TITLE:  Over a Barrel (1 of 5)  
AUTHOR:   Chapter 1 by CoryG. 
E-MAIL: [email protected]

This is a Round Robin and has 5 authors.  CoryG led us off and each author
had to find a way to include their hometown in some way in their chapter. 
See if you can spot it. 


CATEGORY:  X-File, MSR
KEY WORDS: UST

SUMMARY: From Buffalo to Texas, Mulder and Scully get the villan and
that's not all. 


DISCLAIMER:The XFiles, Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, et al belong to 1013 and
Fox productions - we're only borrowing them. 

VERY IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER:  Please let it be known that the authors of
this Round Robin met at the Haven for the FBI's Most Unwanted.  The Haven
is the SOLE property of Amy.  This Round Robin is not supported, condoned,
produced by her site, nor is it a part of it.  We would very much like to
thank Amy for all the hard work that goes into the Haven and makes it such
a special place to visit.  The Round Robin was coordinated perfectly
through Onelist.com

SPOILERS:  None, really, although character names are mentioned. 
DISTRIBUTION:  Gossamer, yes.  Others, please let us know where so we can
ALL visit. 

FEEDBACK:  Any feedback is welcome and will be shared with our entire
group.  You may send feedback to any of the authors and we will happily
forward it on. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES - CoryG says:  I would just like to say that these stories
started as simply a way of passing the months between the XF seasons, but
turned into not only a growth experience for me, but an opportunity to
meet a wonderful group of talented c reative people that have enriched my
life and taught me lots!  Thanks guys! 


Dana Scully picked up her hand and glanced and her wristwatch. She had
been in the office since 8am and after eight hours of catching up on
paperwork, with a scant 20-minute break to gobble down a dry turkey
sandwich, she felt ready to call it a day. She sent off her last e-mail of
the afternoon and as she made to tidy up some files, the door to the
basement office opened wide. 

In strode her partner. But while he typically sauntered in and settled his
lanky frame into his desk adjoining hers, today he looked at her somewhat
mischievously. He held her gaze for a few moments before she was compelled
to speak. 

"Okay, Mulder. You look like the cat that swallowed the canary. What
gives?" 

Mulder sat down at his desk and swiveled his chair around to look at his
partner. "We got a new assignment, something right up your alley." 

Scully dropped her chin slightly and stared at him. "Is that right?" 

"Seems like Agent Wagner of Violent Crimes was up in Buffalo, New York
scheduled to give a little talk about apprehending the serial offender
when he was taken ill. Landed in the hospital. Sick as a dog." 

"Will he be all right?" 

"Yeah. Nothing a lot of Pepto Bismol can't cure. Seems like he just had
one too many of those Buffalo style chicken wings. I guess someone forgot
to tell him to order the mild," Mulder finished with a smirk. He
continued, rising to walk over to the filing
 cabinet. He turned and faced Scully. "So, what do you say, Scully? Up for
a little of the lecture circuit?" 

When Scully raised her eyebrows, Mulder continued, "Skinner requested that
we hop a plane to the great North and fill in for Wagner. Care to share
with the others how we catch the bad guys here in the X files?" 


Eight AM the following morning found Scully seated next to Mulder on a
plane bound for Western New York. They had spent the evening hastily
combing through files and creating a presentation about the efforts of not
only psychological profile but also fore nsic evidence in the apprehension
of serial killers. 

Scully sat facing her laptop reviewing their presentation that they would
make after the luncheon later that day. In another hour they would be
landing and then off to the hotel to be greeted by members of the Buffalo
field office. Their presentation was to be made to law enforcement
officials both in the Western New York areas as well as the Ontario
region. 

Scully glanced at Mulder beside her. She was always amazed how he could
sleep in these cramped quarters so high in the air. While she was not a
nervous flyer, Scully never felt she could fully relax in the planes. As
she shut down her computer, the plane suddenly shook violently causing the
beverage glasses to slide off the trays. Scully instinctively grabbed
Mulder's arm, but then reflexively pulled away when the plane settled back
down. She inhaled deeply
 for a few moments and then opened her eyes. 

As her partner made a sound, she turned to him. He continued to recline in
his seat, head straight, eyes clothes, but with a faint smile playing
around his lips. "Mulder?" she questioned softly. 

"Don't worry," he began without opening his eyes, "no UFO's have been
sited around Buffalo for a long time." At that moment, the pilot announced
that they would be landing at the Buffalo/Niagara Falls International
Airport within thirty minutes. 

Mulder raised his head, righted his seat and turned to Scully. "Ever been
to Niagara Falls, Scully?" 

"No actually. But my parents went there on their honeymoon. They showed us
pictures and we all asked them what there was to do there. I remember them
talking about a wax museum and having their picture taken going over the
falls in a barrel. My mother jus t smiled and told us that their honeymoon
was just a time for them to be together, to hold hands and walk through
the parks. My father was constantly away on his ships in the navy and my
mother always felt that if she didn't have the quantity of time with
 my father, she would have quality time with him. My father, I remember
him just looking at my mom and saying 'while the sight of the Niagara
Falls might be one of the wonders of the world, they paled in comparison
to the sight of your mother'," Scully en ded wistfully. 

"Hmm," Mulder replied, and for a moment, their eyes locked, and then he
looked down to his hands. "I went to the wedding of a college friend whose
wife was from Buffalo. A group of us went up to view the falls. Amazing,
work of nature. But the one thing I
 remember is a couple standing there, looking deeply into each other's
eyes, and tossing their wedding rings over the falls, and then walking
away together. I guess many people go to the Falls for many different
reasons." Mulder paused and then looked at Scully. "But maybe if we have
some extra time, Scully, we could go check out the area and see if the
hotel rooms really do have heart shaped beds?" 

Scully threw Mulder a rather severe glance, but a smile played around the
corners of her mouth. "Come on, Mulder. Time to fasten your seatbelt.
We're heere." 


A pair of local FBI agents greeted Mulder and Scully at the airport. Agent
Frank Zimmerman, a portly man in his fifties extended his hand toward
Mulder. "Glad you could make it on such short notice. Hopefully,
Washington sent some agents with stronger sto machs this time." He reached
over to shake Scully's hand. "Heard something about you two, that you
handle some pretty weird cases, some kind of files that Hoover started or
something?" 

Mulder smiled. "The X Files. Actually, they are cases that have been
unsolved and we have had some luck solving those cases or some like them
that are considered perhaps outside the mainstream of law enforcement."
Mulder turned to look at the second younger agent who had gravitated
toward Scully. 

"Hi, I'm Jim Palermo." He flashed a smile that could only be described as
dazzling toward Scully as he reached out his hand to her. Despite her
introduction of herself, Palermo continued to shake her hand until
Zimmerman's short cough alerted the younger agent that Agent Scully had a
partner. 

As Palermo shook his hand briefly and the introductions were made, Mulder
quickly sized up the agent. Young, no more than 30, certainly blessed by
genetics with coal dark hair, a cleft chin, and dark eyes. He also
appeared to be rather fit and Mulder surm ised he spent a good deal of
time in the gym. Mulder also surmised that he was captivated by his
partner. 

"Can I take your bags for you, Agent Scully?" Mulder waited with some
anticipation at the response he knew would be forthcoming and what it
would do to that dazzling smile. 

"Thank you for the offer, Agent Palermo, but I think I can manage." 

But the smile continued as the young agent watched Scully walk by him. A
moment later, he realized that he was the only one of the four remaining
and that the others had already started to make their way to the parking
lot. 

The four walked to a standard FBI issue sedan. Zimmerman unlocked the
doors and popped the trunk. Mulder and Scully deposited their bags and
turned to enter the car. Palermo already had a rear door wide open and
waved to Scully to enter. Mulder glanced ov er the car hood at her and
winked. She rolled her eyes and obliged Palermo who then ran around the
car to get into the seat next to her. 

As the foursome fastened their seatbelts, Zimmerman pulled out into
traffic. "I took the liberty of making arrangements for you at the Hyatt
where we're having the convention. Your Agent Wagner won't be needing one
as he currently is residing at Buffalo G eneral, poor guy. You can get
yourselves situated. You'll be giving the keynote at the luncheon. We're
really looking forward to hearing about your experiences." 

Mulder looked at Scully in the rearview mirror and smiled. She returned a
slightly uncomfortable smile as Palermo was asking her all sorts of
questions about her work, and she appeared less than interested. She was
relieved a few moments later when they pulled into the underground parking
of the Hyatt. 

Mulder smiled to himself at how quickly she almost hopped out of the car
when it stopped. 

After checking in, the foursome rode the elevator up. The elevator stopped
on the fourth floor and Zimmerman turned to Palermo. "Jimmy, why don't you
get Agent Scully situated and fill her in on what's going on this
afternoon." He handed him the key. He l ooked at Scully. "You're another
two floors up. That's all they had at this late date." 

Mulder glanced at Scully as he exited the elevator. She looked up at him
and tilted her head toward Palermo, and has the elevator doors closed,
Mulder heard him launch into a discussion about his bench pressing weights
at the gym. He shook his head and fo llowed Zimmerman down the hallway to
his room. 


Zimmerman opened the door and lead Mulder inside. "You still have a few
hours. Again, we really appreciate you and your partner coming at such
short notice. We really weren't sure what these X files had to do with a
serial killer conference but your AD Sk inner assured me that you guys
would fit the bill." 

Mulder turned to Zimmerman. "Who all will be in attendance at this
luncheon?" 

"Despite the fact that we're a small little city here on the Great Lakes,
Buffalo and the Western New York area has been involved in a couple of
interesting cases, including the .22 Caliber Killer. Law from Rochester is
here and they dealt with Arthur Shawcross. We even have representatives
from Ontario Regional Police and Toro nto. They had a serial murderer Paul
Bernardo a few years ago. So everyone wanted to get some additional
training on the latest in criminal profiling and techniques that have been
effective." 

"I've read about many of these cases. All were solved, so you all must be
doing something right," Mulder replied. 

Zimmerman then left and Mulder quickly showered and changed. His mind
wandered to Scully and he smiled, wondering if she had gotten rid of
Palermo or whether he had offered to wash her back for her. Mulder quickly
frowned. He didn't like where that though t lead. 


About a half an hour later, Scully looked at herself in the mirror of her
bathroom. She had had some time to unpack, freshen up and change before
meeting Mulder and the others in the lobby. She also had some time away
from Agent Palermo who did not hide his attraction for her. Scully sighed.
She looked at herself again in the m irror and straightened her suit. It
was one of her favorites, a confidence builder. While she was in no way
concerned about her abilities as an agent and as a doctor, getting up in
front of a group of people for a presentation always caused her some anxie
ty. But she loved the turquoise suit she wore. It had cost her dearly, as
she had had it custom tailored to her shape, but it seemed to give her a
little extra boost. A "power suit." 

Scully smiled and turned to leave. As she moved to turn the handle of her
hotel room, she paused briefly and peered out the peephole. She silently
opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. Not seeing her
ever-present lurking agent, she smiled to he rself, closed the door behind
her and walked to the elevator. In a few moments, the doors reopened and
she walked out into the lobby. 

