Title:  Queen's Gambit 
Author:  Suzanne Schramm 
E-mail:  sister_suze@yahoo.com 
Rating:  R for language, mild violence and sexual situations 
Classification:  MSR, X, A 
Spoilers:  Season 6 through Drive.  In this universe, nothing after "Drive" has taken place.  
Disclaimer:  Apologies and gratitude to Chris Carter and Ten-Thirteen whose characters I am flagrantly stealing for this story.  I'm not getting paid for this, you know. 
Summary:   Queen's Gambit: A chess strategy in which a player sacrifices key pieces in order to win. 
***** 
Tuesday, September 22 
Utah State Prison 
11:58 p.m. 
Deputy Warden Jack Horsely hung up the phone and shook his head grimly at the men on the other side of the glass.  The two technicians tightened the straps and checked the I.V. lines before leaving the room. 
On the gurney, Randy Collins looked at the fluorescent lights above him and smiled.  It was time. 
And every single one of the bastards who put him there were about to pay. 
At midnight, as the plungers were set in motion, he called to the men observing him outside the room.  "You tell them I haven't forgotten!  They'll wish they were dead before I'm through with them!" 
A trail of spittle ran down his cheek as he lifted his head, fighting the heavy feeling that had begun in his extremities.  "I'll destroy them all!"  He laughed, but it was silent, his lungs already losing the capacity to draw air. 
***** 
Wednesday, September 23 
Outside the Utah State Prison 
12:32 a.m. 
"... only the third prisoner to be executed in Utah since the reinstatement of the death penalty with Gary Gillmore in 1979.  For reasons known only to himself, Randall Collins refused any appeals in his case, stating that justice would best be served by his death."  Kimberly Sanchez turned and gestured at the Prison as the 
white van carrying Collins' body began its journey down the long driveway towards them.  Her cameraman panned over for the shot. 
"And now, as Collins' body is carried away, we are left to wonder if justice is served. Perhaps the families of the girls slain by Collins in 1989 will find some peace.  This is Kimberly Sanchez for KUTV."  Kimberly gave her best pensive look as the camera panned back to her before calling out "Cut!"  She shivered, the late night hour combined with this windy location were prohibitive to a longer, more insightful report. 
As Kim and the cameraman packed up their gear they were watched from a nearby darkened vehicle.  Neither of them even spared a glance in that direction.  Cars were parked all along the Frontage Road, news crews like theirs, death penalty protestors and the morbid rubberneckers who came just to watch the body be driven out. 
Kim's silent observer smiled as the van drove past.  He was going to make history. 
It was time. 
***** 
Wednesday, October 7 
Outside A.D. Kersh's office 
1:03 p.m. 
Mulder shifted uncomfortably in his seat, cursing again the hard wooden chairs of A.D. Kersh's waiting area.  The rigid cool surface was putting his ass to sleep in much the same manner as the man behind that two inch thick door was likely to do, whenever he finally deigned to see them. 
Scully sat staring straight ahead and he wished he had her composure.  She rarely fidgeted; in fact, it seemed to him the greater the pressure, the more stony she became. 
Not for the first time, he wondered what they were being called in for now.  He had a moment of queasiness when he considered one reason, but he refused to believe Kersh could know. 
A month ago, while on another scut assignment in Morgantown, West Virginia, the pressure had finally blinded him.  It had been right after that horrific case in Nevada and he was still smarting from Kersh's acidic "You could always quit." 
After a long day of dead ends and insipid interviews he had gone for a jog.  Returning to the hotel, Mulder overheard a couple of agents smoking in the parking lot discussing him and his erst-while assignment to the X-files.  They had mocked him, mocked the work, and snickered that he was even more of a joke now.  Neither one had the decency to even look embarrassed when they saw him walk past.  If the world was full of people like that, the alien colonists were more than welcome to it. 
He stood, sweating and swearing, in the hallway as he tried unsuccessfully to get his key card to open the door.  Scully's door across the hall opened and she peered quizzically at him. 
"Mulder, what are you doing?" 
"Trying to get in my room," he muttered, turning his back on her and sliding the card through again. 
"Here," she walked over and touched his wrist.  "Sometimes they can be stubborn." 
"Goddammit, I can do it."  He pulled the card away, holding it close to him, and glared down at her.  She stepped back, surprised at his animosity, and turned back towards her room without another word.  Mulder continued to swipe the card until, finally, the light glowed green and he was able to enter his room. 
After slamming the door he stood with hands on his hips, fuming for a couple of minutes. His level of frustration was at an all-time high.  The X-Files were gone, handed over to Spender whose self-indulgent smirk made Mulder want to burn the office down a second time.  Diana could do little to help him, but at least she was trying. 
And then there was Scully.  Her refusal to believe in what had truly happened to her in the Antarctic, in what had killed those men in Phoenix, rankled him deeply.  She expected his trust, but was unwilling to trust him if it didn't coincide with her science. 
He recognized that her overture in the hallway had been a tentative step towards a truce between them, but he was enjoying being angry with her too much to accept an apology now.  Tonight, really, if an apology was due, he knew it should come from him.  He just hoped she wasn't holding her breath. 
At the rapid-fire knock on his door he sighed heavily, taking one last moment to enjoy seething. 
"What?" he barked a few inches from the door. 
"Mulder, open the door." Scully's voice was equally brusque. 
He did so and found her holding a pizza box out in front of her. 
"Here, take it.  I ordered in, but you'd disappeared.  If it's cold, I apologize.  I had no idea how long you were going to be."  Mulder blinked, her irritation wasn't what he had wanted.  He wanted her to be understanding, maybe even humor his black mood. Weren't women supposed to be the nurturers?  Where was the comfort in a cold pizza and a pissed-off partner? 
