TITLE:  Nine Bads and Their Remedy: Desertion
DATE: Completed March 4, 1999
AUTHOR: Lixy (LixyQZiut@aol.com) 
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: MSR, UST, H
KEYWORDS: Character Death
SPOILERS: References to Tithonus and (indirectly) to Clyde Bruckman's
Final Repose.  
SUMMARY: Desertion- to leave one's post; to forsake someone or
something that one ought not to leave; abandonment; to leave without
permission with no intent to return; to fail someone when most needed
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and anyone/anything else affiliated with
The X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Fox networks, and Ten-Thirteen
productions and were used without permission. Oh yeah, and the
definition is Webster's. No infringement on anyone's copyrights is
intended. Duh.
THANK YOUS: Thanks bunches to RedDogg57 and ForTto (and much love
to the genius Douglas Adams) for their feedback, especially RD57 for
putting up with my billions of questions on the would-be perfection
of this story.
AUTHOR COMMENTS:  Nine Bads and Their Remedy is a series of ten
parts, which in order are Desertion, Denial, Guilt, Anger, Jealousy,
Submission, Loneliness, Insanity, Fear, and Forgiveness.
Please hang in there, kay? I promise it'll get better.

November 3, 2001
10:14 PM
Rental Agency

Scully walked across the pavement of the near empty parking lot, not
bothering to stifle the echoing clicks of her heels. The dim light of
the neighboring buildings stretched ominous shadows over her
surroundings that would invoke a primal fear in almost anyone. Scully
didn't even notice them as she fumbled with the rental keys Mulder
had given her, wondering not for the first time why she always seems
to be the one to bring the car around and pick him up. With an inward
smile, she pictured how he would react if she just took the car and
made him walk to the hotel. Resolving to one day find out, she halted
in front of the black Lexus he had described and began to unlock the
door. The keys dropped with a impromptu metallic clank as a strong
hand grasped Scully's hair and threw her onto the hard asphalt. She
lay there stunned and uncomprehending for less than a second before
sense kicked in and she reached for the safety of her gun. An
anticipating hand clamped around her wrist before she could get to
it, and natural reaction forced her to cry out in pain. Her arms were
twisted behind her, and she felt her wrists being bound with a harsh
cloth. The strength pulled her up off the ground, and she felt the
comforting weight of her gun being taken from her. A dreaded, tight
feeling of panic began to flush over her as she felt a powerful arm
wrap around her chest and another clamp over her mouth. The sound of
her gun thudding to the ground behind her barely registered in her
mind as her eye caught the glimmer of a knife in his hand. The man
simply waited in silence as she struggled uselessly against him. A
few minutes passed until she began to submit to the futility of her
attempts. He informed her of the consequences of a scream before
removing his hand from her mouth and placing a blade next to her
neck. She had to remind herself to continue to breathe as she waited
for the man's next move.
"Forever is a long time when you spend it alone," he whispered to her
with an insanely loving tone. The man kept his grip around his
unwilling savior tight and threatening.  
She began to turn around to speak, hoping for a glimpse of her
attacker's features. He tightened his grasp even more, making it
difficult for his victim to breathe. He didn't care how much he hurt
her; he knew she would always be alive in the end.
"Face front, Agent Scully." When he felt she had gotten the message,
he loosened his grip slightly to allow her to speak. She tried to
slow her desperate breaths, and made the decision to distract them
with words.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said quietly.
Scully did her best to keep a strong composure, knowing that if he
saw her fear he would only be encouraged.
Silence lasted for a few seconds, as if the man were contemplating
a piece of newly received information.
"Maybe you don't," he decided, "and trust me, you don't want to." He
pushed the tip of the knife as close to her skin as he could without
puncturing it, and was almost surprised when her body grew tense.
Almost as if she were afraid. This shocked him; it was as if she
didn't know what she had. When he said nothing for several more
minutes, she dared to speak.
"W-what do you want?" She cursed herself silently for her childish,
fearful stutter.
"I want," he shifted his grip on her to a more comfortable manner and
began to speak again, "I want what we all want. To own time, to live
in ceaseless glory and in envy of death... I want never to have to
worry about another bullet from one of you fucking cops," he stopped
for a moment, feeling his words were not making the impact that he
desired. With intent to correct that problem, he snaked his grip
down from her chest to her waist and leaned over to her ear, hovering
there until the hot breath on her skin forced her heart to pump
even faster. He spoke to her in a low, seductively persuading voice.
