TITLE: For All Time (1/?)

AUTHOR: Rina Stewart

E-MAIL:TimesPasst@aol.com

FEEDBACK: I'd love it.

RATING: NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Maple, Scott, CJ and the WENNers belong to Rupert Holmes and AMC. 
Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter and Fox. Words written by Rupert 
Holmes and Gillian Anderson have been borrowed.

ARCHIVE: Yes to Spooky's, Ephemeral, and list archives. No Gossamer, I'll 
submit myself. Anyone else, go for it, but I'd appreciate a link. : )

KEYWORD: Crossover, X-File, MSR

SPOILERS: XF - through and including "all things"  (7th season). WENN: 
through and including "The Importance of Being Betty" (3rd season). 

TIMELINE: According to a timeline I found on ATXC and mostly agreed with, 
"all things" takes place on June 10, and my modifications say that "Fight 
Club" happened in late July. This story is smack between those cases. 
(Timeline available to those who want it, thank you to the person who posted 
the original.)
For WENN, this story occurs after "The Importance of Being Betty," but BEFORE 
"Mr. and Mrs. Singer." Also, small revision. At this point, ignore "Who's 
Scott Sherwood." Pretend that Pruitt came later than he did and Betty never 
learned Scott lied. Therefore, Scott is still acting manager and he was 
responsible for WEEP, not Miss Cosgrave.

SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully investigate a haunted building in Pittsburgh and 
suddenly find themselves in 1941. Maple and Scott are doing a radio broadcast 
when they suddenly find themselves in 2000.

Dedicated to Jess. She knows why. LOL

~*~
May 24, 1941

CJ McHugh, radio station WENN's engineer, glanced at his watch from his perch 
in the control room. It was almost midnight, he noted wearily, pushing his 
light brown hair off of his forehead. It had been another long day. Thanks to 
Scott Sherwood's ingenious idea, he had had the pleasure of keeping the 
programming on two different frequencies going from the same station. He'd 
finally been able to finish WEEP's programming hours earlier, but even WENN's 
alone was stress inducing. He yawned as he waved at his friend Maple LaMarsh 
who had entered the studio to do the nightly sign-off.

"At the tone, the time is midnight. We'll see ya bright and early in the 
morning. Sweet dreams," Maple said as Mr. Foley, the sound effects man, hit a 
gong.

CJ flipped the power switch and leaned into his own mic. "And we're off. 
Night, guys." He bent down to grab his jacket as Foley waved and Maple 
entered the small booth. Ever since they had discovered that CJ's apartment 
was only a block past her own, they had walked home together every night 
Maple stayed to do the final sign-off.

"Ready to go?" she asked, her broad Brooklyn accent thick with lack of sleep. 
She reached up and pulled the pins out of her bright red hair, finger combing 
the locks as they fell to her shoulders. She grinned at CJ's raised eyebrows, 
knowing he had never seen her with her hair down. "Headache. Today was not a 
good day to try this hairstyle."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here, sit." Ignoring her confused look, he sat her in his 
chair and began massaging her temples. "Feel better?"

"Oh, yeah," she said happily, closing her eyes. "Just keep on doing that, 
will ya? Just like that. . ."

He laughed. "No problem." They stayed in relative silence, the only sound 
being Maple's occasional moans of happiness. After ten minutes, he finished, 
giving her a quick pat on the head. "All done."

She groaned. "Now I don't want to move," she sighed, holding her arms out. He 
helped lift her to her feet. "Happy now?" she asked.

"Hugely. Shall we?" He offered her his arm and she accepted. 

They were halfway to her home when she broke their companionable silence.  
"So how on earth did you manage to run both stations today?" she asked 
suddenly.

CJ groaned, remembering. He went through his whole day, ending with "the 
incident." Betty Roberts, the station's only writer, had been in the control 
booth watching the broadcast with him when she had asked the same question as 
Maple. At his answer, she had responded, "Gee, I would think that would be 
like trying to pat my head and rub my tummy at the same time," complete with 
demonstration. CJ had glanced over and said without thinking, "Ah, that would 
be a lot more fun for me to do." 