Numbly he took the box and she turned, ready to go back to her room. 
"Wait.  Scully." 
She half-turned and waited, not looking at him. 
"Did you eat already?" he asked, knowing that she must have, but needing to say something to stall her. 
"Yes."  She turned again, back towards her room, and Mulder felt a wave of loneliness flood through him. 
"I'm sorry."  It was spoken so softly he barely heard it himself, but she stopped and faced him anyway.  A few seconds passed as they regarded each other warily.  Her slow blink told him she knew exactly what was really bothering him. 
"Mulder," her gaze dropped to the carpet.  Scully's mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to decide what she wanted to say.  Then she sighed and looked him straight in the eye.  "You're not the only injured party here.  I hate this just as much as you do.  I want the X-Files back just as badly.  Don't denigrate me by assuming that the loss means nothing to me.  I've paid for those files every bit as much as you have." 
Unable to form a reply he simply nodded at her and stepped back, opening his door wider in silent invitation.  Come in, he thought.  Talk to me.  Please. 
When she hesitated it surprised him.  He didn't really want to fight, not tonight, couldn't she sense that?  Well, okay, he had earlier.  But he didn't want to now.  He was trying to make up for being snippy.  Scully tilted her head, assessing his mood, before apparently finding a reason to humor him after all. 
So they hadn't fought.  She came inside and watched him gamely choke down two pieces of cold pizza while the t.v. droned the 11:00 news in the background.  He desperately wanted a shower, but he knew she'd leave if he went to take one and he even more desperately did not want to be alone. 
Mulder sat there, chewing mechanically and contemplating what had become of his life.  It had been a year since he had seen Samantha, only to find her afraid of him and the memories he brought back.  Samantha's rejection still tore at his heart.  He had lost his faith only to have it returned to him on a cold Antarctic plain.  Now the means to prove it were gone.  Some days it seemed all he had left was Scully, but she was keeping her distance from him lately.  Her promise to stay with him and keep working had come before the official loss of the X-Files.  He wondered if she regretted it, if she now wanted a way out.  He wanted to ask her, but couldn't find the words. 
Why?  Why didn't they talk?  Why did they never open up to each other on the things that really mattered?  The bitterness he had felt earlier dissipated completely in the midst of his musings, leaving behind a gnawing loneliness so intense it actually hurt. 
The ache increased when Scully got up, moving towards the door to go back to her room.  Almost as a reflex, Mulder stood and followed her to the door.  Her shoulders twitched, aware that he was behind her when she reached the door.  She got it about a quarter of the way open before he stepped closer, shutting it firmly with his left hand while the other hand came up to trap her between him and the door. 
"Don't go yet," he whispered, hating how needy his voice sounded. 
When she shuddered a trill of power ran through him, replacing the loneliness with something even darker.  Goddamn her.  She knew.  She had always known.  The connection between them, always so strictly platonic, sometimes crackled with an unspoken tension.  A sexual tension.  It was there now, the awareness arcing between them, driving his pulse faster. 
"Mulder, what are you doing?"  Her voice was low, mild even, and he wondered for the briefest of moments if he was wrong.  But no, she was too tense, her shoulders drawn up defensively.  If she didn't feel the heat between them she would have just tried to open the door again. 
She was waiting.  Waiting to see how far he'd push it. 
"I don't want you to leave yet.  Can't you stay?" he asked. 
She didn't answer, instead leaning her head forward against the door.   That gesture spoke far more to him than words could have. 
"Turn around, Scully." he whispered. 
She shook her head, an unsteady wobble against the door.  "I should go." 
"We need to talk, Scully.  I'm tired of all the games." 
"Mulder, you're the one playing games here.  Let go of the door." 
"Turn around and talk to me first." 
Scully had taken a deep breath, the rise and fall of her shoulders inflaming him even further.  She turned to face him, her eyes wide and questioning. 
Mulder continued to hold the door shut with his left hand while his right hand came down to caress her cheek and tilt her chin up.  His thumb brushed over her lower lip and her eyes half-closed. 
"Mul..."  He bent to kiss her, the rest of his name was lost between them. 
With a start, Mulder came back to the present as Kersh's smug assistant informed them they could go in now. 
***** 
End 1/15 
 Part 2 
  
Queen's Gambit 2/15 
See disclaimer, etc. in part 1 
***** 
Wednesday, October 7 
A.D. Kersh's Office 
1:38 p.m. 
Scully fought the urge to shift her weight from leg to leg. After entering Kersh's office she and Mulder had been left standing while Kersh shuffled through papers on his desk, for all intents and purposes ignoring them. Kersh and his little power trips were beginning to wear on her nerves. 
Kersh gave a sigh and looked up at them at last. "Agents, I'm not really pleased to be giving you this assignment, but there wasn't much I could do about it. It seems, Agent Mulder, that you still have a few friends left in the world." Kersh's fingers drummed pointedly on one of the files on his desk for a moment before he let the silence grow in the office again. 
Mulder said nothing, immensely relieved that they didn't appear to be headed for a reprimand. He was beyond curious to know what assignment Kersh hated to give them, but he refused to give the man the satisfaction of knowing that. 
Finally, when the silence was on the verge of becoming ridiculous, Kersh cleared his throat and picked the file up, tapping its edge against the top of his desk. 
Neither agent spoke, waiting to see what would happen. 
"Do you remember Randall Collins?" Kersh's dark eyes bored into Mulder's. 
Mulder's eyebrows drew together as he thought. Randall Collins, Randall Collins. The name was familiar. 
