"Call me Annabelle, please. I was closing one night, and when I was checking the lighthouse, I heard a noise. I called out asking if anyone was there, when there was no response I turned to leave. I was almost to the house when I heard it again. I looked up, and I could see the outline of a person up on the observation deck looking out toward the ocean. When I called up to him, his head titled in my direction and he disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Scully's voice held a note of disbelief, but she could tell Annabelle firmly believed what she saw what she claimed.

Nodding her head, she removed her glasses. "Yes, ma'am. It was a clear night, and I hardly even blinked once I saw someone up there. The light beam was on the far side approaching the side I was on, and he just disappeared."

Scully had been writing down some of what she had said, and asked "What made you believe it was Mr. McConnaughy?"

"At the time, it was the only thing I could think of. Later, after he was seen again, I was certain. There is a lot of history at this lighthouse, Agent Scully."

"Mrs. Crandall, Annabelle. Could you tell us something about the story behind Mr. McConnaughy?" He sat up straighter on the love seat, and waited for her response.

She smiled warmly, "Of course. He was the first keeper here after this lighthouse was built in the early 1870's. The house we're sitting in is not the original house that was built to service the lighthouse. That house was burned in 1875, only a year after the lighthouse was first lit. Gregory was in the house when it burned, and the body was never found. His wife and young son were in the town at the time. This structure was built on the same spot after the debris were cleared."

Lightning crackled outside the large window along the back wall as she finished speaking. "How many sightings have occurred?" Thunder rumbled in the distance over Mulder's words. "And how many did you yourself see?"

"Over the past few weeks Gregory has been seen six times. I was there for four of them. Two of those times I was alone, the other two either Sam or Mark Pearson, he's the head handyman. The fifth time Mark was alone, and the other time Sam was talking with two tourists."

Scully had taken brief notes, listing who had been present at each of the sightings. "Could you show us where each of them occurred?"

Standing, she responded, "No problem, Agent Scully. However, it's late and still storming. Why don't the two of you come back in the morning? These storms usually blow out after night fall."

Although Mulder looked ready to protest, Scully agreed with the idea. "You're right. We'll be back in the morning about nine? Will that work for you?"

"That will be fine." Leading them back out through the museum, both Scully and Mulder glanced over the exhibits that filled the rooms. Seeing a seaman's uniform, Scully felt an instant connection to both the sea and her father.

Annabelle walked with them through the gift shop to the front door, "See you in the morning."

Opening the umbrella, Mulder held it over both Scully and himself as they crossed the waterlogged gravel parking area. He unlocked the passenger side door, and continued to hold the umbrella over both of them until she was inside the car. Walking around behind the car, he closed the umbrella and climbed in the drivers side.

***

St. Augustine, Florida
Ponce de Leon Motor Lodge

The ride back in the car had been quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Mulder was considering what limited information Annabelle Crandall had given them thus far. There were several cases in the x-files that dealt with apparitions, but none of them were very detailed. He found himself compelled to believe what she had said, that Gregory McConnaughy now haunted the lighthouse and museum. What he wanted to know, was why.

Scully, for her part, was less inclined to blindly follow Annabelle Crandall's lead. She smiled to herself when she thought how it wasn't any different from how she and Mulder usually faced a case such as a haunting. It wasn't long before her thoughts drifted to a more personal topic. Being so close to the sea always made her feel closer to her father.

The rain had lightened somewhat by the time they arrived back at the motel. Mulder and Scully each entered their respective rooms, and Mulder soon crossed over into her room.

Dropping rather dramatically into a chair by the window, Mulder whined, "Dinner, Scully. Must eat." She looked over at him as she took off her shoes and noted he had already managed to shed his coat, suit jacket and tie in less that two minutes.

Standing, she walked over to a bedside table and pulled open the drawer. Reaching in for the phone book, she tossed it at Mulder. "Chinese or pizza. Your choice." Mulder caught the book in mid-flight and started flipping through the pages until he found the restaurant listings. "But no pepperoni, peppers and mushroom combinations." Her voice called out from the bathroom. "I can't handle another of your 'Shaft' renditions."

"Who's the man . . . " Mulder's singing filled the small room.

An annoyed laugh punctuated Scully's retort "Mulder . . . I have a hair dryer and I know how to use it!"

As she changed into some sweats and a tee shirt, she heard Mulder call in their order to a local Chinese restaurant. She had just opened the door and was pulling her hair back into a pony tail when Mulder appeared in the doorway. "Shaft!"

