A View from Hegal Place

Date: Mon, 29 Jun 1998

TITLE: A View from Hegal Place
AUTHOR: Shannon O'Connor
E-MAIL: shannono@iname.com

RATING: PG
CATEGORY: SA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully UST
SPOILERS: US5 through "All Souls"
CONTENT WARNING: Language, lots o' angst, hint of MSR

SUMMARY: Mulder reacts to Scully's decision to take a break from
the X-files division.

COMMENTS: This one sprang from one of my all-time favorite albums,
Jude Cole's "A View from Third Street." The songs are great, but
the lyrics are pretty depressing when you think about it. I
figured, hey, let's make this a post-"All Souls"/movie lead-in and
see what would happen to Mulder if Scully wanted out of the X-files
(even temporarily). It's not so much a song story as it is a story
with a soundtrack. Well, the first part has a soundtrack, anyway.
<g> (Oh, and I have the tape, not the CD, so I don't know if it's
exactly the same, but I'm going to go with it anyway.)
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, etc., belong to CC, 1013, etc. All
the song lyrics belong to Jude Cole, and they're listed at the
end. I don't have permission to use any of it. This story is mine,
though.

**********
A View from Hegal Place
By Shannon O'Connor

Mulder had his photographic memory to thank for this night, in
more ways than one.

She was gone. Well, she was leaving, and it felt like she was
already gone. He just wanted to forget, but his memory wouldn't
let him. So instead, he was going to drown his sorrows in alcohol
and depressing music. Blank out the memories, at least for the
night.

His memory had led him to the nearest record store that was open
until midnight, and he'd searched and searched, driving several
clerks crazy, until he found the CD. He remembered enough of the
lyrics to know it was just what he wanted.

Jude Cole. "A View from Third Street." Perfectly depressing music
for a perfectly depressing evening.

Then a stop by Wal-Mart for mixer and a lockbox, and a turn by
the liquor store for two bottles of Jack Daniels. If he was
going to drown his sorrows, then by God he was going to do it
right.

Back home, he unloaded both his guns and locked them, empty, in
the lockbox. The clips went in a shoebox in the back of his
closet; the lockbox key, at the bottom of the fish tank. He
locked the door, then pushed a chair under the knob.

He didn't want any temptations, or any interruptions.

The paper wrap around the top of the first bottle came off next,
and he mixed the liquor half-and-half with Coke in the biggest
plastic cup he owned. Didn't want to end up with glass on the
floor if he could help it.

Then he peeled the plastic off the CD, loaded it, and pushed
"play." He took several long swallows of the drink, wincing as
the fiery liquid settled into his empty stomach, then sat back
on the couch and closed his eyes as the music began.

<<Won't you pick up the phone
'Cause I know that you're home
Too many words have not been said for us to be living alone
Now all of the fighting, and all of the tears
Well, they don't matter now
Another night falls dark and lonely
And you're the only one that I can turn to
If I ever needed your arms to hold me
Baby it's tonight
And if I ever needed your eyes to heal me
Baby it's tonight
So come hold me close, and show me that you still care
Let's take it to where it all began and start again from there
'Cause there's no way out, as far as I can tell
I'm walking in a world of strangers
And you're the only one who really knows me
If I ever needed your arms to hold me
Baby it's tonight
And if I ever needed your eyes to heal me
Baby it's tonight ...
Won't you please, please pick up the phone, yeah
Don't leave me to face this world all alone ...>>

Mulder smiled as he drained the glass and started mixing up
another. <Yep, a perfect soundtrack for a perfectly shitty
night,> he thought.

Unfortunately, his memory wasn't letting up yet. He could
still hear her voice inside his head, patiently explaining
all the reasons why she was leaving. Too many changes. Too
much pressure. She needed a break, she'd said. Nothing
permanent.

<Yeah, sure,> he thought. Once she got out that basement
dungeon, she wasn't coming back. He knew it, even if she
didn't want to admit it.

He shook off the thoughts and drained half the glass in one
long swallow.

<<It's hard to find a reason to keep standing in the rain
I owe it to my heart to try again
Now I'm standing on the corner in a town that's hard to face
'Cause it feels like I'm drifting through outer space
So was it in, was it out
Tell me what it's all about
Problems that appear so tall
Turn out to be so small
When you're left with nothing at all
I wanna wake up in the morning
Above these lonely streets
And feel you lying next to me ...>>

Two glasses gone, and Mulder had to fight to steady his hand
as he poured the third, stronger than the last two. He could
barely taste the liquor by this time, and the mixer would
probably be nonexistent next time. Heck, he'd probably just
drink the second fifth straight from the bottle. Be a lot
easier.