"He was executed earlier this month in Utah." Kersh prompted. 
Randy Collins. A real piece of work. He had tortured and killed five girls, each time leaving notes for their families to taunt them. 
"It would seem there is a copycat killer. Sheriff Huitt requested you specifically. Apparently you were instrumental in catching Collins." Kersh tossed the file to the edge of the desk, to Scully's eyes the effect was similar to throwing down a gauntlet. 
"You do well on this Mulder, the VCS may take you back. I understand you're not satisfied in your current assignments." Kersh spoke, tilting his head back to judge Mulder's reaction. 
Beside her, Mulder stiffened. The VCS. He had been lucky to get out of there halfway sane the first time, and Kersh knew it. Had Mulder wronged him in a previous life? What was his problem?  Mulder lifted the offending file off Kersh's desk. 
"Well then, I'll certainly give it my best, sir. I hear A.D. Logan is a great guy to work for." Mulder turned and left the office before Kersh could change his mind. Scully was about to follow when Kersh spoke again. 
"I understand Mulder takes these cases personally. I hope to see him return to D.C. unscathed." His eyes were nearly twinkling, the asshole. 
"Thank you for your concern, sir." It was an effort not to let the last word drip in sarcasm, however ironically it was meant. 
Out in the hall Mulder was leaning against the wall, leafing through the file. When Scully stopped in front of him Mulder shut the file and handed it to her. The corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. 
"Call me crazy, Scully, but this could qualify as an X-File." 
"Mulder, you are crazy. Kersh wouldn't give you an X-File." 
"He just did." Mulder looked down to the file she now held. 
Scully opened the folder and scanned the contents. One week after Collins' execution Leslie Parker's husband had reported her missing.  She was found three days later, naked on a Main Street bench. She had been strangled, the post-mortem establishing that death had most likely occurred only a few hours before she had been found.  The next day Anne Wyman disappeared, only to be found dead three days later in the Park City High School parking lot, also naked and strangled. In both instances a note had been left with the body in what appeared to be Collins' handwriting. 
"Mulder, isn't it more likely that someone is just trying to make it look like this is Collins?" she asked without looking up. 
"To what end?" 
Scully said nothing for a moment, her eyes scanning the pages in her hands. The original investigating officer from ten years earlier, a Sheriff Huitt, had requested Mulder yesterday, the day after his wife disappeared. "Did Collins have any family, friends, fanatics?" 
"Collins was your typical 'he was always so quiet, kept to himself, I can't believe he'd hurt anyone' killer. He didn't have many friends. As for family, he was raised by a single mother who died two years before he began his spree." 
Their eyes met and Mulder lifted his eyebrows. "C'mon Scully.  You're missing the connection between the victims here." 
"There's a connection?" Scully looked back down at the file. 
"Leslie Parker was the DA's wife. Anne Wyman was the daughter of Penny Wyman, Collins' ex-boss who phoned in a tip on him. And now Huitt's wife is missing." 
Scully's lips drew together into a tight line as she considered this. "So you're saying he's getting revenge on the people who put him away?" 
"No, that's what you're saying. I'm just saying the victims all have a connection to Collins." Mulder smiled, enjoying the reversal. "Although the notes left behind certainly seem to point to Collins as a suspect." 
"And you think he's now taken Mrs. Huitt?" 
Mulder's eyes darkened. "Her disappearance would certainly seem to have a connection. Look, I'm going to call Huitt, see if there's anything new. You call the airline and see how soon we can get there." 
Scully sighed, trying to ignore the fatigue she suddenly felt.  They hadn't been out in the field together since... 
"You okay?" Mulder asked when she closed her eyes. 
"Fine," she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Let's go make those calls." 
***** 
Scully had spent the time before take-off reviewing again the file on Collins that Kersh had given them. Once they were airborne she found a blanket and promptly fallen asleep. Mulder only half-watched the stars on the horizon out his window, his thoughts were directed inward, lost in the remembrance of the Collins case. 

He had been new to the VCS, still trying to prove himself to Patterson, when he had been sent to Utah. The Salt Lake field office had been dealing with a rash of religious zealots at the time so Mulder had actually been sent out in the field. Was that really only nine years ago? It seemed more like ninety. 
He felt a brush against his left shoulder and looked down to see that Scully had shifted, coming to rest against him in her sleep.  The blanket had slipped to her lap but Mulder didn't dare lift it to cover her. A gesture he once would have performed without thought now gave him pause. Morgantown had changed them. Since that night she sat just a little further apart from him than she used to. If he happened to brush against her she would stiffen.  She didn't make eye contact with him for longer than a few seconds. They had never discussed that night.  Like so many other things affecting Scully personally - her sister's death, her cancer, her abduction, Emily - it had become a taboo subject. 
What was he thinking? he berated himself. Barring her exit from his hotel room and kissing her? Mulder couldn't bear to think that what should have brought them closer turned out to be an awkward moment they never mentioned. 
The dynamic of their relationship had changed. Professionally, the trust was still there, the respect was still there, but an intangible something was not. They had never really spent much time together outside of work but Mulder had always sensed that Scully cared for him as more than a colleague. Now - now he felt as if he had come too close and she was trying to keep her distance. 
How did we get to this point? he wondered. 
When they lost the X-files Scully had asked him to consider whether his heart was still in it anymore. She admitted that hers wasn't.  Although she relented and came back, part of him felt as though she had betrayed him. Since then he had felt he needed more from her.  More of a commitment, more of a promise that this quest meant just as much to her. Last month he tried to get that reassurance from her, but went about it the wrong way. And now? Now he wasn't sure how to approach her. Wasn't even sure how to define their relationship. Certainly not lovers. Not really even friends. More like long-term acquaintances who just put up with one another. 