"I want to see enternity." He lingered there for an instant longer to
let his words seep into her mind before pulling away.
Scully allowed herself time to drag herself from the fear his actions
had invoked, then spoke. "Why are you telling me this?"
His suspicions were confirmed. So she didn't know.
"Because I want you to give it to me."
"I don't kn-"
"I gathered that," he interrupted placidly. "But it doesn't matter. 
It's simple, really.  I need you to die for me. Don't worry, though,
I don't think it hurts. And all you have to do is kill me."
She waited in silence, finding it more and more difficult to push
down the lump of fear in her throat. To her the man was obviously
insane, and she knew that insanity is the most unpredictable. She
silently prayed that Mulder would realize she's been gone for too
long and come looking for her.
"Well," he corrected himself, "not kill me, perchance. Just kind of
stab me or shoot me or something." He hadn't really thought about how
he wanted her to kill him, and filed a mental note to be more
prepared in the future.
She found his suddenly calm attitude disturbing. Though she knew it
wasn't the best approach, she decided to play along.
"I can't kill you unless you let me go."
"Yes, yes, I realize that. I just want to make sure you have the 
facts straight, so you don't try any of that good cop handcuff
justice bullshit." He tilted his head and buried his nose in her
auburn hair, breathing in the scent of his angel. Her body became
even more rigid.
"So here are the rules," he spoke gently into her hair, "I'll let you
go if you agree to..." he thought about which method he would prefer.
"to shoot me. Somewhere so I'll be alive for a minute or so before
I die. You're a doctor, you should know the right place."
"If you want to die, why don't you just kill yourself?"
He thought about her question, pleased that she seemed to be taking
interest. "Because I don't think it works that way. I think he only
comes in person when life is taken from you." He shifted his head
so that his cheek was resting with gentle technique on her hair.
Noting that his painful grip loosens when she speaks, Scully tried to
keep the conversation up. "When who comes?"
He laughed at her question, wondering why she would even bother ask;
the answer was so obvious. Despite the absurdity, he answered her.
"Death."
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to push the familiarity of the
situation away. She chanted a reminder in her head: he's insane, he's
insane, he's insane.
"Do you remember now? Nearly three years I believe it's been, that
you've been in the company of forever. Do you remember how anxious he
was to give it up, Dana?"
The use of her first name upped her feeling of discomfort. 
"It won't be long before you're his mirror," he informed her.
She forced back frightened tears, and took in deep comforting
breaths.  He's insane, he's insane, he's insane...
"And you will be his mirror. I know you, about you and your...
addiction. To that partner of yours. You can share everything but
infinity with him. What will you do when he's dead, Dana? Keep living
your life, all by yourself? Do you th-"
"The rules," she spat out impulsively to bring him back to less
personal ground.
"But these are the rules," he said with a smile as he gently
caressed his cheek against her hair. A reminder rose in his mind
that he shouldn't get too attached and he regrettably lifted his
head from hers, her small sigh of relief not escaping his attention.
"I like my rules simple." Her voice of authority was much easier to
conjure up without the heavy weight on her head.
He furrowed his brows, disappointed that his persuasion wasn't
going as he planned. "All right," he agreed. "You'll be doing the
dirty work, you can call the shots. The rules are this. If you don't
kill me I kill your partner, and then you learn just how long forever
really is."  His tone was harsh but confident, and he waited
patiently for a response. Silence filled the air for several minutes
as Scully tried to decipher his intentions. Profiling a psycho wasn't
as easy as she thought. Where's Mulder when you need him?
"Drop the weapon and let her go," the familiar voice of her partner
sounded from behind her.
The man spun them both around to face his interruption. They stared
unspeaking for a moment before a smile began to crawl along the lips
of Scully's captor. Ignoring Mulder's repeated demand, he leaned down
and whispered into her ear, quietly enough to stay out of Mulder's
hearing range.
"This is perfect, Dana," he licked his lips in thought as he stole a
quick glance at the nervous newcomer. "Just perfect, it'll make it
so much easier on you."
Scully kept her eyes focused on the assurement of Mulder's, telling
him with her stare of the man's insanity. The voice behind her
continued to explain it's excited new plan.
"Listen to me, and he doesn't get hurt," he threatened. "That's your
gun on the floor in front of us. I'm going to let you go, and reach
for that gun. Don't worry," he assured her, "I have no intentions to
shoot you or your partner. I just don't want him to know it. Now,
judging from that insurgent gleam in his eyes, he'll shoot me when I
go for the weapon. That's when he'll come, and your job is to look at