She scanned the groups of people, searching for Mulder. There seemed to be
many in attendance, and the thought of that caused a few butterflies to
churn in her stomach. With increased urgency she turned her head, looking
for Mulder. At that moment, a grou p of men burst out in laughter. She
turned and saw her partner in the middle of the group. She could see the
top of his head above those of the other agents and he seemed to be
relating to them some story, as they seemed focused on him. Scully smiled.
She
 knew Mulder wasn't too fond of large crowds but he seemed to be holding
his own. 


As the group separated, she saw that he was wearing his "Johnny Cash"
suit. Charcoal, almost black, with a white shirt, and a black tie with
flecks of silver in it, Mulder looked distinguished. Scully admitted to
herself that it was one of her favorites. It made Mulder's eyes look just
a little bit darker, his shoulders a little broader.... 

Scully was interrupted by a hand on her arm. "Agent Scully. I was just
going to come up and look for you, see if there was, um, anything you
needed." A toothy grin met her face as she turned to the young agent. 

"Thank you. I managed just fine." Scully looked around again to find
Mulder but he was gone. She vaguely listened to Palermo talking about how
excited he was to hear about their cases and their techniques. Scully
nodded politely at all the right times and
 continued to look for Mulder. 

At that moment, she felt a hand at her lower back and a deep voice behind
her. "Agent Palermo. Would you mind if I borrowed my partner for a few
minutes so we could go over any last minute details?" 

Was it her imagination, or did Scully hear Mulder emphasize "my partner?"
With some reluctance, Palermo nodded and Mulder turned Scully, still with
his hand on her lower back and growled in her ear, "looked like you could
use some, eh, rescuing?" 

Scully smiled. "Agent Mulder, you are perfectly aware that I can get
myself out of most any situation." She smiled at him, then "thanks." 

"Are you ready to face the masses?" Scully nodded. "Well, then, let's get
it on." 


They spoke for ninety minutes about some of their more famous cases:
Tooms, Pfaster, Roche, and Van Blundht, among others. They spoke of the
interplay between science and psychology, religion, reality and the
extreme, proven detective techniques and gut i nstincts, between the human
monsters, and the monsters that appear human. Slides were pictorial,
visual and concrete evidence of what they had experienced. 

Their attendees sat in rapt silence at their presentation. While initially
concerned that they would not be well received, Mulder and Scully felt
that their presentation began as a slow trickle of information. But as
they began to relive some of these cases, their emotions and the interplay
between them allowed the information a nd their experiences to flow into
the audience. 

At the end, they were rewarded with thunderous applause. For another hour,
they entertained numerous questions about the cases. Even after Agent
Zimmerman stood in front of them and announced that later that evening,
the agents would be available to answe r additional questions, Mulder and
Scully still were inundated. As they descended from the stage, other
agents crowded around them, separating them from each other. Scully looked
for Mulder and saw him looking over the others' heads for her. He smiled,
sh ook his head at her and turned his attention to an agent who was
calling out his name. 

Scully then listened to others talk about their own cases and might she
have a new angle on them? How could they work on the XF and what kind of
training did she have for these cases? Scully answered as she could. As
she looked across at Mulder fielding q uestions, she felt a surge of pride
for him, that for all his hard work, and his extreme beliefs, he was now
able to experience some of the attention, reward, accommodation and
acceptance to which he was entitled. Mulder wanted to believe. But he so
despe rately wanted others to believe as well. Maybe today, many did.
Scully believed in him, and perhaps Mulder even now came to believe in
himself. 

After a few more moments, Scully heard a young voice above the questions.
"Okay, agents, detectives. Let Agent Scully have a break. She'll be
available up in the hospitality suite later tonight for more questions."
He took her by the arm. "They would have
 had you there all day. Thought you could use a break." 

Scully smiled. "Thanks." 

Palermo continued. "Thought you might like to go up to your room for a
little R and R. If you have a few hours, I thought you might like to go up
and see the falls." Palermo guided her toward the elevator. They entered
and before she could, he pressed her floor. The elevator closed and they
were alone. The ride up to the floor seemed interminable. 

"Ah, you mean Niagara Falls." Scully tried to make small conversation. 

"Can't come to the Western New York area without a trip up there. I used
to drive tour buses up there to put myself through college. I know
everything about the place. What do you say? Can I interest you, in a
trip?" Palermo smiled as they reached Scully' s hotel room. He stood
rather close and Scully turned away from him to try and get her key in the
lock. At that moment, her door opened wide. There stood Mulder, with
feigned surprise on his face. 

"Hi, Scully. Agent Palermo, how nice of you to escort agent Scully to her
room. I was just returning some of out case notes and files. Don't want to
leave those lying around, do we?" 

Palermo looked taken aback that Mulder was in Scully's room and remained
standing there, his mouth slightly open, speechless. Mulder continued.
"Scully, Agent Zimmerman was good enough to offer us a trip up to Niagara
Falls. In the mood for something wet and wild?" 

Scully smiled and turned to Palermo. "Agent Palermo was just extending us"
(emphasis on "us") the same offer. How thoughtful. Of course, Mulder, I
would love to see the falls." 

Palermo found his voice. "Well, um, how about we meet you in the lobby in
about ten minutes and we'll make our way up there then?" He smiled, bowed
his head and left he two agents. 

"Was it something that I said?" Mulder asked innocently. 

Scully just pushed by him and walked into her room. "Yeah, it's a bit
crowded when he's around. Mulder, go take off your suit-" 

"Oooh, Scully, are you coming on to me?" 

"Mulder, the falls are wet. Put on something more comfortable." As she
went to push him out her door, she added, with a smile. " I'll meet you
down in the lobby in ten. Don't make me wait, or I'll send Palermo up for
you." 


Mulder was waiting for Scully in the lobby when she exited the elevator.
As she walked toward Mulder and the two familiar agents that flanked him,
he made a funny face and leaned his head toward Palermo. Scully held back
a smile but lowered her chin as sh e reached him. "Agents," she greeted. 

At Zimmerman's bidding they accompanied him back down to the underground
parking and the standard issue government vehicle. As Palermo opened the
rear passenger door for Scully, Mulder scooted into the seat on the
opposite side. When Palermo saw he was to
 sit in front with his partner, he frowned momentarily. But as he settled
into his seat, he found it no effort at all to turn around to face Scully. 

They left the hotel and moved onto the I90 north toward Niagara Falls.
"Ever been to Niagara Falls?" Zimmerman asked the agents. 

"Once, for a friend's wedding," Mulder answered. 

"How about you, Agent Scully?" Asked Palermo. 

"Can't say I have had the pleasure. We traveled a lot as kids with my dad
in the Navy, but Niagara Falls is one place we never made it to. My
parents came here for their honeymoon and showed us the pictures when we
were kids. My mom always said that altho ugh it might sound clich, Niagara
Falls was a romantic place and a great place to start a marriage," Scully
finished. 

After a few moments, Scully felt two sets of eyes on her. Palermo's looked
as if he was seeing his own dream, a dream with her and him and.... She
broke his gaze to look at Mulder, who seemed almost wistful. Realizing he
was staring, Mulder quickly grabbe d Scully's hand and gave it a quick
squeeze. He leaned in briefly and whispered, "great presentation today
Agent Scully. I think we wowed them." 

Scully replied by squeezing his hand as well. They realized that Palermo
was speaking and turned their attentions back to him. He continued to
regal them with facts and information about the Niagara Falls, electric
power, and even about the daredevils who
 attempted to sail over the falls in various devices. 


"There's a great museum in town if you want to learn more about the falls
daredevils. Although I daresay that we have some unknown daredevils still
on a regular basis," Zimmerman stated. 

"Jumpers?" asked Mulder. 

"Yeah. Every year there are a few. Some are talked in, some aren't and
they're found days and months later. City put in a whole system of panic
phones for potential jumpers so they can talk to someone. Fact is, it's
very dangerous for rescue personnel to get into the falls to pull out the
bastards. They're not only risking their lives, but the lives of others." 

"Makes you wonder sometimes how bad it would have to be for someone to
think he was better off jumping," Palermo added. 

Mulder and Scully just looked at each other, coming up with their own
ideas of private hell. 

Their thoughts were broken by Zimmerman's statement, " We're here." They
disembarked and walked towards the source of a thunderous roar. "I'd
forgotten that they were this loud, "Mulder yelled as they came closer. 

As Scully sited the falls, she couldn't contain a gasp. "Kinda takes your
breath away, doesn't it," Palermo yelled into her ear, gazing intently at
her. 

They walked to the railing and all four stared down into the turbulent
Niagara River below the brink of the falls. For a few moments, all were
silent. Scully looked around her and took in the myriad of people who were
also enraptured by the site. All nationalities were represented, the young
and old, families and couples. Scully's eyes followed a number of couples
who, she surmised, had taken he r parent's advise and started their lives
together at the Niagara Falls. She smiled wistfully. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mulder grabbing her hand. "Hey Scully,
what do you think? Want to take a ride on one of those?" Mulder pointed
down to one of the small boats below bouncing around in the waters near
the falls. 

She laughed. 

"Mulder, you get seasick even when the water is calm. How do you think
you're going to manage getting bounced around on one of those? The water
looks really choppy down there." 

"Aw, come on Scully. It'll be fun. If I get sick, you can play doctor!" 
Mulder turned to Zimmerman to find out how to get down to the river. After
an elevator ride down, they got in line to purchase their tickets.
Zimmerman bowed out. 

"I'm not the drip and dry type any more. Too old. You go ahead, I'll see
ya on the other side". He smiled and walked away. 

Palermo got in line after Mulder and Scully. After paying, they got in
line and were handed raincoats to put on. Mulder quickly shrugged into his
and turned to Scully. "My, don't I make a fashion statement." 

Palermo helped Scully with her coat, much to her chagrin. To make matters
worse, as they got to the boat, they were the last two to be allowed on,
leaving Palermo to remain behind, frowning somewhat furiously. 

Mulder and Scully waved, Mulder almost gleefully, and they marched up the
stairs to the boat. 

"Come on, Scully, let's go up to the top. Then we can see everything." 

"I don't know how much we'll see. That mist looks awfully thick, Mulder." 
But she followed him anyway. She was pleased to see Mulder so relaxed and
exited about an activity. It wasn't often that he had some fun. 

The boat left the dock and made it's way toward the falls. A tape-recorded
message began to play giving some history about the falls. It was rather
difficult to understand given the roar of tthe water, the engines and the
waves crashing into the boat. Scu lly heard something about the Maid of
the Mist and Native American Sacrifice. 

She knew Mulder would be intrigued but he stood near the edge of the boat
and looked over. Scully moved along side him. "Hard to hear the tape, eh?" 

Mulder didn't answer. When Scully nudged his shoulder, he turned to her
and she could see that his sea legs were failing him. The water did become
turbulent as they approached the falls. She put her arm around him and
watched as his knuckles turned white. 
 I guess I will be playing doctor, Scully thought to herself. 

As they reached the limits of the boat's power against the currents,
Scully tried to keep her eyes open to see the power of the waterfall on
the rocks and river below, but with the mist, it was proving difficult. 

Suddenly, Mulder moved away from her and frantically seemed to make his
way to the bow of the ship. "Mulder," she screamed but he did not respond.
It was then she realized that there was an individual minus raincoat
standing up on the railing on the bow o f the boat, appearing ready to
jump off. 