It would have been easier if he had drawn the line at a simple kiss. He had been both exhilarated and frightened when he kissed her, certain that she was going to push him away and leave. But she hadn't. After a moment of hesitation she had kissed him back, actually putting her arms around him, and nibbled at his upper lip.  Mulder lost it then, pulling her away from the door and over to the bed. On the bed their kisses had grown more desperate as they tugged at one another's clothing. 
Mulder glanced down at Scully, asleep against his shoulder. Her lips were half-parted and he swallowed hard at the memory of them.  Once they were both naked he had kissed her slowly, ignoring the nips and bites she tried to distract him with. He had memorized the hard ridge of her teeth, the velvet of her tongue, the slick recesses of her cheeks. 
A month later the sensation of kissing Scully continued to haunt him. Mulder raised his hand and then let it drop, still not daring to touch her. His mind wandered back to that night again. 
Two hours later she had crept out of the bed. Mulder knew the instant her warmth was gone that she had been awake the whole time, not asleep in his arms at all. She had been waiting to leave and the realization stunned him. It was worse, having her sneak out in the middle of the night. Thousands of times worse than the lonely ache inside him when she had tried to leave the room earlier that night. A recollection of every reason this should never have happened ran through his head, but he blindly decided to try and get her to stay. 
"Scully?" he sat up, reaching for the light. 
She looked nothing like the Scully he'd known all these years, standing half dressed in his hotel room, her hair wild and her eyes squinting against the light. 
"You're leaving." Mulder had meant it as a question but it came out as flat accusation. Scully stood, her shirt clutched modestly to her chest, and furrowed her brow as if she were deep in thought. 
"Mulder, why don't we talk about this later, when we can have some perspective on it?" 
"Perspective?" Mulder sat back against the headboard, flinching at the chilly wood. "After the last few hours..., no, after the last six years, you're going to stand there and tell me we need perspective?" Mulder rose from the bed, not caring that he was naked. "Jesus, Scully, do you think we're being hasty here?" 
"Meeting someone in a bar is hasty, Mulder. This," Scully waved one arm to indicate the rumpled bed behind him. "This was imprudent." 
She would have been better off slapping him. Without thinking, he replied in kind. 
"I get the feeling this isn't your first one night stand, Scully." 
Her eyes narrowed and she tugged her shirt on, bending down to scoop up her shoes and assorted undergarments without even looking at him. 
A little harder, Scully, he had thought, and that could be considered slamming the door. 
A month - and he still hadn't figured out how to bridge the distance between them. Maybe now that they were away from the office, back in the field, they'd get a chance to open that door. 
Scully startled against him, her eyes blinking rapidly in confusion. She quickly pushed away from his shoulder and settled on the other side of her seat to sleep. 
Then again, maybe not. 
***** 
End 2/15 
 Part 3 
Queen's Gambit 3/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Thursday, October 8 
Utah I-80 Eastbound 
1:06 a.m. 
Rain was falling as Mulder and Scully started up Parley's Canyon on their way to Park City.   The clerk at the Lariat rental counter and the radio both had made dire predictions on when the rain was expected to turn to snow. 
Mulder had been oddly quiet the entire flight to Utah and, except for the polite necessities at the airport, he was continuing his silence.  Scully bit her lip,  watching the windshield wipers slap back and forth.  It was a month ago tonight.  She wondered if Mulder remembered the exact date. 
Neither of them ever mentioned it.  The longer it went, the more awkward it would seem to bring it up.  It was an aberration.  A momentary lapse in judgment.  They both knew it, even if they didn't talk about it.  The next morning they reported to the SAC of the case in Morgantown as if it had never happened.  Mulder said nothing, hadn't even looked at her, and it had smarted.  After returning to Washington on Saturday, the remainder of the weekend passed without a word between them.  On Monday morning Mulder looked up at her from his desk when she entered the bullpen and greeted her like he did every Monday. 
She had been relieved, at first.  He didn't seem to be sulking, their partnership was intact - it was as if the previous week had never happened.  That night, however, as she undressed for her bath she caught sight of the bruise above her left breast.  The memory of how it got there literally shook her.  She had sat down on the edge of the tub, her right hand covering the mark, lost in the remembrance of Mulder's mouth on her until it occurred to her that she looked like she was pledging allegiance. 
Allegiance to what? she wondered.  To Mulder? 
Mulder already had her allegiance.  He knew that.  He had tested and proven her loyalty to him time and time again.  How could he doubt her?  But he did, even now.  A month later, she still felt she had let him down.  Yes, she had left abruptly but it was only because she didn't know what to say to him.  It had happened so fast, without time to think.  Scully was certain if either of them had taken even a moment to think about it, Morgantown would never have happened. 
But, god, it had.  Every so often she would see Mulder and feel a tug of arousal, her mind wandering as she felt phantom hands on her body.  In an effort to keep her sanity, Scully had tried to steer a wide berth around Mulder.  After a couple of awkward days he had stopped all the little invasions into her private space.  Scully missed those brief taps and touches, missed the connection it had given their partnership. 
How could they ever get back to where they were before Morgantown? Sometimes she wondered if they'd ever get back to where they were in Morgantown, but she always pushed those unproductive thoughts 
away. 
The car's engine shifted gears as they climbed higher into the night.  Scully swallowed a couple of times to clear her ears. Mulder's fingers drummed a tattoo against the wheel in time to the static of the radio since they had lost the signal in the canyon. The other option was to turn the radio off, but she was certain he was trying to avoid total silence. 
"They found his first victim near here," Mulder spoke.  Surprised, Scully looked over at him in the dim light of the car. 