A lot easier than thinking about her.

<<Heaven knows what made my heart go deeper into this love
I have tried to do what's right
But I could use just a little help from above
'Cause all I do is dream of her
Through these lonely, lonely days
And when I rise, I see her eyes and I think
Jesus, Jesus show me the way, yeah
Won't you get me through the night
'Cause I'm not strong enough to win the fight
If loving her ain't right
Just get me through, get me through the night
Before I lose my mind ...
I've been changing a little more each day
And through the dark I feel a part of me drifting slowly away
'Cause all I do is dream of her
Through these lonely, lonely days
And when I rise, I see her eyes ...>>

Clear aqua blue-green, the color of the Caribbean Ocean, swam in
Mulder's blurred vision as he reached for the bottle. <Damn, if
I could just forget that color, I might actually make it,> he
thought.

<<Through the shadows, dark as shame
I can still hear your voice falling down with the rain
Washing memories from the trees
'Till this road's covered over and lost in the leaves
Careless children, fresh as sin
I was your trouble and you were my friend
Sweet as rain on hallowed ground
And one endless summer that ended somehow
Heal the old wounds, lay me down
Take me home to hallowed ground
On the water, on the wind
Where the dream is born again
Oh, carry me home
I walked the long road 'till I found
Each step took me further from where I was bound
Bruised and broken in my soul
And longing for something that we used to know
We were chasing the gray wind
And wasting our days in the sun ...>>

Mulder held the bottle, getting close to empty, in a shaky
fist. A thought of alcohol poisoning flashed through his mind
-- he didn't have a very high tolerance for liquor -- but the
thought disappeared, washed away by another long swallow.

A ringing in his ears. Memories fading away in a drunken haze.
Sweet oblivion.

The only way his photographic memory would let him forget.

<<Well, I'm tired of losing you
I'm so tired of losing you
The way you come and go, you must be wearing out your shoes
Well I'm torn, torn in two, torn in two
And I'm looking down the tunnel of our love
But I can't see through
Just a cold dark river and a heart of blues ...
Now if you go
Then don't come back, no
If you leave me tomorrow
Honey don't come back
Get a one-way ticket baby
And just follow the track ...>>

He stared at the bottle, fascinated by the play of lights from
his stereo and the streetlights outside through the glass and
the inch of amber liquid remaining in the bottom of the bottle.
He barely even heard the music any more. He could only hear
the roar of emptiness inside his own head, the pounding of his
heartbeat.

The pounding ...

<<This is the room where I sat and waited 'till the morning
Watching the door you slammed so hard it broke the windows
Up and down, I've climbed these walls
It seems I'm trapped inside this
House full of reasons
I should be moving on
You had me believing
This is the way love goes
Off and on among normal people ...>>

**********

Scully stood in the hall outside Mulder's apartment. She could
hear the music playing. Loud. *Very* loud. But no other sounds
came from behind the door.

She'd called, twice, the second time on her way over, but had
gotten his answering machine both times. His cell phone was
apparently turned off.

She knocked again, louder this time. "Mulder?" she called.
"Mulder, I know you're there. Let me in."

Nothing. Grimacing, she pulled out her keys and selected the
one marked with his name. She unlocked the door and pushed on
it, but it didn't budge more than a half-inch.

Concern furrowed her brow. "Mulder?" she called again. "Mulder,
why is the door blocked? Mulder, let me in!" She pounded again.

**********

Pounding, pounding ... Slowly, a degree of awareness returned
to Mulder, and he realized the pounding wasn't just inside. He
looked toward the door, straining to focus through the liquor
and the darkness, and could just see movement, the chair shaking
a bit and the doorknob rattling.

"Go 'way, whoever you are," he slurred, turning back to the
nearly empty bottle.

**********

Relief whooshed through Scully at his voice, followed quickly
by worry. He was drinking. A lot, from the sound of it. And
the music couldn't be helping.

<<Everyone living in their private worlds, looking for love
It's a fashionable word, you know love
But can you show love ...
Show me now a love so deep
Take my tears away from me
Show me there is honesty
Prove me wrong
Show me there is still a prayer
For those who live in despair
Show me, is there someone there
Prove me wrong ...>>

She groaned. <Oh, boy,> she thought, recognizing the music. She
had an old cassette of it herself. Still listened to it sometimes,
when she was in a blue funk. Apparently he'd heard it, too. Great
soundtrack for depression.

