Title: Nights of Shining Armor
Author: Gina Rain (ginarain@aol.com)
Rating: R 
Category: Casefile, MSR
Spoiler: Nothing specific. Takes place season 7-ish.
Summary: A tale of shared dreams, fractured fairy tales and great 
expectations gone awry. In short, Mulder and Scully investigate a 
serial kidnapping case.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. They belong to CC and Co.
Special thanks to: Sybil. In addition to having endless patience with 
my sentence fragments, dashes and ellipses, she also makes some damn 
fine catches. She's a great beta, my biggest cheerleader and keeps me 
excited about writing. That's a pretty big challenge she meets 
beautifully and, for that, I thank her very, very much.

Part 1 

XXXXX

Rescue me
Oh take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charms
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too
Come on and rescue me

(Rescue Me, Aretha Franklin)


XXXXX

August 19, 1999
Scarsdale, NY

To: Lawrence@tempetko.com
From: BronxBoy64@msq.com
Subject: Please say you will

Dear Jessie, 

I hope I’m reaching the right person. Actually, I’m pretty sure I am. 
Your aunt told me where you worked. In case you didn't notice, they sat 
me right next to the charming lady at Mike and Wanda's wedding 
reception. After that, it was a simple matter of bribing the right 
people to get your email address <vbg>. Actually, as you well know, you 
are listed in your company's on-line directory.

It was so good to see you that day, even though I spent far more time 
getting reacquainted with your aunt than you. But, that’s the way 
weddings go. You bridesmaids have to spend time with that pesky woman 
in white!

At the very least, I was happy I had the chance to say hello. And 
flattered you remembered me after all these years.  Time and tide waits 
for no man and the years have not been especially kind to me, but I 
found you just as lovely and fresh as the last time I had seen you even 
though two decades (gulp) have passed.

So, does this mean that I am after your obvious discovery of the 
Fountain of Youth? No. I'm afraid it's too late for me.  I merely would 
like to sincerely request the pleasure of your cyber-company. It’s been 
so easy to lose touch with our childhood buddies and I would very much 
like to catch up with someone from the “old neighborhood.” No one in my 
current circle of friends/acquaintances understands what it was like in 
the 60's when a neighborhood really was a collection of people who knew 
and liked each other. It would be nice to reminisce.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Your friend, 
Todd
	
After reading the strange email, Jessica closed her eyes and tried to 
remember Todd as a child. He was five years younger than she was and a 
cute, pudgy, shy kid. That was about all she could remember. The man 
she briefly met again at her cousin's wedding was a really big guy she 
never would have recognized if Wanda hadn't muttered his name to her as 
he was walking in their direction. 

She was probably 14 or 15 when his family moved. Her family stayed. Way 
too long. Way past the point of good sense.

Jessica shuddered a bit. The neighborhood had gone down so quickly. 
But, at one time, it had been wonderful. It truly had. And Todd had 
been a part of it all.

What was the harm in reminiscing, anyway?

To:BronxBoy64@msq.com
From: Lawrence@tempetco.com
Re: Please say you will…

Dear Todd:

Sure. I’d love to catch up on old times...

XXXXX

November 17, 1999
Hoover Building

The day after the first time they made love, Scully found herself 
staring at Mulder across the room. Those lips had been on her face, her 
eyes, her mouth. She tried to remember their exact texture, recall the 
exact pressure against her skin. She touched her own lips lightly. She 
would never quite view her body in exactly the same way. It was now a 
roadmap: this is where he kissed her first, this is where he touched 
her and she gasped, this is where he laid his head after they were 
done.

She hadn't realized she had closed her eyes until she opened them and 
found him staring at her with the smallest, shyest of smiles. There 
would be no smirking today. That much she knew. Loving Mulder, really 
loving Mulder, was going to be even more of an adventure than the one 
they had already been on. The man never did anything that meant 
something to him without total commitment. She'd be in for the ride of 
her life.

XXXXX

November 29, 1999
Hazelton, MO

Smoke.

The urge to laugh was almost overwhelming. It literally hurt when she 
swallowed the sound as it tried to escape from her throat, but she knew 
it was only a manifestation of the hysterical panic she felt. If she 
gave in, she was finished. 

Up until this moment, she would have sworn the worst thing that ever 
happened to her was waking up in this strange room as an obvious victim 
of kidnapping. Apparently, one should never make such definitive 
assertions. Fate tends to take them as a challenge and set the bar 
higher. She was now trapped in a fire with no means of escape. 
Kidnapping *and* being trapped in her worst nightmare was definitely 
worse than just a plain old abduction.

