
with her overcoat.
=A0
Mulder took considerable care driving from the Ambassador's
residence. Snow fell lightly and they sat in comfortable silence
until Mulder said "I need you on this one Scully."
Scully sighed, not wanting this conversation "Mulder, I really need a
break. Scotland Yard forensics is every bit as good as ours. They
have excellent pathologists and I'm sure you'll have plenty of
assistance. Mulder how long were you married?"
He took a deep breath and felt his stomach lurch. "Where did you
learn to change gears like that?"
"From an expert. Mulder, I'm not going. How long were you married..."
The warmth and closeness of their dance evaporated.
"To Diana?" Scully added.
His testicles beat a fast retreat upwards, colliding with his
dropping stomach. Second time tonight, he thought. He couldn't reply
until his voice changed from Soprano.
"Look, I understand there are parts of your life that are private,
that have nothing to do with work or me but..."
He reached across and placed a hand on her thigh, just above her
knee. It was only a touch, just an affectionate gesture between
friends, a prelude to an apology, a request for understanding,
perhaps...but she stiffened in surprise. Mulder misinterpreted and
immediately brought his hand back to the steering wheel.
"Scully, this is not something I...I can explain in five minutes
but," he conceded as he held up his hand "An explanation is
warranted. Look, I'll talk about it on the plane tomorrow."
Scully sighed. "Mulder, I am not going."
"Christmas trees and snow, castles and fairies - did you know about
the fairies living in the bottom of the estate grounds? No? Well,
Dale will tell you all about it when...."
"Mulder," Scully said more forcefully, "I. Am. Not. Going. I'll see
you when you get back."
They had reached her building and he pulled over. Their eyes met a
moment then Scully smiled gently, ready once again to forgive him for
being himself, but equally determined to have time out.
"G'nite G woman." His darkened eyes looked tired and a little haunted.
"Goodnight Mulder, Merry Christmas."
He smiled and inclined his head in a silent return. The small box sat
forgotten in his coat pocket.

End part 1.

HUMAN AFFAIRS PART 2/7

CHAPTER 6
CHRISTMAS EVE
MID ATLANTIC FLIGHT 704 TO LONDON 
Mulder closed his eyes, enjoying the rich taste of the greasy bacon
and fried hash browns. Scully looked on disdainfully as she spooned
more fruit onto her cereal. Airline food was generally something to
be avoided, but she'd over slept. The consequent rush to the airport
had resulted in a sour feeling in her stomach. She idly wondered if
it was an incipient ulcer. 
Mulder said nothing as he handed Scully her ticket at the check in
counter, but his completely expressionless face irritated her.
"Shut up, Mulder."
They'd checked their arms with security and boarded the plane. For
once, the Bureau had dug into its pockets and placed them in business
class. Then reality set in as Scully realised economy was full.
"One morning Mulder, you're going wake up forty pounds overweight and
a triple coronary bypass scheduled for 10 am." But she envied his
hyperactive metabolism. Scully liked her sleep and could never keep
up with Mulder's predawn runs, so her diet reflected a more sedentary
lifestyle. The best she could manage was a swim two or three times
each week. Mulder frequently joined her, but Scully invariably left
long before he had even warmed up. Running, swimming or working, it
didn't matter, he was single minded and passionate about everything,
driving himself far beyond normal limits. Not for the first time
Scully sympathised with his mother. His
full-speed-ahead-and-damned-the-torpedos attitude to life must have
made him a holy terror as a child.
"Hey Scully, if you're not going to eat that, can I have it?"
Scully swapped dining trays with him "You are what you eat."
"Oh yeah Scully, that's me all right, fast, cheap and easy." He
leered at her wolfishly.
"Fast huh?"
"In the right context Scully, or I can be as slow as your little
heart desires." One day, he thought, one day he might just keep
pushing to see if he could get a blush. It had never happened yet,
but it was a lot of fun trying.
=A0
After breakfast was cleared they perused the background files on the
case. Eventually their discussion turned to the area where the
remains were found, the extensive Forrester Estate around Loch Meade.
"How long have you known Forrester?" Scully asked, hoping to jog
something of his past from him, perhaps even steering the
conversation to his marriage.
"Dale?" he chuckled, "Dale's old man decided that if his second son
was going to be an Oxford Don, a family tradition I might add, he
should begin from the ground up. He made Dale share digs with other
students right from his undergrad days. I really can't recall how we
ended up flatting together," Scully blinked at Mulder's oddly English
terminology "But they were some of the funniest years of my life."