him for me. Got it?"
She didn't answer, but dropped her gaze from Mulder to the gun.
Mulder followed her shift in vision and gained a vague understanding
of what was about to happen.
"Got it?!" he repeated, louder this time.
"Yes," she replied to satisfy him into releasing her.  
"I said let her go!" Mulder's impatient voice said once more.
The man released his savior willingly, and purposely dropped his
knife to the ground. 
"Scully," Mulder urged her towards him with one hand, keeping his gun
trained on the man with the other. As the plan dictated, the
expectant criminal lunged for the weapon in his sight, and earned a
bullet for it. He fell back onto the pavement, feeling a flood of
happiness run over him as he awaited forever. He then realized where
the bullet had struck him, and his happiness was replaced with
immediate anger. To provoke Mulder further, he tried to reach for the
gun a second time, but the pain in his bleeding shoulder prevented
him from succeeding. With a desperate adrenaline born from
frustration, he stood up and began to run away from the two FBI
agents, resolving to himself to carry out the threat he had made to
his would-be savior. Mulder fired several more shots to no avail,
and his FBI attitude forced him to pursue the man.
"Mulder!" Scully called after him. She had managed to work her way
out of the restraints, and was now rubbing her sore wrists. He
turned around to look at her, concerned that she was had been hurt
and was calling for help. Hazel eyes visually absorbed her appearance
and he was convinced by her shaken carriage not to leave her, the
request she delivered next only giving him extra incentive to stay.
"Mulder, let him go." She didn't want to face the man again, because
she knew it meant facing an impossible reality of immortality she
had ignored until tonight. Mulder complied and silently walked back
to her. She examined his concerned expression, amazed once more about
how quickly he was able to change from FBI agent to a caring, loving
man. 
"Scully, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Mulder didn't believe it for a second. An "I'm fine" never worked on
her, so of course he wouldn't fall for it. He took her hands in his
and focused his gaze on her face.
"Are you alright?" He clasped her small hands in his, enveloping them
completely to share his warmth.
She made no physical move to pull away, but her emotional shields
went up almost instantly at his question.
"I'm fine." Her voice shook with the strain of untold feelings of
the fear her encounter had built.
Mulder moved closer to her and lifted a hand to cup her face. She
closed her eyes and tilted her head downward as his touch melted into
a caress, slowly and gently stroking the soft, warm skin. A pleasing
emotion of comfort welled up inside her, born from the knowledge that
such a strength could be so compassionate. Her questioning eyes
opened when his gracious touch stopped at one spot and attempted to
heal it with a loving, repetitive rub. She looked up at him with
wonderment at why he had stopped his widespread caress.
"He hit you," he quietly informed her as he continued to touch the
tender bruised area.
She had barely noticed the slight pain at her temple.
"No," she mumbled as she pulled away from him, "I... I fell." 
His worry deepened at her reaction. This was affecting her more than
it should, but he felt as if he couldn't help her. He needed to know
why she was pulling away. 
"He hurt you..." His voice trembled from the pressure of someone
unknown sympathy.
"No, I'm fine... it's just a bruise," she assured him, taking a step
back without even realizing it.
He didn't mean physically, but somehow he knew that if he told her
that she would only push herself farther away. Instead he chose a
less verbal approach to therapy.
"Scully, come here," he lifted his arms slightly, as if to embrace
her. Her shy hesitation scared him, and it shone clearly through his
eyes, despite the darkness and the shadows. The fearful emotion was
easily spotted by Scully, and her heart tightened as the thought that
she was causing him hurt. In effort to prove to him that nothing was
bothering her, she moved into his waiting embrace.
The small trembles plaguing her body cut further into Mulder's blame.
Guilt of sending her alone to get the car burned inside him; he
should have known better.
Soothing hands ran along her back, and she pressed herself deeper
into him in desperate need. She allowed herself to except his comfort
for only a few minutes more before pulling back.
"Can we get out of here?" Her voice sounded tired, weak.
He nodded, but made no move to leave as he watched her begin to walk
towards the car, stopping to retrieve the items on the ground.
Something was wrong; he could tell. Outwardly, she looked a little
shaken, but still carried herself in the same stubborn, strong
manner. But in her eyes, there was some new heavy glimmer of thought
and fear. A simple attack could never have given the Scully he knew
that look, there had to be something deeper than that. What?
Damn, I can profile every psycho in the country but I can't see into
my own partner's head.
Shaking the thought into the back of his mind, he followed Scully to
the car. 