"One more word and it's 'Joy to the World.' We are in Florida again after all." Walking past him into the room, she found her laptop and turned it on. Hearing Mulder laugh, she turned to where he was following her path across the room. "As for this case. I'm lost as to why Skinner bothered to send us here."

"Maybe he thought we needed a break. Come on Scully, it's an old-fashioned ghost hunt. We could help him find peace. You know, move on."

The grin on his face told Scully he believed what he was saying, at least to some extent. "Help him move on, Mulder? Watching 'Casper' again?" Pulling on her glasses, she began to transfer some of the more important notes she had taken while talking with Annabelle Crandall.

"Evidence gathering, Scully. Evidence gathering." His eyes were glowing with mischief. "Aren't you just a little curious to know why suddenly a man who died more than a hundred and twenty years ago is suddenly appearing? You strike me as the type who loved ghost stories around the campfire as a kid." Mulder kicked off his shoes and went to read over Scully's shoulder what she had been typing.

"Ghost stories yes. I'm just not sold on ghost reality yet." A knock on the door announced the arrival of dinner, and for the next half an hour they concentrated on eating dinner and the occasional shop talk. Scully looked down into the now empty Moo Shoo pork container, commenting, "Well, maybe we should call it a night. It's getting late."

Mulder's eyebrow's shot up and Scully could see the innuendo coming from a mile away. "Ohhh, Scully. An invitation? And I didn't bring my nice p.j.'s!"

"And here I'd always pegged you for a boxer man."

"Hey! The one's I've got on are a magic eye print. Wanna look, Scully?" Pretending to unbuckle his belt, he ducked when she threw a pillow at him. "I'm hurt." Giving her his best puppy dog eyes look, he retrieved her pillow, and turned to walk through the connecting door. "And I thought UFO's were bad. Today the problem has been the flying objects."

"Night, Mulder!"

***

St. Augustine, Florida
St. Augustine Lighthouse and Museum

Annabelle was standing on the large front porch at exactly nine the next morning as they walked from the car to the building. "Good morning! It looks as if the weather has chosen to cooperate with us on this fine day!"

"Good morning, Annabelle," Scully said warmly. Although she wasn't sure whether or not to believe the story about Gregory McConnaughy, she found herself instantly taken by the woman's open warmth. "Are you ready to show us the locations of the sightings?"

Mulder and Scully walked up the wooden steps to the porch. "Sure thing. Just let me tell Sam and I'll be right with you."

She walked into the Victorian style home, while Mulder and Scully waited outside. "You've got to admit that it's beautiful here." Scully's gazed around the well cared for lawn as she spoke. "And I've always loved lighthouses."

Mulder glanced over at Scully and could see the far away look in her eyes for just a moment; before she blinked and it was gone, replaced by professional Dr. Scully. "I always liked the idea of living out on a point, alone with the wilderness. Roughing it."

"Roughing it, Mulder?" She asked with a laugh. "Our last experience in wilderness survival didn't go so well, especially considering your status as an Indian man when you were a kid."

Mulder managed a hurt look. "That was the mothmen, Scully. Besides, I was hurt." She could have sworn he was pouting by his last statement. "And then you started singing and the wolves started howling . . . "

He managed to keep a straight face while he was baiting her, and knew she was about to retort when he was saved by Annabelle walking back out onto the porch. "If you'll follow me." The walked off the porch and followed a round stone path around to the area between the keeper's house and the lighthouse. "This is where I was standing the first time I saw him. Gregory was right up there." She extended her arm to point to a particular place on the red observation deck.

"But there was no vocal communication, correct?" Mulder was all business now.

"Not that time, Agent Mulder. The first time he there was any direct communication was the third sighting, but he didn't speak aloud."

"What about the second time he was seen?" Scully referred to her notes. "Again you saw him?"

Annabelle nodded her head. "Yes, ma'am. I was talking with two tourists just before closing time when one of the couple noticed a glow out of the corner of her eye. It was coming from the entrance house to the lighthouse." All three walked over to the smaller white painted brick building, which had the year 1871 written over the doorway. "We walked over from the back porch and entered the building. Gregory was standing over on the right. He looked at us, held out his arm and disappeared."

"After you finish showing us the places where Mr. McConnaughy has been seen, we'll need to speak with Ms. Pruitt and Mr. Pearson." Annabelle nodded at Mulder's comments. "Now, visit number three?"