<<Everyone sharing the same sun
Do you realize
It's the last thing we haven't figured out
How to capitalize
At least not yet
Do we learn from our mistakes
Is there anyone awake
Show me you're not on the take
Prove me wrong
Show me there's a chance for peace
Take my fears away from me
Show me where there's harmony
Prove me wrong ...>>

**********

Mulder blocked out the sounds from the door, concentrating
instead on opening the second liquor bottle and listening to
the music still pouring from the stereo. He'd been drinking
fast, on purpose, and the CD was still on the first time
through.

<<Through the back door, my heart pounding
Up the stairwell it's dark and dingy
I can feel the cold sweat on my fingertips
What is this power you have over me ...
And since I met you I'm a stranger to myself
Since I met you I'm a stranger to my
Stranger to myself ...
I can hear your footsteps on the floor
Devil or angel come and let me through your door ...
Well you know, darling
Since the day I met you, huh
I'm just a long, tall, dark, handsome
Stranger to myself ...>>

**********

Scully leaned against the door frame, wondering what to do
next. She supposed she could try kicking the door in, but
she might find herself at the wrong end of a gun barrel,
knowing her partner <*ex*-partner, she thought guiltily>
and his paranoia.

She sighed. She knew what was wrong with him. It had only
been a few hours since she'd come into the basement office
to explain to him why she was taking a break from the X-files.
She'd requested temporary reassignment to Quantico, to give
herself time to reevaluate her life and refocus her energy.

Basically, she just needed a vacation.

But from the moment she'd started speaking, she knew he
wasn't hearing what she was saying. He was hearing what he
*thought* she was saying.

He thought she was leaving and never coming back. His worst
fears, realized.

When she'd finished speaking, he'd just nodded absently and
turned back to his files. She'd waited for a reaction, any
reaction, but he'd shut himself off from her.

So here she was, at his apartment, trying to reach him again.
But he was barricaded inside, the door blocked in an obvious
attempt to keep her out. He knew she still had a key and
could get past the locks, so he had gone out of his way to
secure his apartment.

She sighed again. <Now what?>

**********

<<I sat on the roof as the night came down
Looking out over this pitiful town
And thought of you out there
Back in the race
Looking for someone to take my place
That's when it hit me
That's when the walls came down
You see, I never thought it could happen to us
Now we're going 'round
Breaking down each other's hearts
So go on and blame me for whatever you must
But we've become just like the ones we laughed about
This time, well this time it's us ...>>

No more sounds came from the doorway, and Mulder smiled
drunkenly as he sucked on the second bottle. "Good riddance,"
he mumbled, slouching back against the couch again.

A small corner of his brain was screaming at him, trying to
tell him that it was Scully, it had to be Scully, but he
quashed the thought down. He didn't want thought. He wanted
nothingness.

**********

Resigned, Scully grabbed the doorknob again, pulled the door
straight up as far as it would go, and shoved, hard. The door
moved open about another inch, leaving a tiny crack between it
and the frame. She worked her fingers in and touched the back
of the chair. <Good,> she thought. <He left it pushed far
enough over that I might be able to work it loose from here.>

Determinedly, she pushed at the chair with her fingers, then
jiggled the door forward a bit more. Gradually, the chair
shifted and the opening widened, until finally she could get
her whole hand through and push the chair out of the way.

She shoved the door open and stopped in the foyer. She could
see Mulder's figure on the sofa, a mostly full bottle clutched
in his hand and an empty one on its side on the floor. A half-
empty bottle of Coke sat, its lid missing, on the coffee table.
A large plastic cup sat beside it.

Scully shut the door behind her and headed toward him.

**********

<<I've been holding back words and waiting for time
'Cause there's a lesson here somewhere
I know it's mine
And though I'll remember the promise we made
Promises don't justify feeling this way anymore
It's time for letting go
We can't hide what we both know
But ooh, the hurt grows
Every time I think it's over
You've been keeping all your secrets inside
I know the truth now baby
You don't have to hide, no
But my mind wanders to the very first day
What a shame things had to turn out this way
Oh, it's time for letting go ...>>

Dimly, Mulder heard a sound behind the music, but he was
too comfortable to open his eyes or turn his head to figure
out where it was coming from. Then a hand wrapped around his
and started prying it away from the bottle, and his eyes flew
open.