November 3, 2002
11:24 PM
Isles Motel

Scully threw her light piece of luggage onto the floor and sat down
with a sigh on the bed. She looked longingly into the open bathroom.
A bath would soothe her, but she was too tired to bother. She kicked
off her shoes and pulled off her suit jacket, tossing it on the floor
by her luggage but not really caring where it landed. Several
exhausting minutes past but all she could do was sit on the edge of
the bed, knowing she would only get a few hours of sleep tonight, if
she were lucky. And she wasn't feeling very lucky at the moment.
Despite her predicted insomnia, she flopped backward onto the clean
sheets and closed her eyes. She adopted a new mantra for the night,
which she repeated in her mind as a lullaby. People don't live
forever. People don't live forever. I am not going to live forever.
A knock on the door conjoining her room with Mulder's broke her
mental chant.
"Scully?" The muffled voice came from through the door. "Scully, can
I come in?" She walked over and unlocked the door, revealing the kind
smile of her friend. In return she gave a weak smile before
retreating back to her seat on the bed. Mulder followed and sat down
beside her.
"So...do you want to talk?" He looked down at his hands, absolutely
terrified that trying to get her to talk might be the wrong thing to
do.
Yes, she wanted to talk. The only thing she needed right now was to
bury herself in his arms and talk.
"Um...no, Mulder. Thanks, but I'm fine, really. I just... I'm fine."
She looked up and him and smiled, as if to prove something to him. He
observed her false show of happiness. There was something bothering
her, but he knew from experience that he wouldn't find out unless she
wanted him to.
"All right. But if you need anything, you go right through that
door." He gestured to the open door. "You know I'm here for you." 
Knowing it was best not to push her into talking, he patted a
friendly hand on her shoulder and stood up to leave. 
She didn't want him to leave. She wanted anything but for him to 
leave her there alone to contemplate infinity.
He was halfway to the door before Scully spoke.
"Do you mean that?" she asked quietly, tentatively.
He turned around. "Mean what?"
"About... being there." She nervously fidgeted with the bed sheets.
"Scully..." He seemed surprised at the question. "Of course I mean
that," he said as he returned to her side, "I've always been there
for you, of course I am now." Mulder stood in front of her, waiting
silently for an answer, for her to tell him to leave, or stay.
She noted the silence, but could do nothing but nod in response. Any
word risked a rip in her strong carriage, and the last thing wanted
was to break down and cry in front of him.
Mulder sighed. "Okay, Scully." Sometimes the best medicine is to be
left alone, and he would give that to her if it was what she needed.
He began to walk towards the door once more, but stopped to speak
before disappearing into the conjoining room.
"Remember, Scully, I'm here if you need me..." he stood motionless in
the doorway for several more unusually long seconds, feeling the need
to say something more before deserting her.
"I promise I always will be," he said softly, assuringly. It was so
beautiful of a promise, so perfect and wonderful of a promise, that
all she wanted to do was embrace it and replay the memory a thousand
times over, all she wanted to do was believe it. She needed to
believe it.
Mulder watched amazed as her false expression and composure changed,
and could almost pity her as the wall she had been working so hard to
build broke away.
What was in what I said that could do such damage?
Before she realized she was crying, Mulder was next to her on the
bed, hugging her in his arms. Tears of relief rolled down her clean
skin, and clung desperately to her chin before spilling gracefully to
her lap. Needing to hold and be held, she returned the hug, weeping
her fear onto his shoulder. Mulder didn't know what to do or what to
say, so he merely held her close to him, whispering comforting sounds
into her hair.
"I'm so sorry..." she muttered through her tears. Before he could
stop her needless apology, she continued. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry...
I'm so scared, Mulder... he said, he said I would live forever, that
I would have to live without you but I can't, and I'm so scared..."
Her warm tears soaked through the cloth and dampened his shoulder.  
"People..." she pressed her palms against his shoulders and pulled
away so that she could look him in the eye. "People don't live
forever, Mulder." The statement came out more like a question, and
she silently, patiently waited for the answer. She clung tighter to
his shoulders, her heart beating as if her entire life depended on
the next words from his mouth. 
As he looked down at her tear streaked face, he saw something new and
terrifying in her deep blue eyes. Wonderment and expectation and an
immensely strong fear all together with something he couldn't
recognize... What could he say to her to bury this new emotion?
"What did that man say to you?"
It was the best he could come up with, and he immediately regretted
it when he saw her expression fall even further. He could have kicked
himself for answering her with the self-absorbed question he had
asked to satisfy his own curiosity.
What did he say to her? The question brought back the reality of
what had triggered her thoughts of immortality, and her logical mind
began to examine facts. She dropped her head in a sudden rush of
shame and embarrassment.
"Nothing, I... it doesn't matter, he's crazy, it doesn't matter..."
He lifted his hand to catch a stray tear with his thumb, and spoke to
her slowly, in a volume just above a whisper.
"It does."
She looked away from his face, and stared without seeing at the bed
sheets. Does it matter? Of course it doesn't, but then why does it
hurt so much... 
Mulder sat patiently waiting for her to speak. He had as much time as
it took.   
"I..." she broke her stare and laid her cheek once again on his
shoulder. "He wanted me to kill him, he said I could give him
enternity," she whispered.
Mulder began to slowly stroke her hair in a calming attempt. His
memory pulled up Fellig and what he knew of her ordeal with him, but
he didn't tell her, merely held and waited for her to continue.
She felt tears building once again, and wrapped her arms around her
partner's strong frame. "Mulder, he said forever is real and if I
don't die for him, if I don't shoot him he'll kill you and I'll have
to spend forever without you but I can't..."
Her heart began to beat faster and Mulder could feel it pump against
his.
"Scully, it's okay, just calm down..." he ran comforting hands along
her back, hoping that she could feel the love of his touch through
the clothing. "Calm down, everything’s okay..." He didn't know who he
was trying to assure more - himself or his partner.
He continued the motion until her breathing began to slow, and she
relaxed into his arms.
There was so much for her to tell him, and even more that she needed
to tell him. So much about fear and want of forever and of curiosity
and pain of death and of her dreams of watching the world die around
her and of helplessness... too much. A dull ache was building in her
head from the force of her earlier fall.
She closed her eyes, blocking the loose tears she hadn't even noticed
and relaxed further into Mulder.
"I'm so tired," she whispered just above a breath, and Mulder had to
strain to hear it.
Exhaustion sank from her onto him, and he could feel her heart slow
and her body grow heavy against his. When he felt she had fallen into
a safe sleep, he effortlessly and gently maneuvered her from a
sitting position, until she was lying comfortably under the sheets.
He stood at her bedside for several moments, admiringly watching over
his resting friend before a slight, familiar guilt sparked inside
him, as it always did for some reason when he was watching her sleep.
The feeling broke his gaze, and he turned to retreat to his own room.
A small, almost inaudible sigh caught him midway to the door, and he
turned to see it's source. Still immersed in a deep, much needed
slumber, Scully had shifted from her back to her side and her arm had
fallen lazily across the bed. It looked as if she were reaching out
to him.
Unable to hold back any longer, he returned to her side and squeezed
onto the bed next to her. He clasped her outstretched hand in his and
tucked it securely in the warm space between them before draping his
arm over her. Her beautiful, innocent face made no objection to his
forward actions, but still he insisted to himself that he would only
stay for a minute or so. Mulder curled down closer to Scully, and
placed a lonely, loving kiss on her forehead. She breathed another
gentle, content sigh, and Mulder could have sworn he saw her sleeping
expression light up with a smile. His face shone back at hers, and he
had to remind himself: he would only stay for a few minutes. As the
minutes melted into hours, he drifted off into a comfortable sleep,
and the last thought to pass his mind lingered through his dreams.
This is what forever should be.