Mulder smiled in fond memory. "I seriously considered staying on and
taking up a teaching position, but then Scotland Yard and the FBI
were working on a joint case. Their analysts were doing some
background research and I kinda got involved. It was fascinating, far
beyond anything I'd ever dealt with before."
"And you were good at it." Scully added softly.
"Yeah, yeah I was. And I liked it, so next thing you know I'm
shooting cardboard cut outs at Quantico." Mulder closed his eyes and
leaned back into the seat. "Y'know," he suddenly said "I never really
thought of myself as married."
Scully waited for him to look at her but he didn't. After a while she
realised he was telling the story to himself as much as her. Getting
him to open up about anything was a rare moment in her life with him,
so she sat unmoving, listening, trying to understand.
=A0
The wedding ring had sat on his finger just three months. As
graduates straight out of the Academy they had worked together and
quickly become lovers. It was a common occurrence, one Scully herself
had indulged in. But as time passed they had not seen it as a casual
affair. At least Mulder had not considered it casual at the time.
Samantha's loss left him with a perennial sense of guilt and
helplessness, evidenced by his generally self destructive personal
relationships. Because Diana was not destructive he thought of her as
special and he thought he was in love.
Although officially forbidden and replete with reprimands,
relationships between FBI agents were generally more stable than
those between agents and civilians. It was a common problem with law
enforcement agencies. If agents were married to other agents....well,
the divorce rate was lower. Of course maintaining a personal
relationship, be it marriage or otherwise strictly prohibited them
from working together, especially in the field. He was a
psychologist, he knew better than anyone the soundness of such
protocol. It was no different to any law enforcement or military
force, anywhere in the world. 
But he and Diana naturally discussed cases at home, each assisting
the other with insight and observations.
While creating an unofficial psychological profile for a case of
Diana's, they had inadvertently stumbled across the X-files. Their
contents intrigued him. When he was not melding himself into the
minds of violent murderers, he poured over the strange stories of
alien abductions and unexplained phenomena.
Diana saw the odd files as riddles and good late night reading when
Stephen King bored her. Mulder saw not questions, but roads to the
truth. Through obligatory self analysis at Oxford, Mulder had long
since fabricated protective walls, learning to live with the
emotional disability of Samantha's loss and his parents unvoiced
accusations. Despite his own problems, Mulder had an unparalleled
ability to plunge into the souls of psychotic killers and emerge
physically ragged and spiritually bruised, but essentially unscathed.
Scully herself had witnessed this terrifying ability. The X-files,
however, did what the criminally insane could not, they tore his
fragile psychological walls asunder with terrifying glimpses into the
truth. The truth about Samantha, about himself.
His obsession grew so that nothing else, including Diana, mattered.
Mulder began reliving past guilt, suffering profound mood swings and
horrific nightmares. On two consecutive nights his midnight hauntings
resulted in Diana physically knocked from the bed to the floor. By
the end of the month, she had gone not just from their bed, but from
his life.
Psychologist, analyze thyself. Mulder chuckled mirthlessly at the
memory. He recognised the symptoms; with the crumbling walls resurged
ancient guilts and self doubt. This made him unworthy of Diana's love
and so he had pushed her away. There had been no recriminations, no
bitterness, in fact he could recall only a few real spats. Diana, the
strong one, understood him and knew he could not be saved until he
found his answers. She had tried to help, tried to get him to seek
help, but he built higher and thicker walls, not to lock the guilt
and impotence over Samantha out, but to lock them in and Diana out,
to exclude everything but his quest. Mulder was grateful when Diana
left, grateful that the emotional burden of loving her had been
removed so that he could concentrate on finding his catharsis. 
Nothing else mattered.
=A0
In those days he was still the FBI's fair haired boy. It was quietly
suggested that the marriage be annulled, stricken from the record as
if it had never been. A cover up, Mulder shook his head in disgust. A
cover up he had sanctioned for the good of her career. He didn't care
about his own life, but Diana....he owed her that much. Just a small
lie, of no consequence, he told himself. Better for both of them if
it had never happened. But in time he learned that a lie must, by its
very nature, lead to other lies, other cover-ups.
Diana pursued her career while his mercuried downward into the FBI's
basement, his passion for the truth carried like a protective charm
he believed would one day free him from his personal demons.