He reached his free hand up to grasp the back of her neck and
brought her lips down, hard, on his.

Then it was gone, and her hand was planted in the middle of
his chest. "Mulder, stop," she ordered.

His hands relaxed, and she pulled both herself and the bottle
away from him, taking a step back and placing the bottle on
the coffee table. His head fell back against the sofa and his
eyes closed again. "Go 'way," he repeated his earlier
statement. "Leave me 'lone. Like you wanna do."

Scully sighed. "Mulder, I'm not leaving you. But there's no
use talking with you in this condition. You probably wouldn't
remember it anyway."

He snorted sloppily. "R'member," he mumbled. "Don' wanna
r'member. Wanna f'get. Damn pho'graphic mem'ry."

She smiled at that. <So *that's* the reason for the drinking
binge,> she thought. Out loud, she said, "Well, Mulder, you
need to sleep this off before we talk about it." She leaned
over to push and pull him into a semi-comfortable position
on the sofa, then removed his shoes and pulled his blanket
down over him.

"Shcully," he muttered, his eyes closed, and she leaned
down to brush his hair back from his eyes.

"Just sleep, Mulder," she whispered. "We'll talk about it
tomorrow."

He sighed, and his breathing gradually evened out. Satisfied
that he was sleeping, Scully set to work cleaning up the
remains of his little "party," recapping the liquor bottle
and the Coke and putting them away in the kitchen. She wiped
up a few spills on the coffee table and the floor, threw
away the empty bottle, and set the plastic cup in the sink.

Then she spied the brand-new lockbox on the kitchen counter,
the neon-green price tag still on the side. Puzzled, she
picked it up and was surprised to feel a heavy weight. She
shook it and heard dull thudding from inside.

She looked around and didn't see a key. <What in the world?>
she thought.

Then an idea sprang to mind. She returned to the living room
and looked around until she spied his holster. Empty. She
walked over and pulled out the drawer where she knew he
normally kept his backup weapon. Also empty.

She smiled wryly. He wasn't taking chances with himself in a
drunk and depressed state. He'd locked away his weapons, and
probably hidden the key.

Well, at least she felt a little better. He wasn't quite
suicidal about it.

She looked back at him, relieved to see him still sleeping.
Just in case, she grabbed the plastic trash can from his
bathroom and a trash bag from the kitchen. She dumped the
few items in the can into the kitchen trash, then lined the
can with the clean bag and put it on the floor next to him.
She gathered a glass of water and dug up an almost-empty
bottle of aspirin from his medicine cabinet, setting them
on the coffee table near him.

Then she settled into the chair across from the sofa to
wait.

***********

Mulder came awake slowly, feeling like his eyes had been glued
shut and his head beaten against the wall for several hours.
His stomach wasn't much better, although he supposed he could
move a bit without completely losing it.

He was lying flat on his back, and he half-expected to open
his eyes to the stark white of a hospital room. But he did
recognize the sensation of his sofa's soft leather against his
skin, and besides, he couldn't quite remember anything that
would have led to a hospital stay.

Come to think of it, he couldn't remember much of anything at
all.

Slowly, agonizingly, he pulled his reluctant eyelids half-open
and was met with the ceiling of his apartment, but only dim
light seeping in through the window. Thank goodness. Just the
small glow was enough to double the pain in his head.

Groaning, he rolled slowly onto his side, and froze. There,
curled up asleep in the chair across the room, was his partner.

<*Ex*-partner.>

The memories slammed back into him, or at least the reasons for
his drinking binge. Everything past the second drink was a blur,
although he did have a vague recollection of Scully leaning over
him.

And ... a kiss?

He groaned again as the pain from his head shot through the rest
of his body. Now, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't be sick.

He must have made more noise than he thought. Or maybe she just
wasn't sleeping that soundly. Either way, before he could move
again, she was there, leaning over him. "Mulder," she said
softly, knowing anything louder would be painful. "How are you
feeling?"

He grunted. "Like I just got run over by a truck." Then,
sarcastically, "Or just lost my partner again."

<Well, at least he's sober enough to remember,> she thought,
sitting back on her heels and reaching for the aspirin. "Here,
Mulder, take some aspirin."

He didn't argue. His head was still pounding, and he'd do
almost anything to make it stop.