"They were building the golf course back then and the workers found her one morning propped in the seat of the bulldozer.  Collins liked to leave his victims where they'd attract some attention.  We were able to establish that he was nearby every time they found one of the girls.  All but one, his fourth victim, Shelley Fitzsimmons.  We never found her and Collins would only say he had taken her but not where the body was." 
The radio hissed and sparked while Scully worked her voice loose. "Did he work construction?" 
"No," Mulder shook his head.  "He was a courier for Penny Wyman's law firm in Park City during the day and worked at a convenience store on the weekends.  That was how he picked his victims, they were all customers.  Girls who stopped by on their way home from school." 
"They were all young girls?" 
"With one exception.  His fifth and final victim, Sheila Emmett. She was a paralegal at Wyman's law firm.  Collins asked her out and she turned him down so he killed her on a whim.  Wyman grew suspicious when Sheila didn't show up for work on Monday.  The profile we'd put together already pointed to Collins.  I'd met him since he was constantly hanging around the sheriff's office.  One of the deputies had known him when they were kids and Collins always seemed to find a reason to drop by the station." 
Outside the rain began to fall faster as the car crested the summit.  Scully watched the distant lights shimmering through the trees.  The radio chattered for a moment before losing the signal again.  She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. 
"There."  Mulder tapped his window with the back of his hand. "That's the golf course over there." 
Scully looked, but it was too dark to see anything except a few lights.   She rested her forehead against the passenger window, the glass cool and soothing against her skin. 
"Thanks," Mulder cleared his throat.  "Thanks for coming out here tonight with me instead of waiting for the morning flight.  I know there's nothing that can be done tonight, but at least we'll be able to make a fresh start of it early tomorrow." 
Scully said nothing, uncertain if he even wanted an answer. 
"I know her.  Karen.  I, uh, Huitt would insist that I come eat dinner at their house."  Mulder didn't look over, his eyes focused on the road in front of them as he ruminated aloud.  "She makes the best homemade pasta." 
Scully wished she could reassure Mulder that they would find her alive and well, but she felt a cold knot of dread.  Collins and his copycat both kept their victims alive for three days before killing them and leaving them to be found on the fourth day.  Tomorrow would be day three for Karen Huitt. 
***** 
Thursday, October 8 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
7:32 a.m. 
The office was small and cluttered with desks scattered at odd intervals to accommodate the building's structural posts.   The door hadn't even shut behind them before a tall man in his late 30's waved at them from the back of the office.  "Fox Mulder!" he exclaimed, navigating through the haphazard maze towards them at a high rate of speed. 
"Jessie Antonelli, you still here?"  Mulder reached out to shake his hand, smiling as Antonelli clapped him hard on the shoulder with his other hand. 
"Fraid so.  I tried to leave, but they begged me to stay." 
"I'll bet they did." 
Antonelli leaned in to speak in a conspiratorial tone.  "I got my reasons for staying around.  I had to give up my bachelor ways since I'm getting hitched next month." 
"No!" Mulder leaned back, aghast. 
Scully watched them with amusement.  Jessie was only an inch or so shorter than Mulder but he had a good thirty pounds on him.  She guessed he had probably played football in college and the muscle was now slowly turning to fat.  His sandy blond hair was slicked back and swiftly losing ground with what could kindly be termed a 'high forehead'.  His face was red and chapped, looking as if he spent a great deal of time in the outdoors. 
"You'd never know it to look at me,"  Antonelli turned to address her.  "But I am the catch of the county.  Trust me, it's all personal charisma." 
Mulder grinned widely.  "Charisma, my ass.  Dana Scully meet Jessie Antonelli.  Jess, this is my partner, Dana Scully." 
Antonelli's grip was almost painfully firm, but he adhered to the polite three-second rule of handshakes and released her hand quickly. 
"Scully, huh?  There's another Agent Scully here, any relation?" 
Scully shook her head.  "Not that I know of." 
"Ah, doesn't matter,"  Antonelli gave a dismissive wave.  "Mulder, you remember Lewis Scully?" 
Mulder nodded, turning to Scully to explain.  "Lewis was just starting with the Bureau when they sent me out.  You could say we all bonded." 
Jessie gave a snort of derision.  "Was that 'bonded' or 'bondage'? Lewis was something of a, well, let's just say he was still really green.  Locked himself out of his car twice.  So one night, Mulder and I...." 
Mulder put up his hand to stop Antonelli.  "The details aren't important anymore. Let's not have Scully forming any premature opinions of Scully." 
Antonelli clapped Mulder on the back again.  "I gotta say, you're lookin' good, buddy." 
"This is where I reply in kind, right?" Mulder grinned. 
"Don't strain yourself on my account."  Antonelli shooed Mulder back so he could lean in closer to Scully, taking her arm to lead her towards the back of the office.  "So, Dana, how long you been working with G. Gordon Witty here?" 
Antonelli's warmth and vivacity were contagious and Scully found herself smiling back at him, as she allowed him to propel her forward. "Six years." 
He let out a low whistle.  "You deserve an award.  I'm afraid all I can offer you is lukewarm coffee and the promise of working late nights."  Antonelli's eyes turned serious and he stopped in front of an office door.  He opened the door to let them in, catching Mulder's arm as he walked past.  "I hate to see you back here under these circumstances." 
"How's Huitt doing?" Mulder asked. 
Antonelli shook his head, his lips pressed together in a thin line. "Not good.  The first two victims had traces of grease on their bodies.  He's out checking mechanics and auto body shops." 