Mulder dove at his feet, and managed to hang on, although in doping so, he
hung over the railing himself, in danger of them both falling overboard. 

Scully tried to move closer and watched in horror as the two bodies hung
on as the boat bucked in the waves. 

"Mulderrrrrrr......." 


TITLE:  Over a Barrel (2 of 5)  
AUTHOR:  Chapter 2 by barb (alter ego) 
E-MAIL: [email protected]
 

Author's Notes:  Just wanted to say that this has been the most incredible
experience.  When CoryG began the story in a place I'd never been, I
freaked, but research on the net saved me and the rest, as they say, is
history.  The HavenGroup FanFic is fant astic bunch of friends. 



Scully was running towards him, arms outstretched as the deafening roar of
the raging water and the mighty diesel engines swallowed her cry. And
though she ran with all her might she felt as though she was running in
slow motion, backwards even. 

Two steps too late. 

Mulder and the would-be jumper slid over the railing like a snake with
Mulder still firmly hanging on to the other's ankles. Scully dimly heard
an emergency horn as the passengers around her cried out in a horror that
could never equal her own. Not stopping to think, she simply acted;
kicking off her shoes and reaching for the nearest life preserver. 

She was actually on the railing when one of the crewmen realized what she
was doing and reached out to her grabbing her arm in an iron fist. 

Scully angrily pulled back hanging on as the ship bucked and fought
against the current. "Let me go!" She yelled furiously, her blue eyes
blazing. The hood of her rain slicker had fallen back and her normally
bright auburn hair was several shades darker a nd plastered to her face
"That's my partner! Let me go!" With those final words and expecting a
fight, she yanked her arm back with a surge of adrenaline that gave her
added strength. 

The crewman was taken completely aback by the unbridled fury emanating
from the petite redheaded woman before him and he released her arm as a
reflex; as if she had burned him somehow. 

The unexpected lack of resistance caused Scully to lose her balance. She
teetered in the air for a split second then somersaulted backwards
awkwardly. Unable to spot the water accurately in the swirling mist, she
landed on her back in a kind of reverse belly flop. The effect was the
same. 


For a moment, she was absolutely certain that her heart had stopped and
that all of her breath had left her in that one agonizing whoosh. 

She felt herself sinking beneath the weight of her clothes but the icy
chill of the water almost immediately revived her enough to allow her to
kick herself back towards the surface. She broke the surface, her breath
clogged in her throat and she fought to get any air at all into her
burning lungs. It took every bit of mental fortitude not to succumb to the
panic that surged through her veins as she t ried to spot her partner. 

Although she could barely make out the boat and the passengers above, she
watched as they sent additional life preservers raining down to float
around her like giant candies. Latching onto two of them, she kicked with
all her might towards the last area s he'd seen Mulder and battled the
raging water to get there. After all that they'd been through in the past
six years, she was not about to lose him in the "honeymoon capital of the
U.S." 

Mulder desperately struggled to stay above the water. He had lost his grip
on the jumper when they had hit the water and flailed about desperately,
choking and gagging until his foot kicked him. He reached down blindly and
grasped his shirt and pulled him
 up in the cross-chest carry. 

He knew that he didn't stand a chance of swimming towards the boat,
burdened by their combined weight, his own strength giving out and the
roiling water that seemed intent on pushing him down. The mist, too, was
conspiring to foil his efforts. It was disc oncerting; sight was almost
completely useless, hearing too. 

Of course he understood that the boat was out there but he had lost all
sense of direction. A detached part of his brain realized that he had
injured his left shoulder and the grip of his left hand was getting weaker
as the arm became numb. 

Dimly he realized that he was slipping into shock, as he choked and
gagged, treading water by instinct alone. His teeth were chattering
uncontrollably in the cold water. The mountainous waves were everywhere,
pulling them, sucking them down, tossing them about. And yet he hung on to
the man, refusing to let him go. 

As consciousness slowly faded away, he suddenly remembered the legend of
the "Maid of the Mist" that he'd heard as a child. How the Chief Eagle
Eye's beautiful daughter, Lelawala, was chosen to be sacrificed in an
attempt to appease the Thunder God who ha d sent a giant water snake to
poison the water and kill the Indians. 

When the water closed over him he felt the pull of the giant snake, that
legend told, lived at the bottom of the river. As he still fought to keep
him and the other man afloat, he saw her: he saw Lelawala, Maid of the
Mist. 

She was smiling and reaching out to him, wearing a white doeskin robe with
a wreath of flowers in her long black hair. He didn't think it strange at
all that he could see her so clearly in the mist. Even though he was
unable to tell what she was holding i n her hands, he instinctively
stretched out his right arm and took what she offered. 

Two life preservers. 



Somehow he got one under the other man's back and draped himself across
the second one. He looped his arm through the rope and fell back as
exhaustion overcame him. The deafening roar of the boat and the crashing
falls faded away to peaceful blackness. (I 'm sorry, Scully )

Scully closed her eyes and managed to pull in one great gulp of air as a
huge wave bore down upon her, smothering her in its impact. Feebly, she
struggled back to the surface as the waves viciously flailed against the
tender skin of her face. Water flowed
 down her nose and into her lungs. Her head was pounding, her lungs
screaming for air while her heart and her soul screamed for something
almost as essential: Mulder. 

She couldn't keep it up; she couldn't keep fighting the awesome power of
the water as it crashed all around her. She wanted to fight - she wanted
to live - but it was so very hard. She couldn't breathe. Her entire
existence shrank to the constricted openi ng in her throat as she tried to
squeeze any air into her lungs. 



Suddenly she was grabbed from above. Vaguely she registered strong hands
lifting her, pulling her up. She was passed up the side of the boat like a
water bucket in a fire brigade and more hands reached out and pulled her
up and over the railing. She was c arried quickly inside the boat - out of
the mist. 

Scully gasped desperately and someone was pounding her on the back, hard.
She coughed and water coursed from her lips and slid down her chin.
Someone pounded her again. 

(God - that hurts! ) She thought as she cried out and coughed again,
feeling water spurt from her mouth and nose and she retched violently. 

"Step back people! Step back. Give them some air, people. Come on, step
back." 


Scully heard the order as if from a great distance, but one word did
manage to capture her attention: "them". Her eyes flew open and she looked
about frantically. Mulder. He was sitting up a few feet away, coughing and
gasping, cradling his left arm. Lyin g next to him, she presumed, was the
man Mulder had saved. 

"Mulder." She called out to him, her voice no more than a rough whisper,
but it was somehow enough to catch his attention. She tried to get up as
he stared helplessly at her. She told herself that she had to go to him.
She had to make sure that he was all
 right. She was a doctor - she was his doctor. Weakly she pushed away the
hands that tried to stop her from reaching her one goal: to get to her
partner. Her body, however, betrayed her mind. Mulder's face blurred, and
the dizziness caused her to sway sic keningly. 

Mulder was already moving. Cold dread settled deep in the pit of his
stomach when he saw her knees give out and she sank back to the deck. One
of the passengers caught her easily and Mulder knew immediately that that
wasn't right. He - he would take care of her. Mustering all his reserves,
he pushed himself up to go to her and no one tried to stop him. 

He gently pillowed Scully's head in his lap and tenderly stroked her face,
cringing at how cold and white she was. As if reading his mind, several
blankets arrived and crewmen bundled Scully, himself and the guy he had
gone in after. He clung to Scully's body that was shivering in his arms as
his own muscles trembled convulsively and his teeth chattered painfully.
More blankets were piled on as he slumped over to rest his head on
Scully's. 

Exhaustion claimed him at last and he closed his eyes, pressing closer to
Scully, taking comfort as her heart beat under his hand. 


Agents Zimmerman and Palermo had each found out what had happened and
Zimmerman was beginning to think that speakers for this conference were
jinxed somehow. Personally he thought that Agent Mulder might get a kick
out of that line of thinking. He had pic ked up Palermo and they met up
with the ambulance as it was pulling into the Emergency unloading zone. 

Palermo looked positively stricken as he watched Agent Scully being rolled
past him. He had confessed to Zimmerman that he felt responsible because
he hadn't been there for her. 



Frankly, Zimmerman decided that that was a load of crap. He heard exactly
what had happened and if Palermo had been there he would have probably
ended up in the same condition. To tell the truth, he felt like he had had
just about enough of the younger ma n's infatuation of the woman who
obviously had no interest in him whatsoever. He put his arm around his
partner and guided him away. 

"Jim, I want you to go back to the Hyatt and get things going for the next
session. Have the other speakers work around this, without giving them all
the gory details. Then I want you to talk to the hotel manager and tell
him to get someone to pack Mulder and Scully's things - they're going to
need a change of clothes, obviously ." 

Jim Palermo opened his mouth to protest, but Zimmerman stopped him with a
stern look. "Just do it, Jim." He ordered, not unkindly. "I'm going to
take care of all the paperwork and notify their superior - a job I'm
certain that you wouldn't want. So you ju st go on." 

His heart on his sleeve, a despondent Agent Palermo accepted his
assignment and walked away. 

Zimmerman heaved a pained sigh and shook his head ruefully. He was glad to
have the lovesick agent gone. After everything that Mulder and Scully had
been through today, he certainly didn't want to dwell on what Mulder's
reaction would be to waking up and seeing Palermo fawning and hovering
over his partner. He had admired the man's patience that had held up
nicely up until now and knew it was due in no small part to Scully's
obvious ability to handle herself. But enough was enough. There was no
need to pu sh matters further just to see Jim's embarrassment when Mulder
took him down and out. And he had absolutely no doubt at all that that was
how the situation would play out. 


(Cold. ) That was the first thought that penetrated the fog in Scully's
brain. That fleeting thought was followed by (pain. ) She pushed past
those base impressions as awareness and remembrance came to the forefront. 

The pieces of the nightmare puzzle fell into place and she mentally
checked herself over. She felt the radiant heat of a heavy warming blanket
over her. No broken bones but her back was one gigantic ache and she
remembered her graceless fall into the wate r. 

Pressure on her right hand told her that it was being held and with a
start her eyes flew open. She blinked several times to clear her vision.
Seeing Mulder's grinning face beside her brought an identical smile to her
own. 

"Hey," he said softly. "Would you care to go swimming? I know this great
place with a waterfall and everything." 

Scully bit her lip and looked away, pretending to consider his offer then
shook her head ruefully. "Maybe later." She replied still smiling.
"Besides, it looks like you might need a little recovery time first." She
added indicating the sling that held his left arm at right angles.
Privately she was greatly relieved there wasn't
 a cast to go along with that sling, knowing Mulder's penchant for injury. 




"Oh - this. This is nothing. Just a little muscle pull, you know. The doc
told me to wear the sling for a couple of days as a precaution." He
dropped his voice to a low, seductive tone. "And don't think for a single
minute that I won't take you up on that swimming offer, Agent Scully." He
whispered enticingly at her ear. 

Still pale from the unexpected swim in the icy cold water earlier, the
blush that touched Scully's cheeks positively glowed neon. 

"Mulder..." Scully tried unsuccessfully to hide her smile. 

Mulder leaned back, but continued to lightly hold her hand in his,
stroking the smooth skin with his thumb. Scully made no move to stop him
to his personal pleasure. 

"I guess that I should fill you in on what's been going on while you've
been napping," he said with a smirk, still basking in the relief that she
was awake and seemed to be okay. 