Two Months Later
January 10, 2002
10:27 PM

Scully giggled a second time as her partner attempted to slurp down
a strand of spaghetti, spraying sauce in three directions in the
process.
"Mulder, when the motel manager finds little splotches of spaghetti
sauce on his wallpaper and sheets, it's coming out of your pocket."
He swallowed before addressing her. "I'll tell him it's blood," he
decided, "and get the bureau pay for it." He stabbed a meatball with
his fork and popped it into his mouth. "This is good," he said
through a mouthful of pasta cuisine, "we've gotta find an Italian
take-out in D.C."
She eyed the mess the two of them had made. "As long as we eat at
your apartment," she said before picking a file off the foot of the
bed. They had planned on spending the night discussing the case
of a serial killer they were assigned to, and Scully knew she would
feel guilty if she didn't get something done. Still, she had to admit
she was beginning to love the playful, comfortable atmosphere that
was growing between them. Mulder seemed to be treating her more like
a friend than a partner lately, and she was liking it. A lot.
"Hey Scully, watch this."
She looked over at her cross-legged partner and stifled a laugh at
the sight of him tying the ends of the pasta together. He handed her
an end and picked up the other, poising it to be placed in his mouth.
"Ever see Lady and the Tramp?" He slurped on his end, giving a
disappointed grunt when the strand broke. "Damn, not as romantic as I
hoped..."
Scully kissed her finger and pressed it to his closed lips, his
delighted chuckle acting as her reward.
"Is that all I get?" he asked as he formed his lips into a false
pout.
"Yeah, and that's all you want." When she saw he was about to
protest, she explained, "I've got garlic breath."
"I don't care, I think bad breath is sexy." He shaped his mouth into
a purposefully unattractive pose for a kiss, and gestured for her to
bring it on.
Allowing herself to smile, she ignored his insulting actions and
flipped through the paperwork on her lap. After a while she had
become professionally immersed in her reading, and without looking
away she casually reached towards a stick of bread. Her hand met a
bed sheet where her plate had been. Closing the file with an
overexagerated sigh of exasperation, she looked at Mulder, who was
still innocently sitting on the bed beside her stealing ravioli off
her plate in front of him.
"Gimme that!" She snatched the plate away from him and stole some of
his meal to compensate for the absence of her own.
"Geez, Scully. You don't have to be so possessive, I thought you were
on a diet anyway," he said in a forced tone of seriousness.
Scully raised an eyebrow. "I never said I was on diet."
"Yeah," he smiled, "but I just kinda assumed since you've been
getting a little pudgy lately, that-"
His sentence was cut short by the sudden impact of a pillow,
courtesy of his best friend.