Maple started laughing as he asked, "Can you imagine saying anything worse?" 

"I've heard a lot worse in my time, CJ," she grinned. "You shoulda heard what 
Errol Flynn said to me once."

CJ shrugged, ignoring the reference to Maple's colorful past. "It's just the 
perfect example of how I don't know how to act with girls. I'm not like 
Scott, or Errol Flynn. I don't know what to say."

"You just need practice," she reassured him. "You're nice, and you're funny, 
and you give a great head massage. Some lucky girl is just gonna snap you up."

"Not if I can't talk to her," he responded with a game grin.

"Hey, how's this?" Maple stopped on the sidewalk, forcing CJ to do the same. 
"You need practice, and I need a date for Friday night. Lester's working, 
right?" she asked, naming their other engineer. "Pick me up at the station 
after Rance Shiloh. By the time I'm through with you, you'll be an old pro at 
this. Deal?"

CJ considered it, his brown eyes thoughtful. "Sure, why not?" he decided. 
"We'll have fun, at any rate."

"Absolutely," Maple agreed. They started walking down the street again as 
their hands found each other's. "We'll have a ball!"

~*~
June 10, 2000

Dana Scully yawned as she and her partner, Fox Mulder, relaxed on his couch. 
During their seven year partnership, they had become best friends, although 
her feelings had deepened over the years. Never knowing if Mulder's various 
come-ons and flirtations were serious or joking, she had kept her feelings 
hidden. The last two days had been an eye-opener, though. Seeing her old 
boyfriend Daniel Waterston again, as well as hearing Colleen Azar's story, 
had shown her once again that life was so short. She sighed to herself. Like 
she needed another reminder of that.

"What if there was only one choice and all the other ones were wrong? And 
there were signs along the way to pay attention to," she mused, continuing 
their conversation. 

"Mmm." Mulder considered that.  "And all the choices would then lead to this 
very moment. One wrong turn, and... we wouldn't be sitting here together."

She vaguely heard him continue, but was sound asleep by the time he finished 
his thought, her head resting on his broad shoulder. 

He watched her sleep for a brief moment, reaching out to brush away a strand 
of deep red hair that had fallen into her face. He tucked it behind her ear, 
still gazing at her face as he thought to himself once again how lucky he was 
to have her in his life. He took the blanket off the end of his couch and 
slid it around her as he eased his tall, lanky frame from under her. He 
gently brought her head down and swung her legs up so she was comfortably 
lying down before turning off the light and heading to his own bed. 

About an hour later, he was awoken by a creaking floorboard. Squinting in the 
darkness, he made out the shape of his partner walking in the room. She 
paused at the side of his bed, watching him. Taking a deep breath, she slid 
her green sweater over her head and stepped out of her dark skirt. She folded 
them neatly onto his dresser and slid into bed next to him, much to his 
surprise. 

"Mulder?" she whispered. "Are you awake?" She scooted closer to his warm body 
and he felt her breath puff onto his cheek. 

"Yeah," he responded, just as quietly. "Are you--? I mean, what-?"

"Why am I here?" she smiled as his confusion. "I don't know. I woke up, and I 
missed you. So I came in here. Do you mind?" she asked, suddenly hesitant.

"No!" he reassured her quickly. "No, it's fine."

"I think the signs are pointing me to you, Mulder," she said after a pause. 
"I saw this blond woman who led me through the past two days, and then she 
brought me to you. She turned into you, actually. I don't want to go through 
life putting everything off until it's a better time, and then find out that 
I missed that better time. I'm ready to live my life now, because I don't 
know when it will end, and you are my life. That's what I learned while you 
were in England."