"That would be helpful," Scully replied, a self-conscious smile tugging at
her lips under the frank stare of her partner and the unnamed emotions she
saw twinkling in his eyes. 

"Well," he began, "the guy who wanted to off himself in the Niagara River
is one Jackson Summers, the twenty-one year old son of a businessman in
Dallas, Texas. He's okay physically, but of course he's going to undergo a
psychological evaluation. His dad said that he knew his kid was having
trouble in school, but admitted that he didn't realize that it was this
bad. I did ask him if he knew why Jackson would choose Niagara Falls and
he said that the only thing that he could think of was that this was wher
e he and his wife had met." 

Scully shook her head sadly. Twenty-one years old and trying to kill
himself. 

Mulder went on. "Mr. Summers has asked that Jackson be transferred to a
psychiatric facility in Dallas so that he can be closer to home." He
stopped abruptly. 

"And what else, Mulder?" Scully asked, picking up instantly that there was
going to be more to the story. 

Mulder fidgeted nervously in his seat. 

"Come on, Mulder, let's have it." Scully prodded, using her voice for the
effective tool that it was. 

"Mr. Summers wants to thank me - us - personally for saving his son's life
and has invited us to Dallas. We're going to fly down in the company jet
that's being sent over to pick up Jackson." Mulder settled back to wait
for the fallout. He wasn't disappoi nted. 

Scully was astounded. "You're kidding, right?" she exclaimed, suspecting
deep down that he really wasn't. 

"I've already talked with Skinner," Mulder assured her. "We aren't due
back to work for a couple of days anyway. And most important of all, in
Skinner's eyes at least, is that this won't cost the government a single
penny." 

"Dallas, Mulder? We haven't exactly had the best luck in Dallas, you
know." Scully said, trying very hard not to sound whiny. 

"Come on, Scully. We're not going down on a case. No bomb threats - no
vampires. I promise." Mulder said in a wheedling voice, turning on his
'soulful puppy-dog' face full force. 

With an exasperated huff, Scully relented. There were very few times that
she could resist that face. "Oh, all right. When do we leave?" 

Trying not to sound smug at the relative ease of his victory, Mulder told
her that the jet would be landing in two hours and to allow an hour for
all the transfer paperwork to be completed on Jackson. "Zimmerman and
Palermo had our stuff sent over. You know, I'm really going to miss those
guys. Especially Jim." 

Scully rolled her eyes, not bothering to dignify that last statement with
a response. "Well, let me get up and get ready. I could really use a hot
shower." She hoped it would help the ache in her back. 

"I put your suitcase in the bathroom," Mulder said as he assisted her out
of bed. "You need any help in there?" he asked with a leer. 

Scully reached behind her to make sure the hospital gown stayed closed as
she stepped away from him. "Have I ever?" 

"Well, I keep hoping that -" Abruptly he froze. 


So did Scully. "What is it?" 

Mulder didn't answer. Instead he stepped over to Scully and stood behind
her and with one hand lightly on her shoulder, used the other to untie the
top of her gown. 


"Mulder! What do you think you're doing?" Scully protested, flabbergasted,
gripping the gown over her bottom desperately. 

"Oh, God," Mulder whispered, staring at Scully's exposed back in horror. 


Before Scully could say another word, he led her to the bathroom and
angled her so that she could get a glimpse of her back. She gasped.
Bruised. It looked like her entire back was now an ugly shade of purple.
(Well that explains a lot, ) she thought disj ointedly. 

"It'll be okay," she reassured him. "I didn't do a very good Greg Louganis
impersonation when I went in after you. I'm fine - it's just a bruise." 

Mulder didn't argue with her, but he didn't seem convinced. Scully quickly
guided him out of the bathroom so she could shower before he made an issue
of it. 

Three and a half-hours later they were in route to Dallas. Jackson Summers
sat up front with two medical personnel flanking him. He was quiet and
actually slept during the ride much to their relief. 

Mulder needed to talk. "Scully." 

She looked over at him. She sat carefully in her seat, leaning forward
slightly to keep pressure off her aching back. 

"I know you'll probably think I'm crazy, but when I was in the water, just
before we were rescued, I - I saw something." He said hesitantly. 

"What did you see?" she asked, intrigued, putting down the magazine she'd
been idly flipping through. 

"I saw the Maid of the Mist." He admitted. "She was hovering just above
the water and it looked like she was giving me something. I couldn't tell
at first, but then I realized that it was the life preservers." 

Scully stared at him. "Mulder, the Maid of the Mist is just a legend. *I*
- got the life preservers to you." 

"Hmmm. I must have been really out of it." He mused. "By the way, in case
I haven't said anything - thank you." 

Scully placed a reassuring hand on his. "It's okay, Mulder. And for the
record, I don't think you're crazy...this time." 


Mulder just grinned. 

The rest of the flight was uneventful and to their surprise they were not
flown into DFW airport, but to a smaller airstrip in far North Dallas,
closer to the Summers' home. An ambulance was waiting to transfer Jackson
after a brief, emotional reunion with his father. Mulder and Scully kept a
discreet distance. 

As the ambulance drove off, their host took a minute to compose himself
then hurried over to introduce himself. 

"Agent Mulder? I'm Lawrence Summers. Welcome to Dallas." He reached out to
shake Mulder's hand. 

Mulder smiled and shook Mr. Summers' hand. "Thank you. This is my partner,
Agent Dana Scully, who managed to save me." 

Lawrence Summers shook Scully's hand, beaming in appreciation. "You know,
I can't thank you two enough. Jackson's my only boy and after my wife died
two years ago, well, he's all I have left. The folks at the hospital have
asked me to let them evaluate hi m and talk to me before I visit." 

"I'm just glad we could help," Scully replied gently. "We appreciate your
offer to come down Mr. Summers, but you really didn't have to go to all
this trouble." 

"Just call me Larry and believe me, it's no trouble at all. In fact, it's
the least I could do." He assured them. "Let's get your things in the
car." 

Larry Summers helped them get loaded into his Ford Explorer and drove off,
thoroughly enjoying his role as tour guide. Mulder told him that they'd
only been to Dallas twice before and Larry proceeded to drive them around
North Dallas, through Carrollton, Plano and McKinney and other small
cities that bordered Dallas, itself. 

For dinner, Larry decided to treat them to authentic Tex-Mex cuisine and
brought them to a restaurant called "On the Border." Mulder and Scully
delighted in the adobe type architecture with a Mexican cowboy motif. 

As soon as they were seated, a waiter brought them a large bowl of warm,
corn tortilla chips and two small cups of a red salsa. 

"Do you mind if I order for you, two?" Larry asked. 

"By all means," Mulder encouraged him after receiving an affirmative nod
from Scully. "I don't think I'd know where to begin." He glanced at the
menu briefly then closed it and set it aside. 

"Great." He turned to the waiter. "For the lady, a strawberry Swirl in a
frosted glass. Bring us guys two Bud Lights. Then we'll need a double
order of beef fajitas." 

The waiter nodded and hurried off the fill their order. Although Mulder
and Larry started right in on the chips and salsa, Scully decided to wait
for her drink. She knew that the sauce before her could be anything from
very mild to very spicy and having h ad very little experience with
Mexican food, (real Mexican food, ) she amended, she didn't want to take
any chances. 


When the waiter returned with their drinks, Scully felt her jaw drop. The
men had each received a large frosted mug and a cold bottle of beer but
she had received a fish bowl. At least it seemed a large as a fishbowl
filled to the brim with a frozen concoction. She looked over at Larry for
an explanation. 

"It's a frozen margarita with frozen strawberry swirled through it. Go
ahead, they really are delicious. My wife used to swear by them and she
was never a fan of alcohol, especially if you could actually taste the
alcohol." He told her, smiling. 

Scully returned the grin and caught Mulder smiling at her over his beer. 

"Go ahead, Scully," he said. 

Hesitantly Scully sipped on the frozen drink and to her surprise, it
really was delicious. The sweet strawberry flavor blended perfectly with
the tart margarita and went down her throat as smooth as silk. 

"It's wonderful, Mr. Summers, thank you." She told him. Now she was ready
to sample the salsa. Tentatively she dipped one corner into the red sauce
filled with onions and peppers and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes
widened. It was a little spicy hot, b ut not so much that you couldn't
taste the flavor. Her mouth tingled a bit but one sip of her swirl quickly
righted matters. 

While they waited for their food, she listened to Mulder and Larry debate
the Houston Rockets versus the New York Knicks. Mulder teased him about
not taking up for the Dallas Mavericks and Larry good-naturedly told him
he didn't have much use for what he called "lost causes". 

At last the main course arrived. Mulder and Scully looked up in surprise
when they realized the loud sizzling that they heard was their dinner. The
marinated meat was lying on a bed of sauted onions and served still
smoking on a heated metal plate. The smell was incredible and mouths
watering, Scully and Mulder watched the wai ter set out the additional
ingredients: jalepenos, sour cream, guacamole, Pico de gallo, warm flour
tortillas, as well as beans and rice. 

Larry taught them how to place the meat and other ingredients into the
tortilla and wrap it all together. The two FBI agents caught on quickly
and the large serving of meat rapidly dwindled, as did another round of
drinks. 

Mulder was trying to decide if he had room for just one more when his cell
phone rang. With a quick apology to their host, he pulled it out of his
coat pocket and pushed the send button. Scully watched him tensely. 

"Mulder." He listened for a moment then quickly hung up. "We've got to go
Scully." He told her, disappointment clouding his features. 



TITLE:  Over a Barrel (3 of 5)  
AUTHOR:  Chapter 3 by soo 
E-MAIL: [email protected]


What?" The question was out of her mouth before she was aware of it, the
tone petulant. She stared back at him in disgust, wondering what exactly
could be calling them away with such short notice. She hoped it wasn't
another unsubstantiated UFO siting. 

This was beyond a joke. How often did they get the chance to be wined and
dined by a millionaire? It would have been nice to at least get to the
dessert menu before they were reeled back in. She giggled, lowering her
head quickly to smother the sound in h er napkin. 'Reeled in', that's
exactly what happened at the Falls - they'd been landed like a couple of
overgrown fish. 

Funny how her backache had faded out to a dull throb in the past hour or
so. She stretched and flexed slightly in her chair, and as her eyes met
the two men, she realized with some alarm that not a word had been
addressed to her in the last two minutes. L awrence Summers was grinning
widely at her over his beer. 

She blushed. Mulder just looked intrigued, a small frown of concentration
creasing his forehead. Rising above the heat of her embarrassment, she
attempted to raise a cool eyebrow at him. She failed. It felt like
crossing her eyes and she gave up feeling a
 little dizzy. 

Mulder rose and moved to stand behind her chair. He offered Lawrence
Summers their apologies for the abrupt departure, managing not to give any
further details on the circumstances calling them away beyond it being at
the express orders of the department head. 

Scully was beginning to get a bad feeling about all this 'hush-hush'
behavior. She allowed Mulder to help her climb out of her chair, she was
having some real doubts about the wisdom of consuming so many Strawberry
Swirls. The businessman took their forced departure with good grace, even
offering his private jet for an imm ediate takeoff. 