More and more smoke was coming in under the door, and she knew she had 
to stop thinking and start acting. She looked around the windowless 
room. The only furnishings were a single bed, and a night table 
containing a couple of gallons of bottled water and bags of assorted 
snack foods.

She knew she should touch the door. See how hot it felt. Maybe it had 
miraculously been unlocked since the last time she checked. She should 
check again. She should.

She should stop the rising panic and get up and do something but she 
wasn't sure if, as in her dreams, her feet could move.

She took a deep breath of thick smoke. The door wasn’t hot but it was 
still locked.

She returned to the other side of the room and took off the bedding. 
She wadded up the sheets and stuffed it under the door, as far as the 
tight space would allow. She pulled off the pillowcase and poured some 
water on it. She couldn't remember the rationale behind it, but felt it 
was the right thing to do.  She put it up to her face and lay flat on 
the floor in the furthest corner of the room.

Who was she kidding? At most, this would only buy her a few more 
moments of life.

A few more minutes.

"Our Father, 
Who art in heaven, 
Hallowed be Thy Name . . . "

The door burst open. A large man stood in the doorway. For a moment, he 
was a silhouette against the smoke-filled room. She didn't know whether 
to laugh or cry. Perhaps Fate had turned nastier and he was actually 
the kidnapper. Maybe he wanted the pleasure of killing her off himself.

He approached her and she brought her legs up in a fetal position.

He held out his hand. "Don't be scared. I'm going to get you out of 
here."

Something about his face reassured her. She knew he could save her. 

She took hold of the hand he offered, got to her feet and offered no 
resistance when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of 
her prison.

XXXXX

*Five months later*

April 7, 2000
Washington, DC
9:05 AM

Karen Noyes took the seat offered to her. She was nervous. It wasn’t 
every day that you sat in front of a bona fide FBI agent, or two. Agent 
Mulder was a good looking man who already seemed interested in what she 
might have to say. Agent Scully didn’t look disinterested but she 
didn’t have that rapt attention thing going for her that her male 
counterpart seemed to have. She was simply leaning against the edge of 
his large desk, waiting patiently. Karen took a deep breath, said a 
quick prayer that someone would believe her, and began.

“I live in the same apartment house as my best friend, Jessica 
Lawrence. She has been missing now for three days. She went to work, 
went to the gym afterwards and disappeared. Her pocketbook and gym bag 
were lying under her car. Nothing was taken, as far as we can tell—
money, credit cards—everything was in place. No one saw anything. And 
the authorities took down a report but no one seems overly concerned. 
Well, maybe I’m not being fair. They said they are investigating but no 
one seemed to want to listen to what I had to say. And I can’t say that 
anyone has been gathering evidence or whatever in Jessie’s apartment. I 
think they feel she just walked away from her life. But she wouldn’t do 
that and, really, do you walk away without money?”

“What led you to this office?” Agent Scully asked.

“I called the local FBI office a few times. They didn’t even seem to 
know about the case. I’m not sure what’s going on. Isn’t kidnapping FBI 
business?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, anyway, I finally reached someone who listened to what I had to 
say and he told me I might want to contact you. There are some elements 
of Jessie’s case that I think could help in tracking her down and they 
fall under the . . . paranormal? Is that the word?”

“The word to describe what, exactly?” Scully asked.

“Jessie’s psychic ability.”

“That would be the word,” Mulder said with a slight smile on his face.

Karen nodded. “Jessie . . . well, maybe psychic isn’t exactly right.  I 
mean, she can’t predict what lottery numbers will come out or anything. 
But she has these visions. Prophetic dreams, really. The only trouble 
is she has no way of knowing if what she’s actually experiencing is a 
dream or a vision. Does that make any sense?”

“Sometimes her dreams are just dreams and sometimes they seem to come 
true?” Mulder asked.

“Yes.  Exactly. And it’s only later—when some part of what she has 
dreamt has come true or suddenly makes sense when it didn’t before—it’s 
only then that she understands it was a vision.”

Mulder nodded.