Several hours later, Annabelle had led them around the grounds, and into the museum. The two most recent occurrences had taken place in the main sitting room inside the museum. "It was you and Mr. Pearson who were present the last time?"

"Yes. We had some flood damage about six weeks ago and he was finishing the repairs. This was the first time Gregory spoke that we were able to understand him."

Scully studied her closely, she could see that Annabelle was observing the event in her mind. "What did he say?" Scully asked, finding herself somewhat spellbound by the story.

Annabelle's eyes flickered across at Scully, a haunted look filling the gray orbs. "'Fire'. He said the word 'fire'. His eyes were tormented, and shone with flecks of red and orange. And he reached out his hand as if pleading for help. Then flames appeared out of no where. He looked frantic to get out, but seemed rooted to the spot. We managed to clear the few remaining people from the house. But when they checked, there was no damage. I'm sorry, it gets to me sometimes."

"That's all right, Annabelle." Scully placed her hand on Annabelle's arm, and caught a glimpse of the distant panic in Mulder's eyes. A tilt of her head asked him silently if he was all right. He responded with a slight nod, unnoticeable to someone not paying attention. Annabelle watched the silent communication in wonder at the way the partners could work without speaking, almost as if each knowing what the other was thinking. "When can we speak with Ms. Pruitt and Mr. Pearson?"

Shaking her head as if to clear it, Annabelle thought for a minute. "Sam is working in the shop, but Mark is in now, and shouldn't be too busy. I mentioned to both of them already that you would like to speak with them. Mark should be out on the grounds."

Shaking her hand, Mulder spoke next. "Thank you, Annabelle. You've been a great help thus far."

"Anything more I can do to help, don't hesitate to ask." She said pleasantly. "Just walk through the back door in the gift shop and you should find him without too much trouble."

Exiting the keeper's house from the back, they began to cross the lawn. They found Mark Pearson just past the wrought iron fence that enclosed the yard. He was working on painting a pair of wooden benches, and stood when he heard their approach.

"Mr. Pearson?" Scully asked.

He nodded and wiped his hands off on a rag that was hanging out of his jeans pocket. "Yes, ma'am." He spoke with a more pronounced accent, stood taller than Mulder and had light brown hair. "You're the federal agents investigating Gregory McConnaughy, right?"

"That's correct," Mulder responded. "We were hoping to get your impressions and memories of the recent events."

Mr. Pearson motioned toward a pair of wrought iron benches that sat under one of the large oak trees on the property. "I tell ya," he began. "I'd heard the story, about Gregory, when I was a kid. Heck his wife is buried in the old cemetery. I grew up around these parts, you see. When Annabelle first mentioned seeing someone on the observation deck, I thought maybe it was just a trick of the eye. The second time, there were two guests there with her. They saw someone too."

"Annabelle said that you and Ms. Pruitt were together at the third sighting. Could you tell us about it?" Scully asked.

Rubbing his hands on his knees before answering. "I saw him. Gregory. I still wasn't convinced until Sam and I were in the upstairs of the house and we heard something fall to the floor. Any other time we might have just assumed one of the displays had toppled over somehow. Still, even though we didn't know what to believe about Gregory, we checked it out anyway."

Scully could tell that he was visibly shaken bu retelling his story. "We turned a corner and came up short. There are two windows along that wall that face the town." He pointed up at two windows in the brick wall behind them. "He was blue, sorta. And he was glowing. When we first saw him, he was looking out the window toward the town. When he heard us, or so it seemed, he turned to face us. Pointing toward the town, he continued to look at us. His lips were moving, but no sound came out."

"Is that when he disappeared?" Mulder asked.

Shaking his head, Mark continued. "No, he kept trying to tell us something. He was getting more and more agitated. If we could have heard him, he would have been yelling. And he kept pointing, each motion more and more, choppy I guess is the best description." He paused, recalling the event. "And then he looked at us, with such sad longing in his eyes and faded away."

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, before Mulder stood and walked to stand under the set of windows. "Which window was it, Mr. Pearson?"

Mark moved to stand next to Mulder, leaving Scully behind at the benches wondering what leap Mulder was attempting to make. "The one on the left," he replied.

"Can you take us up there?" Mark nodded and the trio walked around to the front porch and into the house. They walked in silence until they were walking up the stairs and Mulder spoke. "What do you believe that Mr. McConnaughy was trying to tell you, Mr. Pearson?"