The three of them exited the restaurant with Scully still disgruntled at
the fact that hadn't even had time to quaff down some coffee. She had a
premonition that she would regret the lack of caffeine before too much
longer. They were ushered back into Lawrence Summers car, Mulder's hand
assuming its usual place somewhere in the lumbar region of her back.
Actually, she could name the vertebrae, her back pressing into his hand.
She had to use him for support as she str uggled not to lose her dignity
by tripping on the running board of the limo. 

This schedule-managing tendency was really starting to tick her off. She
knew it wasn't directly his fault, but Mulder had a tendency to just jump
up and run when a call for a case came in. Couldn't he have tried to
prevaricate just a little tonight? Ah w ell, all part of his charm she
thought fuzzily, eyeing his darkened profile against the flickering
streetlights outside the car. 

Within an hour they were in the air. Money really does talk, Mulder
thought cynically. What he would do with THAT kind of resource! He gazed
down at Scully's unusually relaxed form. She had fallen asleep against his
shoulder. 

There had been more than enough room in the jet for her to stretch out
elsewhere, but he wasn't complaining. He had never seen Scully drink
enough alcohol to get tipsy. Those Strawberry Swirls shouldn't be served
without a warning. In the 'body mass versus alcohol consumption' ratio,
Scully was a clear loser. 


It was after 11 o'clock when they touched down in Buffalo. Mulder had
gently roused Scully as the jet had approached the runway. She now stood
in the aisle with a somewhat dazed expression on her face. Mulder reached
up to wrestle their luggage from the o verhead bins. Automatically his
chore, Scully just didn't 'do' the high stuff. He never felt it to be a
burden, she was so independent in all other ways that it was a nice
sensation, once in a while, to just be needed in this basic way. 

Thinking that she was more likely to be alert and attentive after her
impromptu nap, he started to fill her in on the details of their callback
to Buffalo. They had a homicide on their hands. Not itself an unusual
occurrence, but for the fact that this particular murder had been
committed in a hotel swarming with law enforcement officers. Almost all
the attendees from their conference were still at the hotel with most not
leaving until the morning or a day or two l ater. This was a case of
having entirely too many investigators, everyone would doubtless have
their own lines of inquiry and pet theories would be foisted onto the team
in charge of the crime scene. 

Mulder felt a headache start as he related all these facts and thoughts to
his partner. 

Unsurprisingly, they were met yet again by agents Zimmerman and Palermo.
Mulder noticed a stiffening in Scully's posture as they exchanged
greetings with the two men. Jim Palermo snatched up Scully's luggage
before she could utter any objection. Mulder th ought that he heard a
muttered 'chrissakes' as she rustled past him to catch up with her
over-helpful minder. 

Agent Zimmerman added to what little Mulder had gleaned from the call he'd
received on his cell phone. Their perpetrator was an interesting case. Not
many killers would choose to commit a murder under the noses of this many
experts in the field. "Its a we ird one all right! I mean, of all the
places to pick, a Serial Killers Conference for pete's sake" 

Mulder nodded, eyebrows raised. He felt almost admiration at the chutzpah
required to commit this crime. "I think we have a classic case of a killer
wanting to be caught. I only hope its a simple job to catch this guy... is
it a guy, by the way?" 

"Forensics should tell us in the a.m. But, by the size of the victim, I'd
put my money on it being a man." Zimmerman looked pensive as they
continued towards the car. 

Mulder watched as Scully did her best to be courteous in the face of
Palermo's pointed interest. He knew she wouldn't have minded the interest,
if the man had a clue how to treat his independent, smart, sexy partner.
Subtlety was what one needed; although maybe one could be a little too
subtle, he thought. Six years was ge tting way too subtle for Mulder's own
liking. His eyes rested briefly on Scully's exposed legs... hmmm, nice.
Get lost Palermo, this one's mine. 

Palermo was holding the door open as Scully entered the rear of the car.
Without missing a beat, Mulder followed her in, grinning at her as he
settled his lanky frame in the confined surroundings. He was rewarded for
his efforts at stymieing Jim Palermo. 

Scully returned his smile, showing the barest hint of straight, white
teeth. She huffed an impatient sigh, and he saw the tension ease from her
shoulders. "That man!" she whispered into Mulder's ear. 

He leaned into her slightly, "That's no man, that's a genuine jerk." 

She smiled tightly at him and they both turned their attention to the
front of the car as their counterparts entered. 

"I wouldn't expect to do much until the morning when we get those results
back Agent Mulder..." This comment came from Zimmerman while he shrugged
his bulk into the seat belt. 

"Please, Frank, just Mulder. I much prefer it to my first name." 

Palermo barked a laugh, " Not exactly common is it? But I bet the ladies
love to use it!" 

Mulder's lip curled slightly as he glanced at Scully. Her eyes continued
to flick over the terrain visible through the front windshield. He leaned
into her once more when he saw her lips moving slightly, "...ana Fowley
seems to..." 

Uh, oh! Some as-yet-unresolved issues to plough through. He leaned back
and sighed, wishing he'd never met Diana Fowley. She was complicating his
life at the worst possible time; time he wanted more and more to spend
with Scully. 

They finally reached the hotel and he clambered out of the car with
relief. He eyed the front entrance and asked, "Frank? Can you show me the
scene?" 

With no immediate answer, he glanced back and saw Zimmerman's face go grey
in the illumination pouring from the glass doors. "You know, Mulder... I
might let Jim show you up. I'm all in. Been a long day. Do you want me to
give you a holler in the morning when I hear from forensics?" 

Scully had arrived at Mulder's side while Zimmerman was speaking. With
conviction, she touched his arm lightly and mouthed the word 'friend'. 
Oh! He hadn't stopped to consider that a man of Zimmerman's age and
disposition would naturally have many friend s and acquaintances at the
conference. Sometimes being highly focused had negative consequences. He
knew Scully would agree. 

He crossed the pavement to speak privately to Zimmerman. As he spoke he
viewed the machinations of Jim Palermo. He was unloading the luggage from
the trunk of the car, making it clear that he would be escorting Dana
Scully to her room. The body language w as nothing short of fascinating.
Did this guy know how transparent he was? Did he care? 

After apologizing to Zimmerman for his insensitivity, Mulder listened to
the man speak a little about the victim. The shock was catching up with
him and Mulder placed a hand around his elbow, steering him inside the
lobby. He would just let Palermo back S cully into a corner. The sooner
the creep got a left hook to the chin (in the exact position guaranteed to
dislocate his jaw...) the better off everyone would be. He knew Scully
would not relish having him play bodyguard, no matter how much his
instincts were screaming at him to beat off the opposition. Scully could
handle herself. Really, Jim Palermo was no threat to them. 

However, Mulder was worried about Frank Zimmerman's mental state right
now. 

They sat in an alcove inside the main lobby, behind a screen of tall
plants. "How are you doing?" 

"Mulder, I've... I mean I 'did'... know Trent Watson, for about fourteen
years. Christ!" 

It sounded like rage, but Mulder knew that it was embarrassment. Big men
didn't like to cry, however much they may need to at times. He sat
opposite the older agent, in patient, sympathetic silence. 

Zimmerman's shoulders shook with distress and he rifled his pockets,
looking for his handkerchief. Mulder pulled his own from his coat pocket,
a habit left over from Scully's battle with cancer and a superstitious
refusal, even now, to believe that mirac les could last forever. 

The older agent took it from his hand and used it to shield his face from
view. Mulder felt the man should be referred to a counselor as soon as
possible. In the interim he needed some time off. "Frank? I was thinking
that maybe you should get some rest, take tomorrow off?" 

Bloodshot eyes glanced at his face and quickly looked to the floor. 
Zimmerman's response was soft and Mulder strained to filter out the noisy
bustle of the lobby. 
  
"Yeah. I'm really sorry, I just feel useless right now. I can't seem to
get my act together..." 

"No need to apologize to me, Frank. Believe me, I have been there more
times than I can count!" He ended with a smile, doing his best to reassure
the older man as he stood and looked around for Scully. She had probably
been herded to her room by the faith ful sheepdog he thought with
annoyance. Zimmerman rose to stand beside him. 

"I got your rooms arranged a little better this time... Agent Scully's is
two doors from yours. Here's your key. Do you need a hand with the bags?
The older agent held a room key out and Mulder took it from his hand. He's
still shaking a little, he noticed absently. 

"No, that's okay Frank, Go get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow, but
stay put until I talk to you, please?" 

"Okay, I'll see you then. Goodnight." Zimmerman turned and walked through
the lobby towards the main doors. 

Mulder watched the transformation as he put on his "public face". The
experienced officer of the law; impervious. And he knew a lot of the
public would take it at "face" value too. He smiled without humor and
picked up his luggage, ready at last to find his room. He still had a
crime scene to look over and he hoped Scully w ould be available to go
with him. 

The lift chimed and he hurried into it before the doors could close on his
bag. Waiting for his and Scully's floor, his mind starting sifting through
the possible psychosis that the murderer may suffering from. Or was this a
"hit"? Maybe the victim had be en involved in an investigation that struck
a little too close to someone's vested interest. Someone who wouldn't
think twice at eliminating the threat altogether. Nothing personal, just a
canny business move. His headache went up another notch in intensi ty; too
much beer on top of hellishly active day. 

Why did the room seem so small? Scully eyed Palermo with irritation. He
was using up too much space. She supposed it was his way of compensating
for far too little personality. Her back set up a steady rhythmic throb,
the anesthesia of alcohol finally dis appearing with no forwarding
address. 

Scully made a move to her briefcase with the intention of retrieving some
painkillers. She found her way blocked by the significant bulk of Jim
Palermo. 

"So. You want to get some coffee? Or we could make some here..." He
gestured at the kettle and the tray of complimentary coffee, teabags and
cookies. It was obvious what he was after. 

"Jim, look, I think we may have a little misunderstanding here. You're
nice guy, but..." 

"Well thanks! I think you're something pretty special too."  As he was
saying this he moved up and closed his hands around her upper arms.  "Jim,
no!" I..." 

Before she could say anything else his mouth was on her's. Roughly and
efficiently she was manhandled up against the wall. This bastard was
entirely too accustomed to getting his own way. Time was doing that funny
'slowing-down-in-crisis' thing as she wen t cold with shock and struggled
to wriggle out from under him. Calm down, think straight. And all the
while his overpowering cologne singed her nostrils. He had an odious kiss
she concluded. He really didn't know WHAT to do with his tongue. The
detachment
 was helping her focus her energy, and with a final squirm to create some
room in between their bodies, she brought her knee up to his crotch with
all the power she could muster. 

Wham! 

"CHRIST!" 

He doubled over in sudden agony, eyes screwed tightly shut. Scully wiped
her hands frantically across her lips, then dashed for the bathroom. 

The need to rinse her mouth was overpowering. Turning to slam the door
behind her, she then threw lock for good measure. Hopefully Palermo would
take the hint and leave as soon as he could stand. She flushed cool, clean
water into her mouth, closing her e yes in relief. 

Where the hell was Mulder when she needed him? As if she had uttered the
thought to some roaming freelance genie, there was the sound of loud
knocking on the outer door. She shut off the water and froze, waiting to
see what Palermo would do. She heard a g runt from Palermo and sounds of
movement from the room. Then the light rattle of a doorknob and the outer
door opening. 

"Agent Palermo. Where's Agent Scully?" 