Mulder sighed. At first Scully thought he slept, but he added "Diana
didn't leave, I pushed her away. Yet throughout she remained
supportive, defensive of me and my work. She never once betrayed my
mental state to her supervisor or the psychologists, knowing it might
result in suspension. I trust her Scully. I trust her judgment to do
what is right and necessary, but to also temper such decisions
without betraying me, even when it goes against the rules. Diana will
sacrifice a smaller issue in order to save a greater whole. I'm not
martyring myself when I say she made the best decision by leaving. I
was incapable of loving her, of anyone or anything. I believe if she
had stayed, her rationalising would have driven me to destroy us
both. This way, we parted as friends and I'll always consider her
that way."
=A0
A part of Scully felt kicked in the stomach. She had no way to
explain it, but it was like a betrayal after the event. She had
shared so much with Mulder these past years, they had become a world
unto themselves. Their work excluded not just outside personal
relationships, but other FBI agents as well. Somehow, somewhere along
the line, it all came down to Mulder and Scully. That Diana had been
part of his life in such an intimate way, and was still there, at the
edges, felt invasive to Scully.
Afraid of what that reaction told her about herself, she said
nothing. Scully herself was a past master at building walls, solid
brick walls signifying her total control over herself. Yet as angry
and yes, she admitted, hurt by what Mulder had revealed, if Diana had
appeared right now, she would have been hard pressed not to punch the
woman for leaving Mulder all those years ago. Scully herself would
never have left a man she supposedly loved to flounder in the ashes
of a damaged psych. 
Such powerful responsive emotions were not something Scully wished to
deal with, so she frowned and stared at her laptop, setting the walls
of professionalism around her like a protective blanket.
Scully mentally sighed. She owed Mulder some response, some
recognition that he had at least given her an explanation, yet all
she could think to say was "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I don't know. It never occurred to me. It was so long ago, a
mistake. Why didn't you tell me about Jack?"
"I did."
"Not until it became relevant to the situation, I mean it's not like
we've ever sat down over a glass of wine and regaled gory details of
past lovers. Or maybe you have, with Eddie, I just didn't think you
were into that sort of thing, Scully."
How could he be so totally wrong and so damned right at the same
time? Mulder had never, ever mentioned Eddie Van Blundht since the
night he had burst into her apartment. God, that was so like him, to
pick up on something and throw it into a conversation like a grenade,
just to see the effect.
Scully forced her face into impassivity and grabbed her reasoning
self together before replying somewhat stiffly "I think that Diana
became relevant to our situation, to the X-files, some time ago. I
think it would have been easier for me to understand why you trusted
her if you had told me this before."
Mulder shrugged and waved his hand in a vague apology, "Okay, maybe
you're right, but I didn't think it was relevant. It was a long time
ago."
Not for the first time, Scully wondered where the hell he'd parked
his doctorate in psychology to come up with a statement like that.
Mulder watched her, waiting for some further reaction, but she had
become Scully again, unfathomable, business like, her interest
focussed on the computer screen. He'd only glimpsed her soul on rare
occasions of vulnerability, the most intense when reading the journal
she had written during her cancer treatment. He mentally pulled in on
himself. His marriage was of no consequence, but the revelation might
now reduce the antagonism Scully felt for Diana. Then again, when it
came to women being women, despite his years at Oxford, he conceded
to being clueless. He had neither time nor emotions to invest in such
mental gymnastics, hence his VHS collection. Scully fulfilled his
other needs, without any of the clutter. Generally.
=A0
While Scully personally had no interest in the subject matter,
Mulder's unashamed enjoyment of porn had never bothered her. She
conceded it to his solitary existence. And truth to tell, that
somewhat adolescent predilection and understanding of male psychology
had saved lives and captured a murderer. Another woman might have
taken it as offensive, even suggestive but to Scully, Mulder's
flipping through one of his more sordid magazines in her presence was
indicative of their easygoing relationship. As friends and partners
they accepted one another, warts and all. As friends they forgave one
another transgressions that lovers could not. Scully felt hurt for
what he had kept from her, hurt because of all people it had been
Fowley, but she most definitely did not want to shake her conflicting
emotions apart and examine them outside the bounds of their
partnership, their friendship.
"D'you know" Mulder said quietly "As Freud lay dying, ravaged by the
advanced stages of syphilis, his last words were 'I shall never
understand women'?"
That elicited a small grin from her and he decided he was forgiven.