January 12, 2002
12:43 AM

Mulder lay on the stiff, sauce-stained motel mattress, listening for
the comforting sounds that filtered through the thin wall. The
occasional shift among the sheets, content sigh or small feminine
snore made his experienced mind wonder if insomnia was more
rewarding than he had thought. Cheap squeaking springs protested as
he turned from his side onto his back, but he chose to ignore them
and instead folded his arms across his torso, hoping for more
comfort. He tensed at the thought he had awoken her when a voice
spoke from behind the wall, but relaxed accordingly as the pleased
sounds faded into a soft mumble. He smiled and closed his eyes,
satisfied to know she was dreaming about happiness.
This is perfect, he thought to himself through a cloud of drugged
tranquility. As he lay there in warm comfort, the fatigue of a night
of sleeplessness caught up with him and he began to drift off into
slumber...   Ringing.
The phone was ringing. His eyes snapped open and he sat up in a
frenzy, trying to find his cell phone through the darkness. The
memory that he had left it on a suitcase across the room struck him,
and he shot out of bed to retrieve it before the shrill ringing woke
Scully. Stifling a curse as he stubbed his toe on some unknown
object, he groped the surface of the luggage until he found the
source of the noise.
"Mulder," he said out of habit into the receiver.
"I know where he is, sir. The man you're looking for."
"What?" He brought his hand up to massage his tired eyes. "Who is
this?"
"I...I saw him at the gas station, he was walking over to Grove. I
didn't want to stop him... I was scared," the masculine voice
admitted.
"Who is this?" Mulder repeated. "How did you get this number?"
"I'm scared for my wife, too," the voice sounded monotone, flat.
"Please stop him before he hurts anyone else."
"Who is this?" He was becoming annoyed, and was on the verge of
hanging up. "What's your name?"
An impartial dial tone answered his question. He clicked off his
phone and laid it back onto the suitcase, trying to decide whether
or not to wake Scully. All common sense told him that the call was
fake, and he had figured earlier that day that the killer wasn't even
in state anymore, since the car he had stolen was reported abandoned
at an airport. Skinner had actually called them back because of it;
he said something came up that needed them, and that he would send
someone else out to deal with the killer. Their flight out was
tomorrow afternoon, and wouldn't it be great to leave with a solved
case in their pockets...
With his mind made up, he flicked on a light to get dressed before he
woke Scully. The thought of the legitimacy of the phone call struck
him once more, and he called in for a trace. He checked the clip of
his gun while waiting for a call back with the source. Even if it was
a bad tip as odds were, it would still mean a few hours with Scully.
Most likely a tired, cranky Scully, but that was fine with him. She's
cute when she's sleepy.
His phone rang, and he answered it almost instantly. He nodded to
himself and thanked the man for the information before he hung up.
The call had come from the gas station next to Grove Field... but of
course it would have to, if the man reported the sighting as soon as
possible. With the chance that the call might be worth checking out,
he braced himself and knocked politely on Scully's door to wake her. 

Grove Field
January 12, 2002
1:38 AM

"Mulder, are you sure he's here?" Scully rubbed her bare hands
together, hoping to infuse warmth.
"No, but it's worth a shot." He unconsciously imitated her efforts
to resist the cold.
Scully yawned and pulled up the sleeve of her coat for a glimpse of
her watch. "I'm not so sure. Do you realize what time it is?"
"I've got a pretty good idea." He looked down as his partner with
a chipper expression. "I'm not entirely sleep resistant, you know."   
She absorbed his noontime mood. "Could've fooled me," she muttered
as she began to trudge across the field. The snow stubbornly clung to
her boots and seeped in through the seams of her clothing, sending a
shiver down her spine. Her shudder didn't go unnoticed by Mulder. 
With an innocently stakeresque tiptoe, he snuck up behind her and
wrapped his arms around her in a friendly attempt to warm her. Scully
gasped and spun around to face her smiling assailant.
"Jesus, Mulder, don't scare me like that," she scolded. "I thought
you were him."
"Ah, you know he wouldn't dare go after a little spitfire like you,"
he said in a playfully condescending voice.
She warned him with her glare. "Cut it out and start acting
professional.  You're the one who dragged me out here at this time in
the morning because of some unreliable 'tip' on the phone, and keep
in mind that if I don't come home with a serial killer cuffed in our
back seat, you're in for a major ass kicking."
He leaned closer to her face. "I'm looking forward to it," he said
with an admiring smile. Unable to resist, he kissed the tip of her
nose before he left to venture further into the snowy field. Scully
stared after his retreating form with surprise, shifting her gaze
with embarrassment to the sky when she noticed with annoyance towards
herself how good his kiss had made her feel.
The night sky was just as beautiful as the clean field underneath it,
and she took pleasure from the sight of the glowing white moon and
the suspended glimmering stars it seemed to be protecting. The sky
was so clear tonight; she could almost see her God among the heavens.
"Hey, Scully!"
She looked towards the sound. Mulder stood a distance ahead of her,
but close enough for her to still see the detailed love in his eyes.
"Now's no time for stargazing," he teased. "Get a move on it," he
motioned with his hand for her to come join him and began to turn
around, "we haven't got all n-" his voice stopped abruptly, and if
he was facing his partner she would have been able to clearly see the
shock in his eyes. There was a man several yards before him, a man
with a familiar air about him that Mulder couldn't quite place... the
parking lot. He was the guy that had attacked Scully. What the hell
was he doing here?
"Hey!" Mulder raised an arm in the direction of the criminal as he
began to walk towards him. The man turned and started to walk into
the snow covered brush, and Mulder drew his gun as he followed.
"Hey!!" he called uselessly. "Get back here!"  The man began to run,
and Mulder followed in suit.
"Mulder!"
He turned around at the sound of her voice, continuing to back step
towards the brush. "Oh, Scully..." he thought for a split moment of
what to tell her, then decided there was no time. "Scully, wait
here," he said before turning to run through the foraged path in the
brush. This man had tried to kill her the first time; and he didn't
want her involved again. He knew a Scully patented chew-out was the
price to pay when this was all over with for ditching her, but it was
worth it.
Ignoring the scratches he was giving himself, he ran through the
light misting of trees, bushes and weeds, using the trail of broken
twigs and footprints in the clean snow as his guide. He halted
momentarily when the path split into two directions, his adrenaline
overwhelmed mind not taking the time to wonder why. Working with
blind faith, Mulder chose the left and continued on his way.   