“Anyway, she had disturbing dreams over the last few months. Very 
disturbing. On at least two occasions, she seemed to be having these 
nightmares that she knew were not her own. They were very detailed and 
real but she knew she was not the 'star' of them. She also knew she had 
heard about these dreams before but she had one secret detail that the 
original 'dreamers' did not. She knew they were kidnapping victims. It 
was like these women were kidnapped and forced to live out their worst 
recurring nightmare. One had nightmares of being caught in a fire with 
no way out, and the other had dreams of drowning.  

After a long internet search of recent kidnappings, she found two 
stories that had those elements in them. No one is listening to me when 
I try to tell them about Jessie and the dreams. I think they all think 
I’m nuts but I just needed to tell someone in case I’m right. I mean, 
in case Jessie was right and there is something in front of us we 
should be paying attention to.”

“You think she envisioned her own disappearance, as well?” Scully 
asked.

“I think it’s possible.”

Scully leaned forward, “Tell us more.”

XXXXX

12:38 PM

Scully clicked the “download now” button for the fourth time. Once 
again, the “select a program” icon appeared. She slapped her palm 
against the side of the keyboard.

“Mulder, this file won’t open.”

“You’ve been downloading it for the past fifteen minutes.”

“I know that,” she said with exaggerated patience. “The download is 
complete but it’s not opening.”

Mulder walked over to Scully’s desk and bent down to see her screen. 
She could smell his aftershave and almost feel the heat coming from his 
skin. The man had no concept of boundaries. It was one of the things 
she liked best about him.

“No offense, Scully, but two paper cups and a string would be more 
efficient at this point. We’re going to have to requisition a new 
computer for you.”

‘There’s nothing wrong with this one. It’s just a little slow.”

His right hand came over hers as it gently rested against the 
mechanical mouse. Her fingers involuntarily jumped at the feel of skin 
against skin. He moved his hand away.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Damn it. That wouldn't help things at all. In spite of expectations to 
the contrary, their relationship was not all smooth sailing.  She had 
been right about Mulder's level of commitment. If he was preoccupied 
with a case and expected it to detract attention from the two of them, 
he backed off completely.  After a few heavy-duty cases with no 
physical or emotional contact in between, she almost forgot what his 
lips felt like; how his body fit against hers.

“Just put your hand back, Mulder," she said, somewhat impatiently.

“Your wish is my command,” he said and covered her hand with his.

He guided her hand along the mouse pad, interrupting the movement with 
a few left and right clicks, pressing her own finger down against the 
plastic. She had never viewed a computer mouse as an erotic object 
before but having his hand cupped and in motion over hers suddenly 
elevated the status of the lowly rodent.

“Adobe has disappeared from your list of programs. You had it before, 
right?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Well, it’s not there now,” he clicked a few more times and the 
download began. “This should take another five or six hours. I’m going 
to print out the damned articles and you can read them the old 
fashioned way.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze before breaking 
contact.

Within moments, Mulder handed her a small stack of reprints. She 
skimmed them while her computer made grinding noises as it worked 
through its download. Perhaps it was time to order a new one.

XXXXX

Same day, undisclosed location


Jessica woke up slowly. At least, that’s what she thought she was 
doing. For all she knew, she could be continuing the mother of all 
nightmares. She looked around. It was the same setting it had been for 
the past few days. Perhaps she had died and gone to hell or, at least, 
purgatory.

She was in the upper level of a private house. That much, she could 
tell. At some point, there had been a fire. The walls were blackened; 
some were burned to the bare beams. The burnt odor mixed with those of 
mold and mildew. A lot of water had passed through this dwelling and a 
lot, apparently, had stayed in all its various cracks and crevices.

Jessie had tentatively explored the place. A new door had been 
installed recently; one that was not ravaged by fire. It was securely 
bolted and effectively cut her off from the lower level and, 
consequently, freedom. All the windows were boarded up from the 
outside. One or two had small gaps between the boards so she could tell 
if it was night or day, but that was about it.

There was no furniture anywhere. She was left with some bottles of 
water, boxes of Power Bars and a flashlight. There was toilet paper for 
the non-working toilet and antibacterial wipes for her hands. Basic 
needs cared for in a sub-basic way.

What a Prince.

Jessie was fairly sure it was a man who did this, although she never 
saw him. She had been putting her gym bag on the hood of the car when 
she smelled an almost overwhelmingly strong men’s cologne. She was 
about to turn around when she felt a stinging sensation on her neck. 
The next thing she remembered, she was waking up in the abandoned 
house, alone.

It was her worst nightmare come to life.

End of Part 1