Inside Antonelli's office a dark haired man rose, his handsome face and blue eyes igniting Scully's curiosity.  The man's smile widened when he caught sight of Mulder behind her.  "Well, well.  Look what the sheriff dragged in." 
Mulder extended his hand in greeting, "Lewis, long time no see.  No hard feelings?" 
The man laughed as he shook Mulder's hand.  "Oh please," he rolled his eyes.  "I'm just grateful you didn't leave me there.  When did you get in?" 
"Late last night," Mulder said. 
"We can play catch-up together then, they didn't think to call me until last night, either."  Lewis shifted his gaze to Scully, his eyes crinkling with interest. 
"Lewis Scully," he extended his hand to her. 
"Dana Scully," she answered, shaking his hand.  At her name Lewis smiled widely, squeezing her hand once before letting go.  So this was the greenhorn?  He was in his mid-thirties, like herself,  and he certainly appeared to have grown out of the awkward stage Mulder and Antonelli had spoken of. 
"We got the basics back in Washington, is there anything new you can tell us?  Have you had a handwriting expert look at the notes left behind?" Mulder asked. 
Antonelli's gave a nod.  "We checked the handwriting on the notes left with Leslie and Anne.  It's Collins, both of them.  We even have the son of a bitch's fingerprints on the paper." 
"Was Collins in touch with anyone?  Did he have a correspondant or any visitors while he was in prison?" Scully asked. 
"I put a call in to the prison, they're gathering all the records, but we need to interview some of the other inmates and the guards." 
"I can go," Lewis volunteered.  "Does someone want to ride with me?" 
"I will," Scully said and Lewis smiled.  "Great, let's get going, shall we?" 
***** 
If the red slayer think he slays, 
Or if the slain think he is slain, 
They know not well the subtle ways 
I keep, and pass, and turn again. 
d4 d5; c4 e6; Ne3 Nf6 
"So far all we've got about the notes is that they're from a poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson.  The cryptic letters at the end appear to be chess abbreviations." 
"For what?"  Mulder set the note down on the table and looked up at Antonelli. 
Antonelli gestured to a chess board in the corner of the office. "We've played out all the moves he's given us, but it's hard to say where he's going with it." 
"This one was left where?" Mulder asked, indicating the note. 
"It was underneath Leslie Parker's body in a manilla envelope. There was no postage on it, just the name 'Parker'.  We're having the envelope tested.  The glue had been licked to close it, we're hoping to get a DNA match off it." 
"A match for Collins?" Mulder asked. 
Antonelli smiled.  "Possibly, though not just him.  Although we did find his fingerprints on it.  It appears the envelope was opened and then re-sealed.  I'm willing to bet we find a second DNA." 
"You don't think it's Collins?" Mulder said. 
Antonelli's smile widened.  "You do?"  He shook his head.  "I heard you became a little radical, started a new department that investigated weird stuff...." he trailed off, the smile still in place, his eyes questioning. 
"Not my department any more."  Mulder picked up the copy of the poem left with Anne Wyman's body. 
Far or forgot to me is near; 
Shadow and sunlight are the same; 
The vanish'd gods to me appear; 
And one to me are shame and fame. 
Nf3 bBe7; Bg5 O-O; e3 Nbd7; Rc1 b6; cxd5 exd5; Qa4 Bb7; Ba6 Bxa6; 
Qxa6 c5; Bxf6 Nxf6; dxc5 bxc5; O-O Qb6; Qe2 c4 
"More chess moves," Mulder murmured to himself, setting the notes down side by side before turning to look at the chess board. "Who's winning?" 
Jessie shook his head.  "No one yet.  They're pretty evenly matched, although a couple of moves ago exchanging queens would have improved black's position." 
"You play?" Mulder asked. 
"No, Albrecht's kid is on the chess team.  He came in and showed us.  So what do you think?  Is this asshole just playing a game with us?" 
"A game?"  Mulder shook his head.  "It's not the game, it's the end game that matters." 
***** 
End 3/15 
 Part 4 
Queen's Gambit 4/15 
*** 
Thursday, October 8 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
10:23 p.m. 
Mulder and Antonelli sat in the conference room, photos and evidence tags stacked in two piles in front of them.  After spending the day visiting the two crime scenes, they had returned to the sheriff's office, sorting through their notes and the evidence gathered in both cases. 
Antonelli kept glancing at his watch, as if he were expecting someone.  Each time he looked, Mulder wondered again where Scully and Lewis were.  Scully had called him in the mid-afternoon as they were leaving the prison.  Apparently Collins did have a few pen pals, she and Lewis were going to check one of them out before returning to Park City.  That had been over eight hours ago, and Mulder wasn't certain if their being delayed was good news or if it was due to the snow that had started falling that afternoon. 
Mulder leaned back, stretching his legs out as he mused aloud. "He's leaving the bodies in a public place.  The likely motive would be to maximize the horror for the victim's family since Collins goal here appears to be to punish those originally involved in his arrest.  But I..." 
"Still stuck on Collins, eh?" 
"Until someone else comes along.  The point is - our guy wants us to think he's Collins.  He's not leaving any trace evidence, dumping the bodies in a public place lessens the chance of finding reliable evidence.  But it also increases the difficulty of leaving the body there without being caught." 
"So why does he want us to think he's Collins?" 
"Good question.  These murders differ from Collins' in another way, too.  Collins sexually assaulted his victims, this guy hasn't." 
"He's dead, he can't get it up, " Antonelli suggested with a smirk. 
"Maybe.  Collins also tortured his victims.  This guy just keeps them alive then kills them.  Maybe he's torturing them mentally.  Maybe he can't bring himself to hurt them." 
Antonelli snuck another look at his wrist and Mulder couldn't resist asking.  "Am I keeping you from a hot date?" 