She felt, rather than saw, his sharp intake of breath. "Scully, I don't know 
what to say," he finally admitted. "Thank you doesn't seem appropriate here." 
She managed a small smile in return. "All I can think of," he continued, 
"is-" 

His next words were cut off as he rolled over and captured her mouth with 
his. All of her reservations and fears flew out the window as she lost 
herself in the warm sensations of Mulder's body covering hers. As her arms 
moved to circle his neck and bury her fingers in his hair, he deepened the 
kiss. Their tongues briefly dueled before they pulled apart, panting.

"Well said," Scully grinned at him, her blue eyes never leaving his hazel 
ones. 

"It's all that Oxford education," he responded.

They looked at each other for a few moments before collapsing into nervous 
laughter.

"In all my wildest dreams, I never really thought we'd do this," Scully 
admitted. 

"So we are doing this?" he asked, suddenly serious.

Scully's fingers, which had still been playing in his dark hair, suddenly 
stilled. "Do you want to?" she responded, tensely. She wasn't sure what made 
her more nervous - the idea that he would or that he wouldn't. 

"More than anything, Scully," he quietly told her. "I've loved you for years. 
You know that."

Her face lit up in a brilliant smile. "I love you, too, Mulder." Her 
expression grew more teasing. "I told you we should have gone to a 
communication seminar one of these last years. Our communication skills 
obviously aren't up to par."

He laughed. "I say we communicate just fine, just a little slowly sometimes. 
All that counts is that we're here now, and there's nowhere else I'd rather 
be."

"I couldn't agree more," she responded, smiling up at him. 

Taking that as his cue, he once again leaned down and captured her mouth with 
his. His hands slid down her body in a light caress before returning to her 
uncovered breasts. She whimpered as his fingers teased her nipples into 
pebbly nubs, while her own kept busy roaming his body. She marveled to 
herself at the feeling of the taut muscles in his back. She had wanted to be 
able to touch him for so long, and now she finally had the opportunity. 

 Her back arched in delight as he broke their kiss to move his mouth down to 
where his fingers had been working moments before. He trailed kisses around 
the darkened skin of her areola before taking it into his mouth. He swirled 
his tongue around the sensitized skin of one before moving to give the other 
breast the same care, nipping lightly at the raised tip. The steady 
ministrations of his tongue and teeth were almost too much for her to handle 
and she tugged gently on his hair.

Mulder looked up to meet her glazed eyes and understood her unspoken words. 
She wanted more, and so did he. With her help, he lifted the white cotton 
undershirt he had been wearing over his head, sneaking in a few kisses to her 
neck as he did so. He arched his hips, allowing her to slide his boxers down 
his hips. He pulled them off and let them drop on the floor as he returned 
his attention to the woman underneath him. 

No longer content to let Mulder have all the fun, Scully took advantage of 
Mulder's raised hips to bring her hand down to touch his exposed erection. He 
moaned as her hand curved around him, her thumb gently rubbing the tip. Her 
hand squeezed tighter and the sensation almost brought him over the edge. 
Moving with a speed that surprised her, he used one hand to grab hers and 
pinned them together over her head. His mind was a blur as he moved in 
between her legs and carefully maneuvered so that his hand was poised at her 
hot, wet entrance. 

She liberated her hands and clawed at his ass as he entered first one and 
then a second finger into her sex. She bucked her hips as his long middle 
finger found her clit, moaning her pleasure. She gave a little sigh as he 
removed the fingers, but forgot her disappointment as he entered her with one 
long thrust. They quickly settled into a fast rhythm and before long, Scully 
found herself nearing the brink. Mulder, noticing her face begin to twist 
with pleasure, used his free hand to find her clit once again. The tightening 
in her lower stomach tightened even farther and she gave into her orgasm, 
letting herself ride it out as her contracting muscles sent Mulder over the 
same edge. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Mulder smiling down at 
her. 

"Hey. You okay?" he asked, nuzzling her nose tenderly.

"I'm more than okay," she said, giving him a goofy grin. "God, I love you," 
she said, almost giddily.

He laughed. "I love you, too." He rolled off onto his back, and she cuddled 
against him in the same position she as when she entered his bed. He wrapped 
his arm around her as she rested her head on his chest and they went to 
sleep. 