She smiled at his formality. He simply couldn't disguise the undercurrent
of dislike in his voice. 

"Uh, I think she's just freshening up in there." 

Even through the bathroom door Palermo's voice was sounding breathless and
strained. Good. She had connected solidly with her target. 

"Are you alright?" 

Do you really care Mulder? She wondered what weak excuse he would get from
Palermo. 

"Yeah, just a bit tired. Its been quite a day. Look, why don't I arrange
for you to get a look at the scene now? Its almost midnight and you two
must be wanting some downtime. I'll meet you at the concierge in
say...fifteen minutes?" 

"Sure. See you then." 

Okay, she could come out now. She'd wait until the entrance door clicked
shut, not that she was afraid of the man now... but she couldn't predict
what Mulder would do if he saw them together and managed to connect the
dots. Between Palermo's obvious disco mfort and her mussed appearance, it
wouldn't take a genius to figure it out, and her 'Mensa candidate' would
do it quicker than most. Glancing in the mirror she saw wide eyes looking
back at her and she deliberately closed them, taking a deep, calming bre
ath. 

"Scully? You in there?" 

She jumped. His voice seemed to come from a distance of two inches, he
must have his mouth on the door. The man knew nothing of personal space
sometimes. She looked back at the mirror and quickly scraped her fingers
through her tousled locks. Opening the door, she smiled, hoping to evade
close scrutiny. She strode past him as she spoke... 

"Are you all settled in, Mulder? Shall we go and have a look at the crime
scene now? Did you send Agent Zimmerman home? I was hoping you would, poor
man..." 

She paused at the edge of the bed to look back at him. No response? Oh,
no. 

His upper torso was half turned to follow her progress, but it was the
expression on his face that caused her breath to catch. All frown,
glinting eyes, and slightly jutting lower lip (oh, that lip!). 

"That bastard! Did you deck him?" 

Mensa candidate indeed. She sighed and looked at the ceiling. She really
should know better than to try and get this one past him. 

"Between the legs." 

"Ouch! Good for you." 

He moved over to stand in front of her. His palm was warm against the side
of her face. He stood for a full minute looking over every inch of her
face. Finally he met her curious gaze and she shivered. He could be so
damn intense at moments like this. 

"Are you okay?" 

She nodded, not quite trusting her voice to squeeze past the sudden lump
in her throat. His eyes dropped slightly and she knew he was looking at
her mouth. Dammit! Had Palermo broken any skin? She honestly couldn't
remember and now the whole area felt num b. She watched in dazed
fascination as Mulder bit his lower lip. 

No! Don't do that, please? His right thumb stroked lightly over her bottom
lip and he mouthed the word 'Ow'. 

Well, that answered THAT question. Shock rippled through her as she
realized it would mean checking Jim Palermo's AIDS status. Silently she
echoed Mulder's sentiment: that bastard! She suddenly found herself
against Mulder's chest, snugly clasped in his r ight arm. She looked up at
him in query. 

"You were shaking..." 

His voice was toneless, but what did he need a colorful voice for with
eyes like that? Permission to collapse, m'lady... Every muscle seemed to
unlock at once and she sank bonelessly to the bed, with Mulder supporting
her descent. She saw the alarm in his
 eyes. 

"Scully?" 

"I'm fine, Mulder" 

Oops. His eyebrow did its own version of the 'Scully Lift' and she smiled
with real amusement. 

"No, really! Just a bit of reaction. It was a bit...tense...in here...for
a few minutes. He's a big guy." 

"With a brain the size of a very intelligent flea. You really should
report him, y'know." 

Scully shook her head. Oh-no, she didn't want this whole deal made common
knowledge. She didn't care about besmirching Palermo's reputation, but it
wasn't exactly image enhancing for her either. And she didn't want Mulder
waiting on the results of any mor e of her lab tests. This was one that
she would keep to herself, if at all possible. 

He was smiling at her, as if he already knew that she wouldn't make any
complaint but just felt obliged to promote the party line. He rose off the
bed and kissed the top of her head... too quickly to lead to any
awkwardness. 

"Well, I'm supposed to see the crime scene with this ape, why don't you
stay here and just relax? I can't imagine he wants to be reminded of his
stupidity quite this soon." 

"Don't you need me there too?" 

"Its not necessary. Frank said that they've already moved the body. You
have an autopsy to do in the morning." 

Uh huh. Making my schedule again? She sighed and nodded acquiescence. Her
back chose that moment to impinge upon her consciousness and she winced at
the resurgent pain. 

"Do you need something for your back?" 

She nodded again. He went straight to her briefcase and produced a packet
of painkillers with a minimum of rummaging. How? The things that he chose
to remember... ah well, maybe there was hope for him remembering her
birthday next year. 

She dry swallowed two pills. He brought her a glass of water from the
bathroom and waited until she had drained the contents, taking it from her
hand to refill and place on the nightstand. 

"Can I have your key?" 

"Why?" 

Not the most subtle response, but she had already seen where communication
glitches could go tonight. 

"I want to check up on you when I get back, but if you're asleep I don't
want to get you up to open the door. I can leave on the table here later." 

She frowned, but couldn't see any flaw in his reasoning, at least not in
her current state of mind. 

"Yeah, okay. Its on the TV over there..." 

"Right. Goodnight then Scully, sleep well." 

He moved towards the door, snatching up her room key on the way. She was
trying to recall something, but the painkillers seemed to be pulling her
down towards sleep already. It could wait until morning. 

"G'night, Mulder." 

He flipped the overhead light off and then she heard the door open and
close. She kicked her shoes off and wriggled out of her jacket and skirt. 

Not bothering to undress further, she slid under the covers and slept. 

Mulder strode briskly across the lobby towards Palermo. The man looked
'all business' once more, he noted; still dapper and clean-. It made him
conscious of his own slightly scruffy appearance; bristling chin and
clothes that had enough elbow room for his
 sling. he knew he looked like he'd already fought and lost, but the urge
to pound Palermo repeatedly in the face was giving him heartburn. Either
that, or he had overestimated his tolerance for Tex-Mex Cuisine. 

There was an employee of the hotel standing next to Palermo. He held a
large key ring, and what appeared to be master keys for every door in the
entire hotel. They both pushed off the counter as they registered his
approach. 

"Hi, sorry if I kept you waiting long." Let's at least attempt some
civility, he thought. No sense making a hard job even harder. 

"No, that's fine, Mulder. We are at your disposal, of course." 

Hell. This was going to be just peachy. A sarcastic Jim Palermo, just
begging for it. He stared into his eyes for a moment and, gratifyingly,
Palermo broke contact first. A childish thing for grown men to do, but
sometimes it was the only way to communicate the essentials without the
constraints of polite conversation. Now he knew that Mulder knew. 

He hoped that would be enough for him to back off from Scully for the
duration. That is, if he was thick enough to believe that a swift kick
between the legs was just playing 'hard to get'. Palermo spoke up again,
indicating the man at his side. 


"This is the Night Manager, Alex Sydney. He's showing us through. The room
itself has been kept secure until Forensics are done with it. They did a
quick sweep earlier tonight but are due back after the preliminary
findings in the morning." 

Mulder had been assessing the man as he listened; a reflex borne of long
habit. 

"Mr. Sydney, thank you for your time, sir. We should be done fairly
quickly and you can get back to your duties." 

"No problem Agent Mulder. It has been an horrific business, and the
quicker you people can conclude your investigation, the quicker we will
ALL breath a little easier. Follow me please gentlemen?" 

The manager strode off towards the elevators. Mulder followed, continuing
his silent appraisal; late twenties, brown hair just beginning to go thin
on top. He was slender over a five foot ten frame, and right-handed. 

Surprisingly for Mulder, they continued past the lifts and stopped instead
before a door bearing the legend - 'Hotel Employees Only'. Mulder did like
surprises now and again, but not at midnight after an unplanned dip in
Niagara. Surely someone could have
 mentioned that the man HADN'T been killed in his room? The manager
proceeded to unlock the door, and beckoned them forward. 

"I can leave you alone for a while and come back after I check on things
at the front desk." 

Mulder looked back at him. 

"Thank you Mr. Sydney. That would be fine." 

"Please... 'Alex' will do, Agent Mulder." 

The manager smiled at him tiredly, and Mulder nodded in acceptance. 


He glanced around the room - neatly stacked storage shelves reached
upwards. Supplies of all the housekeeping items and bed linens were in
abundance all around him. Oh, wouldn't Scully just LOVE some extra
bubblebath? 

"Okay Alex, we should be out of here in about fifteen minutes." 

The man turned and walked away, leaving them to their perusal.  Mulder
glanced at Palermo and decided not to risk any further tension erupting
between them with smalltalk. Instead he chose to ignore him and study the
surrounding area in minute detail. He walked the perimeter first, looking
at the floor. He crossed the chalked-in outline of the victim during his
progress. Curious. It was
 in the corner furthest away from the door. Had he been moved after the
murder? Not likely judging by the area around it. 

There had definitely been some struggle before the man had succumbed, the
supplies on the two closest shelves had been disturbed... the floor
sprinkled with cakes of soap. 

He glanced up at Palermo from his crouched position next to the chalk
line. 

He looked bored. His eyes pointed at the ceiling in an ostentatious
display of disinterest. Yes, he was THAT thick. The last of Mulder's
civility suddenly evaporated and he was eager to be finished and away from
the man. 

"So, this door was locked?" 

"That's what they say." 


Okay. No straight answers were likely tonight then. He glanced around the
rest of the supply room as he made his way to the door, surreptitiously
lifting a small bottle of bubblebath in the process. At the doorway he
turned back one last time. Something w as tickling away at the edge of his
mind. Dammit! He was tired, and getting sore. He would do better to try
and sleep on it, let the REM do the thinking for a while. He had just
started to turn and leave when the warning reflex kicked in. He tried to
duck , but his response was slowed from a long and taxing day, and he
honestly hadn't been expecting it. 

Crunch! 

The blow connected the side of his head, not causing unconsciousness as
had been intended, but enough to send him sprawling to the floor in a haze
of pain. Instinctively he halted the groans in his throat and kept his
eyes shut, face slack. The effort caused him to break into a cold sweat.
All he wanted to do was cradle his head and rock in agony. But his only
real chance now was to fake insensibility and try to ...Something was
tickling away at the edge of his mind. 


TITLE:  Over a Barrel (4 of 5)  
AUTHOR:  Chapter 4 by CathyB 
E-MAIL: [email protected]


God, faking it sucked. 

Not because subterfuge was against Mulder's nature, but because blackness
was threatening to stop flitting about the edges of his mind and start
dragging his whole damn brain into darkness. He resisted the almost
overwhelming urge to open his eyes and give his head a clearing shake, and
then fought off the even more tempting option of unconsciousness. 

Playing dead was all well and good for the able-bodied. Mulder wryly
admitted to himself that he was not in such a state. Not with a lump the
size of Montana sprouting on his head and an arm that had been further
mangled by falling upon it. Clever, real clever. Damn, what the hell was
Palermo doing? Mulder strained to hear something other than the thick
silence, the pounding of his heart, the pounding in his head. It was eerie
to know his attacker was there, but not acting. It made him feel
vulnerable. 

Why was Palermo just standing there? Mulder forced his eyelids to remain
closed. 