After he swallowed the pills and water, though, he laid back
on the sofa and closed his eyes. "Go away, Scully," he
muttered. "I don't need your pity."

Scully stiffened, but forced herself not to snap at him. <He's
upset and doesn't mean what he's saying,> she told herself. To
him, using a mild tone, she said, "It's not pity, Mulder. You
brought the hangover on yourself. But I know why you did it,
and I'm going to talk to you once the headache's gone, whether
you like it or not." She stood up. "It's almost seven now, so
you finish sleeping it off, and I'll be back around noon with
lunch. I'll tell Skinner you're sick."

She headed for the door, half-expecting him to make another
snide comment. But he was silent, and she looked back to see
he'd already fallen back asleep.

<Good,> she thought, heading for home.

**********

Mulder awoke again several hours later, squinting at the
sunshine streaming through his window. He leaned up to check
the clock -- 11:27.

Vaguely, he remembered Scully saying she was going to report
him sick and come by with lunch. He still didn't feel like
talking to her, but the shock and anger from the previous day
had dulled, and he didn't really want to make things worse
than they already were. So he resolved to listen to what she
was going to say.

Like she was going to give him a choice anyway.

He slowly rose from the sofa, standing still for a moment to
regain his equilibrium. His headache had eased and he no
longer felt like his stomach was trying to climb out of his
body through his esophagus, so he headed for the shower.

A half-hour later, showered, shaved, and dressed in clean
jeans and a t-shirt, he felt almost human, and his stomach
was actually starting to growl. <After all,> he thought,
<it *is* noon, and I missed breakfast.>

He was just thinking of making some toast to tide him over
until Scully got there, when he heard a knock at the door.

He padded across the floor in his bare feet, pulling open the
door to reveal his partner, dressed in her standard business
suit and holding a brown paper bag and a cupholder with two
drinks in it.

He instinctively reached for the drinks, then stepped back
and motioned her into the living room. She walked in, Mulder
following, and they each set their packages on the coffee
table and then sat, him on sofa, her in the chair.

Mulder unrolled the top of the bag and peered in to see two
large cups of soup and a small bag of oyster crackers. He
unloaded the items, then glanced up at Scully, who still
hadn't spoken and was simply watching him, a guarded
expression on her face.

"Which one is yours?" he finally asked.

"They're both tomato," she replied. "I know it's not your
favorite, but I figured your stomach would appreciate
something bland." She accepted the cup and spoon he offered
her, then added, "And the drinks are both Sprite, for the
same reason."

He nodded, then passed her a drink, a straw, and a couple of
napkins before setting into his soup. He added a handful of
crackers and ate several spoonfuls, slowly, to be sure his
stomach was indeed all right.

Satisfied that he was going to keep the light meal down, he
continued until the soup was nearly gone, sipping the Sprite
between bites. Finally, he took a last sponful, set the
remnants of the soup back on the table, and wiped his mouth.
Leaning back against the cushions, he ran a hand through his
still-damp hair and looked at Scully.

She had put her soup aside after just a few spoonfuls and
sat sipping her drink and watching him.

"You need to eat too, Scully," Mulder said.

She took another sip of Sprite, then put the cup on the table
next to her uneaten soup. "I'm not hungry, Mulder," she said.
"And I didn't come here for lunch."

Mulder felt his mind and body rebel at the thought of the
discussion he knew was coming, and all his defenses came up
at once. He turned his eyes to an indiscriminate point on the
wall to her right and blew out a breath. "Then what *did* you
come here for, Scully?" he asked in a bland tone.

She stared at him, then slowly shook her head. "You know,
sometimes you really amaze me, Mulder," she said. "You can be
so infuriatingly *dense*!"

That caught his attention, and his eyes returned to burn into
hers. "Dense?" he spat out. "Oh, gee, thanks. That goes along
real well with 'Spooky.' I'm sure your new co-workers will
*love* hearing all the stories about your crazy, hard-headed,
*former* partner."

Scully didn't speak for a moment, but when she did, her voice
was steady and calm. "I'm not going to do this, Mulder," she
said. "I'm not going to get into a bout of name-calling with
you. That's not why I'm here, either."

He started to speak again, but she held up a hand. "No,
Mulder," she said. "I came here to talk to you, and that's
what I'm going to do. I'm not leaving until I'm sure you've
heard me out, so you might as well listen to me the first
time. *Then* you can talk." She paused, holding his gaze
until he relented and nodded.