Reaching the top of the stairs, he shook his head. "Agent Mulder, I don't know what to think." Mark led them through the connecting rooms of the second floor, toward the north wall. "We turned this corner in the hallway, and were able to see him in that room." He pointed into what was once obviously a bedroom, but now held a clothing display.

Mulder walked out of the hallway and into the room, crossing over to the window. "But you can't see the town from here." He commented matter-of-factly. "I thought you said he was pointing toward town?"

"He was." Mark walked over to where Mulder was looking out at the oak tree they had just been sitting beneath. "Town is in that direction. And at the time he was here, they had experienced a lot of erosion and the town was easier to see in good weather."

Scully recognized the look in Mulder's eyes which signified he thought he might be onto something. "Mulder? What is it?"

He tore his gaze from the scene outside the window to look over at where Scully was staring at him with concerned eyes. "His family, Scully. He was wanting to see his family. Annabelle said they were in town at the time of the fire."

Scully nodded. "That makes sense." If the air in the room hadn't been so serious, she would have burst out laughing at the look Mulder gave her. She responded with a look of her own, and again the conversation was settled without speaking.

Mulder continued, "Mr. Pearson, Annabelle told us that the fifth time he appeared you alone saw him."

Stepping up next to Mulder, Scully placed her hand on his arm. "Mulder, it's late. Why don't we let Mr. Pearson go home and talk with him tomorrow?" Mulder nodded his head in reluctant agreement. "Mr. Pearson, you'll be here tomorrow, correct?"

"I'll be in about noon, Agent Scully. I've got the morning off, but then I'll be here for most of the day."

They walked back downstairs; it was just beginning to change to dusk outside. Walking out onto the covered porch, Scully said, "Alright, Mr. Pearson. We'll see you after lunch tomorrow. Thank you for your time."

"Good night," Mark said before walking over to where the benches were drying.

Mulder and Scully walked over to where they had parked the rental car that morning and got in. Pulling out onto the small street which led back to highway A1A. "Dinner, Scully?"

Leaning back into her seat, she heard her stomach growl. "Definitely. How did we manage to miss lunch two days in a row, Mulder?"

He laughed, following the road back to their hotel. "Pizza tonight?"

"Sure," she replied, her eyes closed and fighting sleep.

***

St. Augustine, Florida
Ponce de Leon Motor Lodge

While they waited on the pizza, Scully and Mulder debated the facts they had learned so far. They still didn't know what had caused him to suddenly start appearing again. Soon after they had eaten the entire pizza, Scully went into her room, changed and headed for bed.

"Mulder?" She called out from her room. When he didn't answer, she stuck her head into his room only to find he passed out on the bed asleep. Pulling the covers up over him, she went back into her room. She wasn't sure why, but she left the connecting door open and climbed into her own bed. Before she knew it, she was blissfully asleep.

The next thing she knew, Scully was awakened by a strange noise. Her sleep riddled brain couldn't quite place where it had come from until she heard it again. A stifled cry. It came from Mulder's room. She was out of bed in less time than it took for her to process the thought, and ran across the room and through the still open doorway.

She found him wrapped up in the cover she had recently placed over him. His forehead was covered in sweat and he continued to thrash around. Crawling up onto the bed, she felt his pulse only to discover it racing. "Mulder?" He continued to be lost in the grip of his nightmare, and Scully could make out his muttering several words. No. Scully. Susannah? "Mulder!" She called his name louder, but still his dream state wouldn't break.

Shaking him by the shoulders gently, she called his name again. "Mulder!" He gasped loudly, and shot up in his bed. A difficult move considering how tightly he had wound himself up in the bed covers. Groggy eyes searched all around, settling on Scully. She saw a look in them similar to when Annabelle had spoken of the mysterious fire. "Mulder?"

Working on controlling his breathing, he managed a hoarse whisper. "Scully?" She nodded and found herself receiving a tackle bear hug. His grip on her shoulders was intense, and she could hear him still struggling to regain his breath.

Pulling back out of the embrace, she again felt for his pulse. It was still fast, but gradually slowing. "Okay, Mulder. Tell me about it. Tell me about the dream. Was it the same one from the office yesterday morning?"

"Scully . . . "

"Mulder, talk to me. Please."

Looking into her earnest blue eyes, he took a steadying breath and tried to decide where to begin. "Fire, Scully. The house is on fire."