June 30, 2000; 10 am

"Mulder, why are we here?" Scully sighed. They had landed in Pittsburgh 
nearly an hour ago, and had just left the airport with their luggage. Rain 
pounded down on their car as lightening flashed, doing nothing to improve her 
mood.

"I told you," he said, glancing over from his place in the driver's seat. She 
looked exhausted as she leaned her head against the car window, despite the 
fact that she had slept the entire plane ride. "Talking and other strange 
sounds have been reported in a building that hasn't been used in twenty 
years. Back in the 30s and 40s, it was a radio station, WENN, but that was 
shut down for good in 1955. Most of the building was converted to a storage 
place, but they also shut down, in 1979. Since then, it's been empty."

"So how have these people heard the talking? And who are these people?" she 
asked.

"Elizabeth and Steven Miceli. They're reps from a historical society who have 
plans to renovate the building and make it into a small radio museum, based 
on old pictures of WENN. They went there to check out the building's 
condition and started hearing the sounds last week," he informed her.

"And you think. . ..what, exactly?" she asked, turning her head to watch him.

"Ghosts, Scully. It has to be," he said excitedly as she raised her eyebrows 
at him.

"Ghosts, Mulder? Why does it have to be ghosts?" she asked, getting into 
their familiar rhythm. 

"These sounds are only heard on one floor of the building, the top one, where 
the radio station was located. I've been reading into their history, Scully. 
It wasn't your normal radio station." He handed her a stack of folders, which 
she started rifling through immediately. "They actually captured not one, but 
two Nazi spies. And that was before the war even began," he said admiringly. 

"So who are the ghosts? Did the Nazi spies die there?" she asked, still not 
understanding where he was coming from.

"Well, no. No one's died there. I'm not sure who the ghosts are, but they're 
connected to the radio station, Scully. I'm sure of it."

June 30, 1941; noon

Maple glanced at her watch and hurried her steps. She had fifteen minutes 
before she went on the air, and she wanted to try and eat lunch with CJ 
beforehand. He was waiting for her in the small diner across the street from 
the station, like he did every day, and she was already later than they 
usually met. She ducked inside the door, shaking the rain off of herself,  
and found the slender young man easily.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized, slipping into the booth across from him. "I 
couldn't get away from Gertie."

He laughed, knowing full well how talkative the receptionist at the station 
could be. "Glad you could get away." He reached for her hand on the table 
past the food he had ordered for both of them, and took it in his. "I haven't 
seen you much today. How have you been?"

She smiled happily at him. "I've been good. I'm lookin' forward to tonight."

Much to their mutual surprise, Maple and CJ's first date had been a success, 
in more ways than one. Both had had a wonderful time, and CJ had found 
himself asking her for another evening out. By the end of their third date, 
they had moved past the pretense of being just friends and entered into a 
relationship. What they hadn't done, though, was tell anyone else at the 
station. Maple wasn't sure why, but both were keeping their feelings for each 
other fairly quiet. They hadn't spoken about it, but she figured they were 
both probably worried about their friends' reactions. After all, they weren't 
the most likely of couples. Maple was loud, brash, and opinionated while CJ 
tended to prefer fading into the background. He did his job quietly and while 
he certainly didn't want to be taken for granted, he was fine with only a 
little recognition. They had another date planned for that night, and both 
were looking forward to the time they could spend together.

"I am, too," he responded as Maple glanced at the clock on the wall and 
quickly swallowed the mouthful of grilled cheese she had just bitten off. 

"Oh, I have to be on the air in a few minutes! When do you go back?" she 
asked, taking another quick bite as she stood. 

"I'll come back with you," he said, dropping the money for their lunches onto 
the table before standing to join her.

"That sounds good," she smiled and leaned over to kiss him. As with most of 
their kisses, it ended much too soon. With any luck, tonight's date would 
change that, Maple hoped. 