He recognized that look. That look could scare the most evil
serial killer. And had, several times, as he recalled.

She knew he was listening, so she continued, her eyes never
leaving his. "First of all, I'm going to ignore last night.
Getting drunk was stupid, but I'm not going to hold you
responsible for anything you said or did."

She managed not to smile as a small wave of relief passed
over his face. <Guess he remembered the kiss,> she thought.
Out loud, she said, "But I came here today to tell you that
I am *not* deserting you, no matter what you might think. I
asked for temporary reassignment, but I am doing nothing
more or less than taking a vacation."

He shot her an unbelieving look, one of the few he had in his
repertoire, but she didn't back down. "We have both been under
a lot of stress for the past year, Mulder," she said. "For
longer than that, really -- and I think we could use a break.
Not just from the X-files, but from each other." She leaned
forward. "From each other *professionally*, Mulder. I may not
be your partner for while, but I still want to be your friend."

At this, he looked away, and she sighed but went on. "Truth is,
I think we *both* need a break from the X-files, but I know I'd
never convince you to step away. So the next best thing was for
me to transfer. Temporarily, Mulder. I never had any intention
of leaving permanently."

He still wouldn't look at her, but she kept talking. "These
last few months have been hard on both of us, Mulder. You know
what happened a few weeks ago. When I saw Emily."

That got his attention, and when their eyes met, she could
seen her pain mirrored in his. "That really shook me up,
Mulder. And I realized I had never mourned for Emily. I never
let myself grieve, and it was slowly eating away at me."

She looked down at her hands. "I didn't tell you, but I went
to confession after the last girl died. I told the priest
everything, the whole story. What I saw. What I did. About
Emily. About how I couldn't reconcile Roberta's physical death
with my belief that I had helped save her soul. And what he
said to me made me realize that I still had a lot to deal
with."

She looked up to find his eyes still on her. "He said ... he
asked me if I could accept my loss." Her voice cracked
slightly, and she paused, closing her eyes and swallowing
hard to regain control.

Mulder started to lift his hand toward her, then stopped and
let it drop back to his side. He finally cleared his throat
softly, then spoke. "What did you say?" he whispered.

She lifted her eyes back to his. "I said, 'Maybe that's what
faith is.'"

Silence reigned for a few long moments, and then Scully
shifted in her seat, leaning toward him again. "This has
nothing to do with you, Mulder, and nothing to do with me.
It's us. Our partnership. I don't mean that there's anything
*wrong* with our partnership. Quite the opposite, in fact.
And that's become the problem. We know each other *too* well.
I know just how much my problems can affect you, and you
know how much yours affect me. So we're always trying to
hide those things, trying to protect each other. But we
spend so much time protecting each other that we never deal
with our problems ourselves. The result is that we're
starting to get on each other's nerves. I'm trying to keep
that from escalating into an all-out battle, Mulder. I'm
doing this to *save* our partnership, not destroy it."

She smiled a bit. "I'm not going far, either, just to Quantico.
You're welcome to consult with me on any cases you want. And
you don't even have to sneak around to do it."

She leaned back, still watching his reactions. He was still
listening, at least, so she finished what she wanted to say.
"So that's why I'm transferring, Mulder. So I can come back in
a couple of months, and we can pick up where we left off, I
hope. I'm not cutting you out of my life." She hazarded another
half-smile. "I don't think I could do that if I tried."

She paused again, then said, "Okay, Mulder, that's what I came
to say." She tilted her head and looked him in the eye. "Any
comments?"

Mulder didn't move, but then one corner of his mouth rose
slightly, and she knew everything was going to work out fine.
"One," he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

His smile grew into an all-out grin. "This time, if any
flukemen turn up, *you're* going into the sewer!"

**********END**********

Set list (sorry, Punk, had to borrow that idea):
"Baby, It's Tonight"
"Compared To Nothing"
"Get Me Through The Night"
"Hallowed Ground"
"Heart Of Blues"
"House Full Of Reasons"
"Prove Me Wrong"
"Stranger To Myself"
"This Time It's Us"
"Time For Letting Go"

"If I quit now, they win." -- Mulder AND Scully, "XFFTF"

**********
Co-Founder, HOB (Haters of Bees) <bg>
**********
Visit my fanfic page --
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Labyrinth/9298/myfanfic.html
And my first-person archive --
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Labyrinth/9244
Got AOL? IM me! -- snoconnor