He struggled to stretch his sightless senses. His ears ached from
listening and his body was tense from trying to look relaxed. What was
that bastard thinking? If he was going back to hurt Scully...? 

Then he felt it...or had he heard? The air moved, clothing rustled,
aftershave drifted in the stillness. Palermo was close. He was above. For
the coolness of concrete flooring, Mulder sensed the heat of Palermo's
body, the darker darkness of a shadow as it fell across closed eyelids. 

Finally, Palermo spoke. To himself, to the room at large, perhaps just to
hear his own voice, to feel its power. 

"So another guy thinks he can outdo me, huh? No way, bro, no way. This boy
won't give up, this boy won't fail." 

He looked down at Mulder, nudging him with a well-shod toe. "I will win,"
he muttered. 

Palermo enunciated his next words carefully, with voice as well as foot. 

"I" Wham! to Mulder's thigh. 

"WILL" Right to the stomach. 

"WIN." Into the shoulder. 

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Mulder awoke to someone shaking the bruised shoulder of his addled arm. 


"Agent Mulder. Wake up! Agent Mulder! Are you okay?" 

Mulder slowly opened his eyes. 

"No," he said to the rather blurry Alex Sydney "No. Not really." 

"Do you know where you are?" 

"Yeah," Mulder sighed. "My dream vacation in Niagara Falls. Call the
police and have Calgon take me away." 

If possible, Sydney looked even more concerned. "I'm fine," reiterated
Mulder. "Just call the police. Now. We've got ourselves an assault and a
possible lead on our homicide case." 

Mulder watched as Sydney snapped into action and wielded his cell-phone
like a madman, fingers flying. Attention thus averted, Mulder took a
moment to assess the situation, his situation. He hurt. All over. He
reached up to inspect the small mountain over
 his temple. Ouch. Levering himself carefully onto his functioning limb,
Mulder realized something was clutched in his hand - a clue? Time to
exercise those pretty little eyeballs. Work 'em while you can. Mulder
squinted at the object. 

"NIAGARA FOAMS" he read. "Exhilarating Bubbling Bath. Experience the
majesty, the mystery, and the adventure of the Falls, right in your own
tub - with Niagara Foams. Exhilarate your senses!" 

"Exhilarate, my ass," muttered Mulder. He grinned down at the little
bottle. Well, maybe it would. He was gonna have to try this sometime. It
had to be better than 'swimming' down the Niagara River in person. Scully
might get a kick outta this. He'd filch
 another bottle for her later. Or maybe this would be another "adventure"
they could share.... 

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

The Hotel 3 hours later

Whaddaya know, Mulder thought, the police and FBI could actually work
together sometimes. And efficiently. That is, if you considered almost
three hours of interviewing, background checking, and medical prodding,
efficient. 

Actually they were still working. But they'd forced him to go. After hours
of sleeplessness and with a well-battered body, Mulder didn't protest. A
bed sounded awfully good. And sleep sounded even better.  Agent Zimmerman
insisted on escorting him up to his room. Mulder felt for the guy - one
friend dead and a partner in deep water. But they didn't speak as they
rode up in the elevator. Words were inadequate, especially small talk in
an elevator. And Mulder
 knew all too well the solace found in immersing ones self in work -
during and after hard times. 

They reached the correct floor. Mulder reached into his pocket for his
room key. It wasn't there. Where the heck was it? After all this, he was
not tromping back downstairs and begging for another one. He was not. 

"Try your inside pocket," suggested Zimmerman "I always find my missing
keys there." 

Ah, there it was. "Eureka," said Mulder flatly. All his adrenaline was
gone. Despite painkillers, his bruises were starting to ache in earnest,
and his eyes were drooping. "Goodnight, Frank." 

Zimmerman smiled weakly - "Yeah right." His night had just begun. He
punched the down button. "But don't forget - I'm going to call you in two
hours." 

It was a just-in-case measure - Mulder had a mild concussion. "Thanks
Frank. I'm setting my alarm too." 

Mulder looked down at his key. He looked up at his door. The room numbers
didn't match. It wasn't his key - it was Scully's. His key was likely in
some cobwebby corner of the storeroom downstairs. But Mulder certainly
wasn't gonna go looking for it now wh en he had a perfectly good room key
in hand. He'd been planning to check on Scully anyway. He'd just be
keeping an even closer eye on her tonight. It wouldn't hurt to have a
doctor around to watch over him for the night either. 

Mulder cracked the door open and slipped inside, guiding the door so it
would close softly. The room was dark, with just a bit of moon and star
shine glinting though the window to guide his way. He tossed his jacket
and tie on a nearby chair and toed off his shoes. Tiptoeing towards the
bed he slid off his belt and unbuttoned his shirt. Finally he was close
enough to see the lump that was Scully. She looked peaceful in sleep,
young and vulnerable in ways that belied her actions of earlier in the
evening. No sign of bad dreams yet. And she only took up a small portion,
maybe a third, of the queen-sized bed. Mulder lowered himself gingerly on
top of the blankets, finally allowing his body to totally relax. 

He was so tired. 

But he couldn't help but glance over at Scullly one last time. It was nice
to have an opportunity to look at her, really look, close-up without
worrying about what it might mean, what others might think, what she would
think. From this range he could even catch a glimpse of smooth shoulders,
smooth *bare* shoulders - and hey, was that black shadow a bra strap? Too
bad he didn't have the energy to
 salivate properly. Or maybe he did. But he fell asleep before he could
think about it...too much. 



TITLE:  Over a Barrel (5 of 5)  
AUTHOR:  Chapter 5 by NicoleJ 
E-MAIL: [email protected]



Mulder woke to the faint sound of his mobile ringing. Blearily he
remembered (Frank was going to call him as a precautionary measure against
concussion.) "Frank?" he muttered sleepily, "...yeah I'm fine, see you in
the morning." 

He winced as he put the phone back down. He'd automatically grabbed it
with his bad arm, and as he woke up a little more he realized why. His
other arm was wrapped around Scully's still sleeping form. Her head was
nestled into his chest, tucked under his chin and her hand...God, her hand
was under his t-shirt and resting lightly on his belly. 

How had they ended up like this? Had he reached for her, or she for him?
Either way, he knew if she woke and found them like this he would be in
trouble. 

He lay there wondering how he was going to move away from her, and
realized quite happily that if he tried to extricate himself she would
wake. They were tangled up and he was happy about it. He slowly lifted his
head, pressed lips against her hair, and i nhaled her soft scent. He could
feel every inch where her body was pressed against his, and realized that
only his thin t-shirt was preventing flesh touching flesh. 

He sighed. For 6 years he had been denying this. In fact for the first 5
years they had been together he had denied even to himself that he felt
anything other than strong friendship and the highest professional respect
for Scully. But about a year ago he had admitted to himself that he was
completely head over heels in love with her. The only thing that stopped
him from acting on this was their s ituation; his fear that she would not
compromise their working relationship by entering a romantic relationship
with him and his even stronger, overwhelming fear that she simply didn't
feel the same way about him. 

Now here they were, wrapped in each other's arms, his hand resting on the
bare flesh of her back, and all he wanted to do was lift her head and kiss
her lips. 


Scully heard the phone ring and Mulder's voice. Did she have to wake? No,
it was silent now. She needed more sleep, but as she tried to drift back
off, something was nagging at her. Something felt different. She slowly
rose to the surface of her sleep and
 the first thing she noticed was Mulder's distinctive smell. She loved his
smell. She was warm, comfortable...and she was pressed against Mulder. 

What was he doing here? Or was she in his room? Had she slept walked and
somehow ended up in his bed? She blushed at the thought. Opening her eyes
slightly she saw her jacket neatly hung over the back of the chair. Nope,
her room all right. 

She should sit up, wake him and ask him what he was doing here. She
should. It would be the right thing to do. But he felt so good, and she
couldn't remember the last time she felt so warm and safe and ...loved. 

Well Ok, she knew Mulder didn't love her. She had realized a long time ago
that her feelings for her partner were more than professional, but it was
obvious to her that he didn't feel the same way. Certainly he flirted with
her, invaded her personal space
 and sometimes remembered her birthday, but this did not amount to love. 


In any event, they were working partners and although the Bureau Code of
Conduct did not explicitly forbid relationships between partners, it was
simply not the done thing.  Still, they were here now and she couldn't
help but relish his presence. 

She spread her fingers out slowly and pressed her hand flat against his
stomach. Soft warm flesh with the slightest down. She rubbed her thumb
back and forth, and then jumped slightly when she felt his arm tighten
around her. 

Was he awake? 

"Mulder?" she queried, still fuzzy with sleep. 

"Scully?" 

"Mulder," she said slowly, "what are you doing here?" 

"It's a long story. Do you want me to leave? Actually"....he paused..."I
don't have my room key." 

Well that explained why he was in her room. She hesitated - he couldn't go
back to his room anyway. She was comfortable. 

"No, it's ok" she mumbled. "Go back to sleep" she said more to herself
than him. 

And surprisingly, she did. 


Scully's Hotel room 7.30 am

"Mulder, what happened to you?" 

Scully was wrapped in a bathrobe and had a towel around her wet hair.
Mulder moaned as he struggled to sit up against the headboard. He ached
all over. 

"Your paramour got nasty Scully" He winced as he experimentally touched
the bump on his forehead. 

"You didn't..." 

"No, I said nothing to him about that. He attacked me from behind while we
were looking at the crime scene. Needless to say, I don't think he'll be
at work today." 

Mulder swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up with a grimace.
"I need a shower." 

Relieved that they had avoided discussing their unplanned bed sharing,
Scully called out after his retreating back, "I'll order breakfast - what
do you want?" 

"The whole menu" muttered Mulder as he entered the bathroom.  Grinning,
Scully picked up the phone. Nothing made her partner lose his appetite. 


9.30am **** Police Station

"Well his fingerprints were at the crime scene, but" sighed Zimmerman,
"they could have got there during investigation. Yours were there too," he
said to Mulder. "Forensics are following up on the other trace evidence.
Meanwhile, we've been checking into his finances, looking for evidence
that he was into something..." 

Zimmerman trailed off. "I just don't believe it," he said softly, "He was
a cocky young guy, but likeable, y'know? I just never suspected he would -
" he broke off and coughed into his handkerchief, covering up his
emotions. 

"We still don't know Palermo did anything," said Scully. Mulder's eyebrows
shot up in surprise at her defense of him. "Well, except for attacking
you," she amended. "But that doesn't mean he was responsible for Watson's
murder. Do we have any possible mot ive?" 

Zimmerman opened a messy file of papers. 

"His bank accounts checked out - nothing suspicious there- but if he was
on the take he wouldn't deposit the money into his savings account would
he? However, we did turn up some surprising stuff." His emotions under
control, Zimmerman became all business
 and began reeling off a list of assets owned by Palermo that seemed
unlikely on a policeman's wage. 

"We found title deeds to two properties, one in France. He owned a
Ferrari, which he kept under cover in his garage. I had never seen it,
although I admit that we never really saw each other socially. He also has
an impressive collection of art - Zimmerma n chuckled - at least that's
what they tell me; just looked like squiggles that my grandkid's could've
done to me. Anyway, the list goes on but the upshot is that it appears he
had a lot of extra money floating around that was being put into
investments t hat couldn't be easily traced. Now I guess the trick is to
get some concrete evidence of all this, and frankly," he said his voice
wavering a little, "I just don't know where to start." 