CHAPTER 7
LONDON 
CHRISTMAS EVE
Passport formalities were completed in short order. There had been no
problems with their weapons, which surprised Mulder. The Brits were
notoriously reticent allowing foreign law enforcement officers onto
their soil armed to the teeth. Then Scully was pleasantly surprised
to find that Forrester's chauffeur was a helicopter pilot. They would
fly directly from Heathrow to the north of England, to Dale's Castle,
bypassing busy London altogether.
"Don't worry Scully, I promise to take you to see the Crown Jewels
before we go home."
As much as she disliked flying, the low level, clear weather trip
through the heart of England had been a delightful voyage into a
fairyland world. Snow lightly blanketed much of the country. Thatched
houses stood quaintly specked in icing sugar. Patches of stark
forest, occasional species till bearing green coats, were all
peppered with clean white. Even the industrial heart was, for a rare
moment, almost free of smog and grime, a recent snowfall having
covered the normally dank ugliness. Finally, the helicopter began
spiraling down when Mulder felt Scully grab his arm. He looked across
at his partner and couldn't help grinning at her wide eyes. She gave
him a 'why didn't you tell me?' look and his eyes answered 'but I
did'. Mulder glanced down at the castle and warm memories flooded
back. Scully would like it here.
Once inside the castle, the main doors were closed to block the whomp
whomp of the helicopter. A butler took their overcoats "So nice to
see you again Master Mulder." Despite his formality, the man's eyes
expressed delight.
Mulder grinned and insisted on shaking his hand. "C'mon Jeeves, I'm
all grown up now, you can call me Mulder."
The Butler turned to Scully and welcomed her to Castle Lochmeade. "My
name is Hubert," he went on to introduce another five uniformed staff
lined up in the hallway, stating that over twenty full time servants
worked at the Castle and immediate grounds.
Scully felt a little overwhelmed by the grace and old English charm.
It was entirely different to D.C. even at its most formal.
"His Lordship is not yet back from the City, but he suggested you
might like to change before flying to the Loch. The helicopter and a
car will be at your disposal at all times. Would you be dining in, or
would you like a luncheon packed?"
Scully didn't need to look at her partner to know his response.
"Just a couple of sandwiches would be great, Jeeves, we want to get
going as soon as we've changed."
Hubert nodded and motioned they should follow Sally, one of the
upstairs maids. As they walked, Scully's eyes roamed over wall
hangings and tapestries, coats of arms, medieval armor and exquisite
furnishings. Everywhere, elegant, tasteful decorations reminded her
it was Christmas.
"Mulder, why didn't you tell me about this place?" She couldn't keep
a silly grin off her face.
"I hadn't given it much thought, it's been a long time." Scully knew
he was alluding to his marriage. Fair enough, she reasoned, he had
not shared this aspect of his life with her either. He had not hidden
it deliberately, it had just never come up before. It would take her
a while to digest his marriage to Diana Fowley, but she could no
longer be angry with him.
Diana, however, was another matter.
"Does Dale own the Castle?" Scully motioned around her.
The maid opened a door and gestured for them to enter. Mulder ushered
Scully before him with a hand gently on her lower back. "The castle,
much of the village, most of the land around the loch....I have no
idea how many acres beyond that. His father gifted a great deal of
the original holdings to local farmers, retaining only a propriety
interest. He was a keen old buzzard, when English aristocracy was all
but toppled by the Labor government tax laws in the sixties, Lord
Forrester invested heavily in fledgling American computer companies.
The old boy made enough to guarantee the future of his family and the
estates. Unfortunately, he and Dale's older brother were killed in a
yacht race while we were at Oxford. Dale accepted the title and
inheritance, but insisted on remaining an academic. He still sits in
the House of Lords, but spends most of his time at Oxford. The Castle
is really the entire family's home. It's likely that Helen, Alice,
Jennifer and James, his younger siblings will be here with their
families. I'm not sure, but I think there are about seven or eight
kids, too. I've never really kept up with who's married to who.
You'll like it, Scully. It's a big family Christmas gathering, very
traditional. I had a lot of fun here-."
Sully caught a slight wistfulness in Mulder's voice as he looked
around the elegant sitting room.
"Thank you Sally," she heard Mulder say in polite dismissal, oddly
comfortable with the presence of servants "We'll be fine now." The
girl bobbed a small curtesy and left, closing the door behind her.