"It's Rachel," Antonelli replied, his leg bouncing nervously under the table.  "My fiancé.  She works in an art gallery down the street and she promised she'd check in with me on her way home tonight."  Antonelli frowned, looking at his watch again.  "It's nearly 11:00 and they closed at 9:30."  He cleared his throat and then pushed away from the table.  "I'm gonna call her.  Maybe she forgot and just went straight home." 
As Antonelli reached for the door it swung open and he had to jump back to avoid being hit.  A young woman in her mid-twenties with long dark curly hair peered around the door, her cheeks flushed red from the cold from outside. 
"Almost had you there, didn't I?" she smiled. 
Antonelli returned the grin, pulling the door open completely and kissing her on the cheek.  "You just missed me." 
"I'll open it faster next time," she promised, reaching up to brush some imaginary lint off his shoulder before letting her hand linger on his arm. 
"Mulder, I'd like you to meet Rachel Eldredge.  Rachel, this is Fox Mulder with the FBI." 
The smile she had begun to favor Mulder with disappeared.  "You're here about Karen, aren't you?"  Her light brown eyes darkened to the color of old pennies. 
Mulder nodded and shook the hand she still had extended in greeting.  "I'm sorry to say I am." 
"This is the guy I was telling you about, Rache.  One of the FBI's finest, a sheer genius at profiling.  Hell, I knew Collins when we were kids, but Mulder's the one who got inside his head.  He's gonna do it again, just you watch. " 
***** 
Thursday, October 8 
I-80 Eastbound 
9:47 p.m. 
"...but they came back after about half an hour and released me.  I was horrified at the time, thinking it would somehow end up being retold all over the Bureau but they've been the souls of discretion."  Lewis chuckled at the memory. 
Scully smiled, temporarily distracted from the storm outside by Lewis' tale of a younger, more mischievous Mulder.  "They wouldn't tell me about it nearly ten years later so I think your secret's safe with them." 
The back wheels of the truck fishtailed slightly and Scully reached for the dash to brace herself. 
"Sorry," Lewis said as he slowed the truck to a crawl.  "I hate this canyon when it snows." 
Scully forced herself to sit back and take a deep breath.  They had been creeping up Parley's Canyon for the past twenty minutes. Lewis had turned the headlights off so only the parking lights were on, cutting down on the glare so that he could see to drive.  He had been talking non-stop since they entered the canyon, Scully wasn't sure if he was nervous about the roads or trying to take her mind off the storm, she decided it was a little of both. 
"We're almost to the summit," he reassured her. 
"Somehow the thought that it's all downhill from there isn't very reassuring," she said, tensing as the truck slid gently to the left.  She could feel the wheels spin for a sickening second before they gripped the pavement again.  The highway patrol had been closing the canyon when they arrived but Lewis had flashed his credentials and explained that he had snow tires so they had been the last vehicle allowed through.  Scully was starting to wish she'd taken Lewis up on his first offer to find her a hotel for the night in Salt Lake City. 
"The ski industry's been praying for an early snowfall this year," Lewis commented.  "A town like Park City, that's it main industry now.  Used to be mining, but now the big money is in skiing." 
"What kind of mining?" Scully asked. 
"Silver.  Lots of it.  Hundreds of millions of dollars before the early 1900's when the government switched to the gold standard. The bottom dropped out of the market and towns like Park City died off.  The truth is, Park City was on it's way to being a ghost town too.  But in the 70's the skiing industry took off.  Now it's home to the US Ski Team and all the commercialization money can buy." 
Scully stole a glance at Lewis who shrugged. 
"I don't mind the ski industry, but I'm not from here originally. A lot of Parkites, the old towners, do.  They object to what the ski industry has brought with it.  Ugly condos, higher property taxes and a rise in crime.  Which is ironic, because in its heyday Park City was the most lawless place in Utah.  You had Mormon farming communities all around while the rough and tumble miners lived here.  Now they've turned the whorehouses into ritzy shops for people who have more money than sense." 
"The next Aspen, huh?" 
Lewis nodded.  "That's what they say.  This place has just exploded in the past ten years.  Mulder probably doesn't even recognize it." 
Lewis finally lapsed into silence, concentrating solely on his driving.  Scully closed her eyes, promising herself that once she got back to the hotel room she'd fill the deep bathtub full of hot water and fall asleep in it.  The day had been long and had yielded no real leads.  While Lewis had talked with the guards in the visiting room of the prison she had spoken with the guards on Death Row.  Collins had been a model prisoner, taking some college classes, in comparative religions of all things.  He had grown more withdrawn as the execution had approached, oftentimes refusing meals - claiming that he was fasting to purify his soul. 
As near as she could tell from the records kept in the mail room, Collins had only three people he had written to on a regular basis. A post office box in Salt Lake City, a Park City address and his former fiance, Annette Hundley.   She and Lewis had driven fifty miles to Toole to talk to Annette, a buxom woman in her late 30's with frizzy black hair.  Annette had met Collins through a prison outreach program and still had all of his letters, which she reluctantly turned over to them. 
"You'll give them back, right?" she had asked, her mouth pinched in an expression of distrust. 
Scully and Lewis had assured her that they would.  Annette told them that Collins was a different man from the one who had been sent to prison.  "He was sorry about those girls, he never really meant to do it, he said his behavior stemmed from an abusive childhood and a chemical imbalance." 
Lewis' slow blink left Scully in no doubt that he wondered if Annette suffered from an imbalance of her own.  Especially since she had just revealed to them that she was, once again, engaged to an inmate.  "I loved Randy, don't get me wrong.  But he was so determined not to fight the appeals process, he just wanted to die. I need a man with more ambition than that." 