***

Scully stood in the field, intently watching the brush that Mulder
had disappeared into. What the hell had he seen that had made him run
off so suddenly? She knew that he must be pursuing someone, and also
knew that the someone must be the killer. Who else could it be? Damn
him for trying to protect her again. She drew her gun and headed
towards the brush, as ready as ever to disobey Mulder's orders.
"I really don't think he needs help running in circles, Dana."
She spun around, alarmed at the sudden intrusion of a voice. The man
held a gun in his right hand, but it posed no threat hanging limply
at his side. Despite the weapon's outward innocent appearance, she
put both hands on her gun and aimed it at the man.
"Drop the weapon!" she demanded with authority. "Put down the weapon
and put your hands above your head!" She took a step closer to the
man she assumed to be the killer they were searching for. Her eyes
examined him closer, and it struck her that it couldn't be the
killer. Physically, he wasn't even close to matching the description,
but there was definitely something about him that warranted caution.
"The weapon is no physical threat to you, I'm only keeping it as
insurance," he informed her, not making a single move to comply to
her orders.
"Do it or I'll fire," she threatened.
Still holding the gun, the man raised his arms and stretched them
outward into an attempted religious stance.
He smiled at her. "By all means, do so. I knew death would come
tonight..." His smiled widened and he looked up into the sky. Scully
caught the insane twinkle in the eyes of the man before him, and the
memory she had tried so hard to bury surfaced again. The voice...she
couldn't remember the man's face, but his voice was shockingly
familiar to her. She began to cautiously step towards him. The soft
shuffle of her feet brought the man's attention from the sky back
down to her, and he dropped his arms into their earlier
non-threatening position at his sides.
"Let me see your shoulder."
She could have sworn she heard a chuckle as he pulled back layers of
his clothing to reveal the scarred skin. When he saw that she was
satisfied with his identification, he covered it again. Still with
her gun positioned at him, she took a few precautionary steps back.
The man laughed again. "Well?" the inappropriate happiness in his
tone made the situation seem almost humorous. "Aren't you going to
shoot?"
She made no reply, only kept her aim steady.
"What are you waiting for?" he said.
"Backup," she answered sternly.
"What, you're waiting for that Mulder guy to get his ass back over
here? I set up enough tracks to keep him busy for hours."
"Then you better get comfortable," she said emotionlessly.
His mood shifted suddenly, and he spoke to her softly and motherly.
"Dana, don't do this to yourself. Don't push away the truth, because
by the time you accept it it'll be too late, and you'll have no where
to go. Dana, this is your last chance. If you don't shoot me now,
you'll live forever-"
"Shut up!" Scully was glad that she wasn't in a vulnerable position
as she was last time, and she decided to take advantage of it.
"You're crazy!" she exclaimed more to herself than to the man,
"People don't live forever! I am not going to live forever!" Angry
and frustrated, she looked down at the snow and took one hand off her
gun, running it through her hair in an attempt to calm herself.
With the knowledge that he would have to drag his savior out of
denial, the man used her distraction to lift his gun and fire without
hesitation.

***

Mulder trudged through the brush, confused. There had been several
splits in the path, but why? Maybe they were hiking trails, but what
would the killer be doing in a field of what looks to be nothing more
then a recreational lot? He shook his head, trying to pull up the
recent image of the man he was pursuing. He looked just like the man
he had shot a couple months earlier, but maybe he was mistaken.
The thoughts swirled in his mind, causing a muffled blur. He longed
for his partner beside him to help him clear his mind, but knew it
was too dangerous...
Mulder stopped in his tracks at the sudden ringing noise of a gunshot
from behind. Instinctively he spun around and trained his gun in the
direction of the sound, and stood there motionless for a few seconds
before his panic fighting brain put the pieces together.
Gunshot. Footprints leading nowhere. Fake tip. Trap. A gunshot...
Scully.   
Worry fueled his tired body, and by the light of the moon he began to
run back to the partner he had deserted.