"Well Scully, what do you think?" Mulder asked as he walked into
another room. Scully correctly presumed it was one of two bedrooms
"Better than our usual not so salubrious motels, huh?"
Scully blinked in surprise as she entered the door next to Mulder's.
Another maid was standing on the far side of an ornately canopied
bed, tucking Scully's underwear into a bedside dresser drawer. How
had her bags gotten from the helicopter to the room so fast? No one
had passed them in the hallway.
"Hello," Scully said, uncomfortable with a stranger handling her
things.
The maid turned and smiled, "Good afternoon Miss Scully. I've sent
some of your clothes to be ironed. I'll hang them when they return,
shouldn't be more than half and hour." The maid replied in a
friendly, matter of fact voice, "I understand you will be going up to
the loch, so I took the liberty of laying out some clothes."
Scully didn't know quite what to say so as she spotted her ski pants
and thick pullover on the bed. On the far side of the bed a large,
gray cat lay asleep. Returning to the sitting room she joined Mulder
by the fire.
"Mulder, it's magnificent!" She said as she rubbed her hands together
near the flames. They stood together in companionable silence until
the maids left, then went to their respective rooms to change. They
maintained a running conversation about the reports and
inconsistencies in the dating. An autopsy had not yet been done, the
bodies were still on ice in the local morgue.
"Why don't you go to the morgue now and see what you can find and
I'll go to the Loch?" Mulder said, coming into her room. He leaned
against the bed canopy as he spoke.
Scully sat on the ornate chest at the end of the bed. She was bending
over, lacing a hiking shoe when it suddenly occurred her that neither
of them had closed their bedroom doors. And Mulder had just breezed
in without checking if she were decent. Were they that familiar with
one another? She shook it off, yes, they were. That was not a bad
thing. Scully glanced up to see Mulder staring at the wall, a slight
frown as he concentrated on some stray thought.
"Fine," she replied, "I could live without an autopsy on Christmas
Day."
Scully decided to leave her ski pants and sweater on. Her suits were
missing, presumably being pressed and the morgue would be cold. "I'll
get a couple of things...." She had collected her lab coat but it
took her a few moments to locate the unopened box of latex gloves.
She probably wouldn't need them, but it also concerned her that her
spare gun was missing. Finally she located everything amongst her
underwear, in the top drawer of the bedside table.
"I wonder what the maid was thinking?" Scully mumbled, aware that
guns, particularly small hand guns were uncommon in this country.
They were not normally carried even by police.
"Where else would you keep the rubbers and a pistol?" Mulder's eyes
twinkled merrily "Don't worry about it, Scully, the servants are the
soul's of discretion, I know from experience."
Scully's eyebrows lifted questioningly but he just chuckled and
motioned for them to go.


CHAPTER 8
LOCH MEADE, NORTHERN ENGLAND 
CHRISTMAS EVE
"It's fortunate that all the bodies have been located on his
Lordship's land. The Gamekeeper is privy to what's been happening but
it's hard to keep walkers away. There's not much left to see, the
paleontologists team are finishing up. Christmas Eve and all."
Sergeant Bronin from the local constabulary met Mulder as the
helicopter landed. Bronin was annoyed at being called out, yet again.
Scotland Yard informed him of the FBI's involvement only an hour
before. What would a bloody yank know? The sergeant was frankly sick
to death of all the hoo ha in what was once a very quiet area to be
stationed. No drug problems, the odd slavering rapist or murderer
holed up in the woods, petty theft and so on, but this Nessy business
had seen his small station turned into a bloody lunatic asylum.
The Sergeant and a Scotland Yard Inspector, Walters, walked with
Mulder to the area where the original bodies and dinosaur bones had
been recovered. Mulder remembered the Loch as a place he and Dale and
had fished. Few people thought of England as still having truly wild
and desolate locations. Scotland perhaps, but not England. Despite
the warnings, especially in winter, foolish, ill-prepared walkers
frequently became lost in the craggy hills and forest surrounding the
series of lochs and waterways dividing England from Scotland.
Civilisation might not be too far away in any one direction, but that
had not prevented people from dying, Bronin explained to Mulder.
Nodding agreement Mulder replied "I've fished here, I know the area a
little."
Inspector Walters asked "Up here with his Lordship then?" And
Bronin's expression collapsed into resignation when Walters whispered
an aside to him, "Roomed together at Oxford."