He smiled happily at her. It wasn't just that  he loved her, he really liked 
her. They were best friends as well as sweethearts, and maybe that night, 
they could finally take their relationship to the next level. His stomach 
tightened with nerves at the thought, but he knew they were ready. Not only 
that, but despite Maple's experience, he knew she would never make him feel 
inadequate in any way. It was just that his deep-seated shyness and lack of 
experience with women made him forget that sometimes. He resolved to not let 
Maple know about his insecurities.

 He reached for her hand as they exited the diner to dash across the rainy 
street to WENN, but when they reached the elevator that would take them to 
the 13th floor, they dropped hands as if by cue. 

"So who's in the script today?" he asked her to fill the silence as they rose 
steadily.

"Just me and Scott," she responded. 

Scott Sherwood was the acting manager of the station, and he often pitched in 
on the air when necessary. He and Maple had met almost twenty years earlier 
in her Brooklyn burg. Their instantaneous attraction, despite their seven 
year age gap, made them lovers at the start, but their resulting connection 
had made them friends for life. Scott had gotten Maple the job of organist 
for the station when their original, Eugenia Bremer, had needed to rearrange 
her work schedule. After Eugenia had come back, Maple had been promoted to 
full time actress, joining the likes of Mackie Bloom, Hilary Booth and her 
husband Jeff Singer. The four of them had carried all the roles for every 
show until Jeff had volunteered to go to London and broadcast for the BBC 
from the war torn city. Scott had begun pulling double duty to help out, 
which often put him in close contact with Maple. CJ knew that that Scott and 
Maple were close, but he didn't really know how close they had been in the 
past, and that occasionally worried him. He buried this fear from Maple as 
well, however.

"Oh," was all he said. "Have fun."

Their floor came up and the operator let them out. As the door behind them 
closed, CJ gave Maple a sudden hard, passionate kiss. 

"Just a little something for the road," he told a very surprised Maple.

She smiled, sliding past her surprise easily. "I'll be counting the hours 
'till we can do more."

June 30, 2000; 12:20 pm

Mulder and Scully had checked into their motel with relative ease. Before 
leaving for Pittsburgh, they had discussed sharing rooms and other case 
protocol, and decided that they would not intentionally share a room while on 
a case. Whether that meant they wouldn't fall asleep together or ultimately 
end up sleeping together depended on the case and whatever happened during 
the trip, just like it did at home. In the three weeks they had been sleeping 
together, they had spent about half of those nights together. Mulder had 
noticed that for the last week, Scully hadn't been sleeping well. On the 
nights she was able to fall asleep, she would wake up at various times during 
the night. She refused to give it much concern, which automatically made it 
one of his. All he could get out of her was that she had had an odd dream. 
His concern over her sleeping habits made him resolve to do his damnedest to 
somehow get her into his bed that night. He knew better than to tell her 
that, though. He played along and unpacked in his own room like a respectful 
lover, all the while thinking of ways he could get her near him. 

They were supposed to meet the Miceli's at 12:30, but the couple had called 
to postpone their meeting until later that evening. They had left the key to 
the building at the agents' motel and told them to freely wander and see what 
they found on their own.  After stopping for a very quick lunch, they headed 
out in the still pounding rain to find the building. Mulder, as usual, was 
behind the wheel and easily became hopelessly lost. They had driven around 
the rainy city for nearly half an hour before Scully quietly told him to turn 
at the next corner. She continued to give him directions and within minutes, 
they were parked in front of 475 Isabella St. 

"When were you in Pittsburgh, Scully?" he asked, innocently enough, as they 
exited their car.

"I haven't been," she replied shortly, purposefully walking quickly to 
lengthen the distance between them. She was obviously uncomfortable with the 
turn of events, which made her very frustrated. Unfortunately, her goal was 
fruitless as Mulder held the key, and his long strides easily caught up with 
her.

"Then how did you know where to go?" he asked, curious.