***

Scully pressed her small palms into the soft powdery snow to catch
herself from the fall. She looked down at the source of the searing
pain, and was almost surprised to see her crimson blood staining the
chalky whiteness. With spacious blue eyes, she looked up at the calm
gunman. The last she ever expected him to do was actually shoot her,
even as unpredictable as insanity was. Before she realized she had
dropped it, the man picked up her gun and began to silently examine
it. Breathing hard, she looked back down to the snow. Scully shifted
her position, pressing the wound in her leg against the snow in an
attempt to numb it. Her eyes closed in an effort to concentrate, and
she tried to force her mind into a state of rational logic to figure
out what to do next. The sound of the man clearing his throat
interrupted her thoughts. She opened her eyes and turned her head
to the sight of her gun being offered to her, then looked up to get a
better view. He had the gun grasped by the nozzle so that the handle
was facing towards her, and he was bowing down to her level with all
the sincerity he could conjure. He raised his eyebrows and pushed the
weapon slightly closer, urging her to take it. She snatched it from
him with her right hand, falling unexpectedly to her left elbow from
the loss a balance. The man stood up to his full height again and
watched patiently as she lay there waiting for the pain to pass. His
eyes remained on her with curiosity as she slowly rolled onto her
back, and it took all his strength to keep from laughing when she
clamped onto her weapon with both hands and aimed it towards him,
trying to look at threatening as she had a few moments ago.
"Drop the gun," she spoke hoarsely, yet with authority.
The man tilted his head and smiled at her stubbornness.
"I don't want to hurt you," he assured her.
"You have a damn funny way of showing it," she whispered, her glare
expressing all the supremacy she needed it to.
"I'm just trying to show you the truth. That wound won't kill you. I
promise you, with what you have, it'll heal in a few days, a week at
most..." She didn't reply, and he continued. "I only have one piece
of leverage over you, Dana. And it isn't your pain, or your life."
"Then put down the weapon," she said again through clenched teeth.
"I can't do that. This weapon can take a life, that's the only
leverage I have."
"But you said," her voice got caught with the threat of tears, and
she had to pause briefly to swallow them. "You said you can't kill
me." She spoke slowly, doing her best to mask her emotions.
"I can't. Don't you remember the deal? Shoot me and give me your
life, or I kill Mulder."
Scully heard rustling in the brush behind her, and knew her backup
was about to arrive. The man looked up from her to the rustling and
the expression on his face verified her thoughts. He pulled his
vision back down to meet her eyes.
"Dana," he said, "This is your last chance. The last chance you will
ever get to save his life. And your soul."
She understood what he was getting at.
"If you hurt him," she said in a voice that could scare the strongest
man, "I will put a bullet in your gut and glue your damn eyes open,
you pathetic fucking bastard."
He looked at her, astonished that she would give such an answer. He
glanced back up at the man rapidly progressing toward them. “Well
then," he said in a voice somewhere in between disappointment and
relief, "I guess you've made your choice..." He shrugged.
"I probably would've gotten bored anyway."
The man raised his gun to the advancing leverage, and Scully reacted
instantly by pulling the trigger of her weapon. Almost simultaneously
two deafening gunshots split the content silence.
Scully barely noticed and certainly didn't care as a body crumpled to
the ground in front of her. The pain that had earlier enveloped her
was suddenly forgotten, and she half ran half stumbled across the
field to her fallen friend, leaving behind her a trail of scarlet
blood. As she made the enternity of a voyage to him, a thought of
hope crossed her mind.
Maybe I can't share infinity with him, but I can damn well give it
to him.
When her endless trek was complete, she struggled into a kneeling
position on the snow beside him, gently sliding one hand under his
weight to cradle him and pressing the other against the wound under
his heart. When this was done she turned reassure her patient, but
when eye contact was made she could find no words. He looked at her
with his hazel eyes, and let her see him for all he was.  So much
sadness shone out from his eyes that she didn't think anything else
could be there, but soon found herself wrong.  They looked so
grateful and loved, and there was a fear in his eyes that seemed to
her to be accepting.  A fear of the familiarity of the situation
crept into her, and she forced herself to speak. 
"Mulder, close your eyes..." She put her bloody hand over his eyes,
and he lifted his hand to hers.  Gently clasping it, he pulled her
hand away with a determined strength she couldn't resist until he
could clearly see her tear glazed eyes once more.
Her heart painfully tore at the sight of his perfect eyes, and his
did the same at the sight of hers. But still, all they wanted was to
look at each other forever, and if only they knew how they would.
"Mulder, close you eyes... please..."
He kept his gaze steady on her, and a hot tear escaped from her. She
knew how to save him, and prayed silently to die for him.
"Mulder, please... let me save you... close your eyes," she whispered
to him as beautifully as she knew how, and for a brief moment all
he felt was happiness at the sound of his angel's voice.  He brought
his hand up to her face, and laid it on her soft skin.  He knew that
he could never let her die for him, and knew that she had to know
that with him.
"I don't deserve not to look at you."
His voice was the most comforting sound she ever could have heard,
but his confusing words stood alone as the most tormenting. She
felt his weight grow heavy in her arms, and an immediate feeling
of desertion filled her soul. She pulled his limp body close to hers,
and looked up into the sky she had admired.  She could have almost
seen her God in that sky, but now there was nothing.
Nothing but desertion.

Coming soon - Nine Bads and Their Remedy: Denial

Feedback can be sent to LixyQZiut@aol.com, and will be accepted
with extremely grateful arms.  :)
---------------------------------------------------------------------

"If you will practice being fictional for a while, you will 
understand that fictional characters are sometimes more real than
people with bodies and heartbeats."
Richard Bach -- "Illusions"

"I just think that death only looks for you...once you seek it's 
opposite."  -- Fox Mulder, Tithonus