Mulder nodded mutely then crouched on the ground at the edge of the
meadow and fingered the melting snow. "Tell me, Inspector, has anyone
checked the sites and surrounding areas for abnormal radiation
levels? Have any deep indentations or impressions or odd circular
marks been found near the locations of the bodies?" Mulder glanced
across the field to where a handful of people worked. Mulder could
see tables and instruments set up inside a large, open tent.
The Inspector smiled "You don't take the deceased's previous reports
of being run off in flying saucers seriously do you?
Mulder replied "I take seriously a commonality in each of these
events. Every victim was a repetitive abductee. Admittedly the
reports I have are summations and thus incomplete, but unless I am
mistaken, none of the victims became lost while walking in this area.
Which begs the question, how did they get here?"
Sergeant Bronin eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly "I understood
you were here only to investigate the deaths of two U.S. citizens."
Mulder mistook the sergeants' slightly aggravated tone for
territorialism. "Were not these U.S. citizens found with the remains
of the others? As the circumstances are almost identical, except for
the absence of plesiosaur bones at all but this first location, I
think it reasonable to extrapolate that the incidents are related."
Mulder turned to Inspector Walters "I would like copies of all the
original data in addition to unabridged reports, including
paleontological findings and lab analysis as soon as possible."
"I've been instructed to give you access to everything. It's all at
the station, on hard copy and discs, you can collect them once we've
finished here."
"Thank you. Now, what about radiation?"
"Not that I'm aware. We can ask Dr. Simmons who's heading up the
paleontological team. He's right over there."
Mulder stood and followed the Inspector and Sergeant to the dig.
Half a dozen patches of bare earth were cordoned off and one larger
rectangular patch with the remains of strings and small pegs in the
ground. Bundles of small, colored flags were stuck here and there,
large green bags zipped and labeled to one side. A flash from a
camera caught the corner of his eye.
It was a familiar sight to Mulder, the site of a crime scene where
every scrap of evidence was collected for forensic analysis. The
difference however was in the team. Most of them were young, some
bearded and a little scraggly looking. All looked serious and
enthusiastic.
Mulder tuned into scraps of conversation and learned that they were
anxious to finish up before the next snowfall. No mention of
Christmas, or an urgency to be somewhere else, just the need to
collect every scrap of evidence before nature set in.
After introductions, Dr. Simmons, the paleontologist said "Normally a
dig like this would take months, even years to complete, but the
bones were totally exposed. The Gamekeeper discovered them and he
touched nothing until the police came. We've already gone three feet
below the baseline, just in case something interesting popped up."
"And has it?"
"Surprisingly, no. It's as if they where dropped onto the earth from
a height of about a 50ft. The overgrowth would indicate they had only
been there for a couple of weeks, at most. It's almost as if someone
were emptying their garbage.
Mulder made no comment, recalling the initial photographs of the
scene.
Expecting no for an answer, Mulder asked, "Have you pieced together
the plesiosaurs yet?"
"Pretty well," Simmons nodded enthusiastically "Except for the fact
that our team has agreed not to publish until something conclusive
regarding age is found, it is the most exciting find in my life! I
mean, to get complete skeletons dropped in situ, with only a handful
of broken bones, is extraordinary. It was ridiculously easy
reconstructing them in stasis. We're already well on the way to
rebuilding one in 3D."
"Did you or any members of your team run background radiation checks
in the area?" Mulder said.
"Eh...no. Why?"
"The discrepancy in dating."
"Mr. Mulder, the way these dinosaurs were dropped, the overgrowth and
lack of..well..anything in the surrounding soil and substrate is
indicative that ambiguous dating exists at every level. One thing I
can say with certainly, these animals did not die here 150 years ago
or 150 million years ago, they were dropped within the last few
months. And when they fell, by the type and degree of damage to the
skeletal structure at the bottom, they were only recently dead and
fully fleshed out. I believe you will find the same conclusion with
the human remains."
Mulder looked back at the site, watching the intensity of the crew.
Not realising that he was even more driven than the men and women he
viewed, he fondly recalled being young and dedicated, working through
weekends and Christmas...Mulder caught Bronin's face. The Sergeant
looked bored and surly.
"Professor, can you do something for me?" The man looked on in
interest and Mulder continued "Can you have some of your students
check this entire area for radiation levels? Anything significant,
tell them to leave it alone, just mark it until we can get a proper
team in."
"What are you looking for, exactly?"