Scully and Mulder glanced at each other. It was obvious the strain was
getting to Frank and it was equally obvious that he would be deeply
offended if they suggested he took it easy. 

"Where do you want us to begin, Sir?" inquired Scully. "Has anyone spoken
to Mrs. Watson?" 

"Yes I spoke to her - the first time to tell her about...to tell her what
happened. She was too upset both times for me to get much information from
her. Maybe someone not so close to her would be better. I can give you her
address." 



11.00am Mrs. Watson's house

Mrs. Watson's hands shook as she poured Scully and Mulder some tea. Her
eyes were red-rimmed from crying or lack of sleep; maybe both. 

"I've already told Frank everything I know. I can't tell you anything
more.  Trent said he'd left something back at the hotel, he left at about
7.30 and .. and I never saw him again" She drew in a deep shaky breath. 

"Mrs. Watson," asked Scully "why did you wait so long to let the police
know your husband hadn't come back home?" 

"I don't know - I guess I just figured that he had got caught up with some
friends, was talking or drinking." Her voice took on a defensive tone. "I
had no reason to believe that something had happened." 

"Did your husband know Officer Palermo?" asked Mulder. 

Her eyes flickered up and then looked quickly back to the table. "No." she
said shortly. 

Mulder leaned forward to catch her eye. "Officer Palermo is a prime
suspect in this investigation Mrs. Watson. Anything you can tell us that
may lead to his capture would be very beneficial. Do you know where he
is?" 

"I told you - I know nothing about him. My husband was a good man-" she
broke off, realizing that what she said was incongruous. 

Mulder paused while he thought about the implications of what she said.
"Is that why he was murdered Mrs. Watson? Did he find out about Palermo
-did he threaten to expose what he was doingg?" 

Mrs. Watson remained silent and then looked up at Scully, eyes shining
with tears. In an instant, Scully knew what the woman was trying to hide. 

"He was involved wasn't he" she said softly. "Your husband was involved
with Palermo." 

Mutely, Mrs. Watson nodded her head. 



12.45 Police Station

Zimmerman stared dully out the window as Scully repeated what Mrs. Watson
had told them. Trent Watson was involved in a scheme with Palermo that
involved accepting large amounts of money to turn a blind eye on various
criminal activities. When Mrs. Watson
 had found out and threatened to leave her husband, he promised her he
would end it. That night he had planned to tell Palermo that it was over.
The rest was conjecture but it would appear as if Palermo did not agree
and had killed Watson rather than end his meal ticket or risk being
exposed as a crooked cop. 

"Why didn't she just tell me?" Zimmerman asked "I've known them for
years." 

"I think she was afraid of destroying her husband's reputation - for her
sake, for their kid's sake and for yours. She knew how much you loved and
respected him. Of all people, she couldn't tell you." said Scully. 

Zimmerman struggled to compose himself. "Well I guess we've got to find
Palermo before he skips the country - if he hasn't already done so" he
added. 

"I might go to his place and have a look around. Scully?" Mulder turned to
see Scully clutching her lower back, her face paler than usual making her
freckles stand out in stark relief. 

Immediately concerned he rushed over to her side. "Your back - are you
OK?" 

"I'm fine Mulder" she said, and even she had to smile at the exasperated
look that came over his face. "Well maybe not entirely fine. I think I may
have hurt my back more than I realized. The bruising is going down,
but..." she grimaced..."it hurts a lot. 
 I may need physio." 

"Let me take you back to the Hotel. They should at least have a masseuse
there - that may help." he placed his hand gently on her shoulder and
herded her out of the office. 

"Mulder, it can wait until we get back to Washington, it's really not that
-" 

"Scully, we can argue all you like, but you can't do anything in your
condition, and either you get a massage at the Hotel, or I give you one -
your choice" he grinned wickedly at her as he opened the car door and
helped her in. 

"Gee, I don't know Mulder," she said innocently, "How expensive are you?" 

He smirked, "You could pay me in kind." 

Pulling out of the car park, he couldn't help but drift into a daydream
involving Scully, vanilla scented massage oil and candles. He glanced over
at her; she was also deep in thought. 

Probably thinking about the case, he thought glumly. 

She wasn't. 


2.00pm Hotel

Scully threw her room key down onto the bed. It looked so inviting and she
briefly thought about throwing herself onto the bed as well and forgetting
the massage. No, she needed the massage. Pity it wasn't Mulder giving it. 

She picked up the phone to call Reception. 

No dial tone. 

Funny, she thought. Following the telephone cord with her eyes, she saw it
had been cut. 

Shit! She jumped up to run for the door, and was hit from behind, sending
her sprawling across the floor. Palermo stood over her, smirking. 

"So, Dana," he purred. "Are you going to be more co-operative this time?" 

Scully lay on the floor panting, her back screaming in agony. 

"Now, slowly take you gun out and slide it over to me," he said. 

With trembling hands Scully did as she was told, her eyes quickly scanning
the room for anything she could use as a weapon. She thought of Mulder and
realized he had probably already left for Palermo's house. Damn. Nobody
would suspect Palermo had the gal l to return to the Hotel. 


"Now stand up," he said roughly. "Turn around and face me. You and I are
going to finish what we started and then you are going to help me get out
of this country. And if you're very nice to me - I may let you live." 

"Palermo, why add another crime to your already long list. You know you'll
get caught eventually" Scully was surprised that her voice sounded as
strong as it did. She could feel herself shaking and clenched her fingers
so he wouldn't notice. 

"Dana, nobody blows me off like you did. Now take your clothes off." Color
drained from Scully's face. He's really going to do it. He's going to rape
me. 

"Palermo..."she began, voice shaking now, "Don't do this - you'll never
get way with it." 

"JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND TAKE THEM OFF!" 


"Damn," thought Mulder as he walked out of the Hotel. "I don't actually
know where Palermo lives - if you had a brain, boy, you'd be dangerous." 

He remembered that Scully had written down the address in her notebook and
grabbed his phone to call her. Remembering that she would probably be at
her massage, he turned to go back into the Hotel. After a few moments of
haggling with the front desk he fl ashed his FBI Badge and made them hand
over the duplicate key to her room. Sometimes that badge was a real bonus. 

In the elevator again for the second time in 5 minutes his mind drifted
back to his Scully/massage fantasy. Jeez, he'd been having that one a lot
since their impromptu dip in the Falls. He wondered if she'd ever let
him...nah. 

Besides, there was no way he could give her a massage without developing a
raging erection. 

Still grinning at the thought, he fumbled with the key outside Scully's
hotel room. 

THWACK! 

He heard a loud thump followed by a strangled cry. Had she fallen over,
hurt her back again? Mulder opened his mouth to call her name but was
halted by the low muffled sound of a male voice. 

Shit - there was someone in there with her. Astonishment was overtaken
quickly by dread when he realized that it could only be Palermo. He
pressed his ear to the door vainly, trying to hear something more. He
thought he could make out a faint cry, but may be not. Drawing his gun, he
slid the key silently into the keyhole. 

Please, let his back be to the door, he pleaded silently. 

As quietly and slowly as he could, he opened the door. He was confronted
with the sight of Palermo on top of Scully, one hand around her neck and
the other clawing at her near naked body. She was struggling, but she was
no match for his large form. 

"GET OFF HER!" Mulder leapt forward and whipped his gun across the side of
Palermo's head, the force of it knocking him off Scully. Consumed with
rage that Palermo had dared to touch her, dared to hurt her, he kicked
Palermo's prone form in the stomach, c ausing him to double over in pain. 

"Mulder, no!" cried Scully, pulling him back. When he turned to look at
her, she said more quietly, "Leave him, he's not worth it." 

She walked quickly into the bathroom, while Mulder called for backup. She
couldn't remain in the same room as that man, and she felt the nausea of
humiliation, anger and shock welling up. Leaning over the toilet bowl she
threw up. 

When her stomach contents were depleted she stepped into the shower. Right
now she needed some warmth - something to take the chill from her bones.
Only when she was under the streaming water did she allow herself to cry. 

A short while later she heard a knock on the door and Mulder's worried
voice, "Scully, are you OK?" 

She opened her mouth to say "I'm fine Mulder" and with a start realized
that she wasn't fine and more than anything she wanted to be in Mulder's
arms. 

Stepping out of the shower she quickly wrapped the bathrobe around
herself, opened the bathroom door and buried herself against him. 

She felt him wrap his arms around her and press his lips against the top
of her head. Finally, she felt warmth seep back into her body. 

"Scully," he murmured, "Did he - " 

"No," she said "But he was going to and Mulder-" her voice broke and ears
welled up, "I couldn't stop him. I always thought that if I was in that
situation I would fight tooth and nail - that it would never happen to me. 
But Mulder, I was petrified, I almost froze from the fear and I couldn't
-" 

"Scully" Mulder whispered into her ear, "you're only human, not
superhuman. He was much bigger than you." 

Scully nodded and burrowed her face closer into his neck. Without actually
kissing him, she pressed her lips into the soft skin of his neck and felt
his pulse - it was racing. She suddenly wished they weren't partners,
wished that he shared the feelings t hat she held so strongly for him. She
wanted to kiss him, to feel the comfort of his lips on hers. She couldn't
remember needing him so much. 

Reluctantly she broke away from the embrace. 

"I guess I should get dressed and make my report to Frank." 

Mulder watched her bend down and pick up her shirt. In that moment,
looking at a remaining tear drip off the end of her nose, he realized that
holding back for all those years waiting for the right moment was sheer
stupidity. For them there would never be
 a right moment. 

As she turned to walk back into the bathroom he strode forward, turned her
around and kissed her. He felt her stiffen slightly in surprise, and then
to his immense relief, melt into him. 


Scully felt her heart rate increase tenfold. He was kissing her! Her
initial reaction was to pull back ... but then....she pushed all rational
thoughts aside and opened her mouth to him. She felt his tongue, hot and
demanding against hers. His hands roamed down her back, over her bottom
and back up again. She ran one hand up through his hair, and the other
stroked his stubbled cheek. As their kiss deepened and became more
forceful she was propelled back against the wall. His h ard body pressed
against hers and she felt a jolt of electricity when his wandering hands
brushed against her breasts. She moaned when he broke of the kiss and
pulled back to look at her. 

"Mulder, don't-" 

"Ssh Scully, don't say anything," he cut her off, pressing his finger
against her lips. "I know you have a thousand reasons why we shouldn't do
this, but I have a thousand and one reasons why we should ignore your
reasons. I know this goes against protocol, and I know this is not going
to be easy, but I'm sick of suppressin g my feelings for you Scully. I
hope you feel the same about me - he broke off , seeking confirmation in
her eyes. Satisfied, he continued huskily "I know there are many obstacles
in our way Scully, but you and I have always faced down obstacles to seek
o ut Truth, and Scully, I believe this is our greatest truth. So please,
don't say don't..." 

Scully reached up and removed his finger from her lips, entwining her
fingers with his as she did so. 

"Mulder...Mulder" she repeated his name slowly, savoring it. "I was only
going to say don't stop" 

Smiling, she reached up for him and brought his lips down to hers. 

THE END. 


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