"I don't know, Mulder, all right? Now let's get this over with." As he opened 
the main door, she brushed past him and walked through what at one time had 
been the lobby. She ignored the fact that she somehow knew exactly where she 
was going and hit the button to call the elevator. Mulder wordlessly followed 
her, opting to drop it now and bring it up later. They entered the ancient 
lift and it rose steadily, carrying them to the 13th floor. The bell dinged a 
minute later and they stepped out. As the door behind them closed, Mulder 
gave Scully a sudden kiss.

"Just something for the road," he said simply, and walked towards the door 
that still faintly bore the numbers 1313 and read WENN. Shaking her intense 
feeling of déjà vu, she followed him through the rickety doorway.

June 30, 1941; 12:25 pm

"'Oh, Billy,'" Maple read her lines, using a deep southern accent. "'How can 
you say that? You know I love you, and only you.'"

"'Ann, you don't know how long I've longed for you to say that,'" Scott 
replied, his voice throaty and sexy. "'But it's too late!'" he growled 
suddenly.

Maple gave an exaggerated scream, not seeing CJ's slightly pained expression 
from the control booth. "'Billy! No!'"

June 30, 2000; 12:26 pm

The agents walked through the empty hallway of what had been radio station 
WENN.

"I don't hear anything, Mulder," Scully told him, ducking her head into the 
long, narrow room on their right.

"I don't -," he started to say, but broke off suddenly as he looked into the 
bigger room on the left. She cocked her head at him, but he held a finger to 
his lips and motioned with his head. She raised her eyebrows, but shrugged 
and followed him into what she unconsciously called Studio A.

"Billy!" Both agents heard the faint voice and looked at each other. "Billy, 
please don't! It ain't worth-" the ghostly words were broken off by a shot, 
causing Mulder and Scully to jump in surprise. 

June 30, 1941; 12:26 pm

Maple and Scott both jumped as Mr. Foley's sound effects gun went off behind 
them. Maple sighed; she was used to the sound effects now, but some still 
managed to catch her off guard.

"Did Billy go too far and end it all?" Mackie Bloom intoned in his smooth 
announcer's voice. "Tune in tomorrow to "Passionate and Pretty," sponsored by 
our friends at Locatis Leather Products." His next words were cut short by a 
sudden crack of thunder that rattled the building and cut the power, plunging 
the studio into darkness. 

June 30, 2000, 12:27 pm

Scully grabbed at Mulder as a huge clap of thunder rattled the building and 
their flashlight beams suddenly disappeared, plunging the windowless room 
into blackness. "Mulder? What happened? Were we hit?"

"I don't know, Scully," he shouted back as the floor rattled beneath them. He 
clutched her as they fell to the floor. "Hold on!"

June 30, 1941, 12:28 pm

"Is everyone okay?" Eugenia asked breathlessly from her position behind the 
organ. CJ, who had rushed in as soon as the floor stopped shaking, noted that 
the older woman sounded shaky and frightened. 

"I'm all right," Mackie said from the darkness. "And so is Foley."

"Maple?" CJ asked frantically. "Are you okay?" He had just stepped forward 
when the lights came back on. His froze as he saw Maple on the floor with 
Scott partially on top of her and holding on for dear life. 

Scully raised her head and looked around. Instead of the dusty and dim bare 
room she had just been in, she saw a brightly lit, colorfully decorated room 
that had an organ, microphones, sound effects table, and four very concerned, 
very unfamiliar people staring at her. 

Her eyes met Mulder's in horror.

"Well, would you look at that," he said softly, his voice full of awe as he 
looked around his surroundings in wonderment. "I don't think we're in Kansas 
anymore."

June 30, 2000; 12:28 pm

Maple opened her eyes and saw Scott lying on the floor next to her. The room 
was dark, lit only by two flashlights lying next to them. 

"CJ?" she called. "Eugenia? Are you guys all right?" She reached for a 
flashlight before hesitating. "Wait a minute. These weren't. . ." Her voice 
trailed off as Scott shone his flashlight at the vacant room. It was 
obviously Studio A, but it was musty and unused. She looked at Scott in shock 
and confusion.

"Well, now would you look at that. I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," he 
said, his voice filled with wonder.

 End Prologue