Mulder chewed at his bottom lip as he looked across the clearing then
back over the nearby loch, "I'm not sure yet."
=A0
Mulder, accompanied by the Inspector and Sergeant instructed the
pilot to land at every site. Mulder exited the machine and walked
around for twenty minutes or so, absently dropping a few sunflower
husks along the way. All the sites, including the most recent, were
devoid of activity. The only evidence of something were four wheel
drive tracks and excavation marks.
Having deduced the real reason for the man's surliness, Mulder called
to Bronin at the final site.
"Yes Sir," the man replied resignedly.
"Sergeant, although I'm certain you'd like to see this wrapped up as
soon as possible, there's not a great deal more I can do until I've
examined the reports." Mulder also wanted to do some research, but he
figured he could get most of it from the internet. "You should be
home in time for Christmas dinner." The sergeant's face visibly
brightened.
Mulder turned to the Inspector "Are you returning to London tonight?"
Walters nodded "There's really nothing more for us here. I'll have
the latest remains returned to London as well, if your associate is
finished."
Mulder glanced at his watch, it had been almost five hours, enough
time for Scully to have done at least one autopsy, but not likely
both.
"I don't think she'll have completed both, probably later tonight."
"Oh, you must not have been told, our forensic chappie decided to do
them on..."
A cell phone cheep interrupted him.
"Mulder."
"Hi, it's me." Scully sounded preoccupied.
"What have you found."
"Well, not a lot at this stage. An autopsy was performed on the
victims..."
"I thought they hadn't been touched yet?" Mulder glanced at Walters
who motioned that was what he was about to explain.
"They weren't going to, but the bodies began experiencing an
accelerated rate of decay and Scotland Yard's Chief pathologist made
the decision to autopsy while he still had something to work with.
I'm glad he did, Mulder...these bodies, they were recovered on Monday
but they've decayed like....like four or five weeks in hot, humid,
environment."
Mulder winced as his olfactory nerves reminded him what that smelled
like.
"I can almost see them degenerating before my eyes."
"Any obvious causes? We've seen accelerated decay before."
"There were no obvious chemicals or residues present, no
micchorizoids or fungal spores that I can locate, no signs of an
accelerant, but clearly that's what's at work here. I'm hoping for
something in the toxicological reports, a specific enzyme or
catalyst, or possibly both at work."
"No results yet?"
"Things have slowed down for Christmas, but Scotland Yard has
promised to email me what results they've completed. Dale had already
dropped samples to the lab in D.C.. They've sent it to Quantico and I
should have some results by Monday. "
"Scully, can you get a bone sample and have it sent to the lab for
C14 testing, and can you also run a cross spectrum radiation check?"
"What are you looking for?"
"I'm not sure yet, but I have an idea."
"Care to share?"
"I'll tell you when I see the radiation results, but I'm pretty sure
there's at least one red herring amongst this."
"Only one?"
Mulder smiled "I'll see you soon."
"Wait, Mulder? Dale's here at the hospital with me. He want's a word
with you."
Mulder felt an odd emotion pass through him, but he could not analyze
it.
"Fox?"
"Why didn't you pick summer to drag me out here? At least I could
have gotten in some fishing."
"Ah, my dear chap, you'll have to come back next season, I've finally
built that cabin at the end of the Loch! Now, before we go wandering
off the subject, I just wanted to let you know the helicopter will be
putting down in the village, not the castle."
Mulder went to interrupt, he had a lot of research to do but Dale
continued, "And you will be aboard! Without the helicopter you'd be
traipsing around there all week, so you are ahead of the game and can
therefore take a few hours off. I'm taking you and your delightful
partner for a drink at each of the local pubs before we go home. A
bit of a tradition, you remember.
Mulder laughed "Oh yeah, I remember...the first half!"
"Righto, but this time we shan't be that long, just a half pint here
and there, then home for supper."
Mulder's lips twitched, wondering how Scully would take this. His
guilt at dragging her away for Christmas had soon been replaced with
memories of Christmas at the Castle. Mulder was more than pleased to
see Dale, but it pleased him further that Scully would celebrate
Christmas in true, old English style. She hadn't said anything, she
never did, of course, but Mulder knew Scully needed the comforting
normalcy of a loving family at Christmas. Yet these last few years,
with the death of her father and sister, her cancer and the discovery
and death of her daughter, Christmas's had provided anything but
comfort.
"Okay, but half pints only...and no chasers!"

End part 2