***** 
Friday, October 9 
Silver King Hotel 
4:54 a.m. 
Mulder blinked, momentarily confused, as he tried to recall where he was.  Park City.  Karen.  Shutting his eyes again he took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.  His breath was the only sound in the room.  It was eerily quiet and then he remembered that it had been snowing hard last night, leaving the whole mountain in muffled silence.  Glancing over at the night table clock he congratulated himself on waking up before the alarm. 
Only about four hours had passed since they had returned to the hotel.  After Scully and Lewis came back last night the entire task force had gathered in the conference room to review the case.  The lack of progress was discouraging and, on more than one occasion, tempers had flared. 
Around 1 a.m. Sheriff Huitt had dismissed them all, asking them to get some sleep so they could start fresh in the morning.  Huitt himself seemed on the verge of collapse.  Earlier in the day he had been full of nervous energy, running purely on adrenaline.  To Mulder it appeared that Huitt had now given up hope entirely, bowing beneath the weight of his despair like the trees outside overladen with new fallen snow.  Antonelli had taken him home, supporting his boss and friend as he led him outside into the storm. 
Mulder sat up, stretching, and then walked over to the sliding glass door to see how much snow had accumulated outside.  The back of the Silver King Hotel looked down on a collection of artsy shops and chic restaurants that were part of the Park City Ski area.  A few soft lights lit up the snow and it looked like someone had already made a snowman on the bench attached to the building opposite the hotel.  Mulder let the curtain fall and stepped away. 
It wasn't a snowman. 
His hands fumbled past the curtains, pulling on the sliding glass door.  Mulder rushed out into the snow, heedless of his bare feet. He leaned over his balcony railing, peering through the half-light at the figure twenty feet away. 
It was Karen Huitt, covered in snow. 
"Scully!" he cried, racing back inside to pound on the connecting door between their rooms.  "Scully, are you up?" 
He picked up his telephone and was dialing the sheriff's office when Scully opened the door, her robe thrown on but not tied. "Mulder, what is it?" 
"Outside," he pointed, as a voice answered "Summit County Sheriff." 
"This is Agent Mulder, I need a crime scene unit to the Silver King Hotel now."  He hung up the phone just as Scully came rushing back inside. 
"I'll go get dressed," she hurried past him to her room. 
Mulder was already peeling off his pajamas, hopping on one leg to get undressed. 
***** 
End 4/15 
 Part 5 
Queen's Gambit 5/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Friday, October 9 
Silver King Hotel 
8:23 a.m. 
Yellow tape stretched across the concourse as a warning for the curious shop owners and tourists by the skating rink 50 yards away. A continuous murmur rose and fell in their midst as they speculated.  Despite the fact that the medical examiner had taken Karen away nearly an hour before, the crowd hadn't dissipated.  In fact, the number of bystanders appeared to be growing. 
When Mulder and Scully had first come outside the hotel they had been careful to note the scene.  There were no fresh footsteps leading to Karen.  The snow around her appeared to have one set of footprints leading up to and away from the bench but they were faint impressions and it was difficult to tell when they had been left. 
Karen had been left sitting naked on the bench, the snow piling on her head, shoulders and lap.  Next to her was a plastic grocery bag containing a six pack of beer, a bottle of shampoo, a receipt, her car keys and a note in Collins' handwriting. 
They reckon ill who leave me out; 
When me they fly, I am the wings; 
I am the doubter and the doubt, 
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings. 
Rfd1 Rfd8; Nd4 Bb4; b3 Rac8; bxc4 dxc4; Rc2 Bxc3; Rxc3 Ne4; Rc2 c3; 
Rdc1 Rc5 
"Sonofabitch," Antonelli muttered, turning the evidence bag over to look at the back of the note where "Huitt" was written.  He looked up at Mulder with eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.  "What's this sick fuck doing?" 
Mulder turned, surveying the crowd behind them. 
"You think he's here?" Scully asked, turning to look herself. 
Mulder shrugged.  "I don't think he'd take that risk, but I can't shake the feeling he's here." 
"Is it Collins, do you think?"  Antonelli held up his hands in mock fright. 
"Dana!" 
Scully turned to see Lewis trudging through the snow towards them. "The canyon is a mess, they're just now getting it plowed.  Were you planning on going down to Salt Lake for the autopsy?"  Lewis stamped his feet to warm them.  "If you want to take my truck, you're more than welcome.  Last I checked the Taurus didn't come with four-wheel drive." 
"I, um," Scully paused, caught off guard. 
"You're insured, right?"  Mulder feigned concern. 
Lewis laughed and held his keys out.  "Go on, take it.  If it starts snowing again later you'll be glad for it.  Besides, the ME's office is on the east bench.  You'll just end up high centered on the plowed snow in a car." 
"Thank you."  Scully accepted the keys, flashing Mulder an exasperated glance before she turned and headed towards the parking lot. 
***** 
Friday, October 9 
Summit County Sheriff's Conference Room 
4:23 p.m. 
Lewis and Mulder sat on one side of the table while two other officers, Albrecht and Sanborn, took the other side.  Files were stacked in the center as they each took a bundle of Annette's letters from Collins, trying to make sense of his sloppy handwriting. 
"Who was the other agent here this morning?  The woman?" Sanborn asked, his head bent as he studied the letter in front of him. 
"Agent Scully," Mulder answered without looking up. 
"Scully?  No kidding?  Any relation?" Sanborn glanced at Lewis. 
"Not that I know of."  Lewis said. 
"She's something." Sanborn raised his hands, sculpting a woman's silhouette in the air, missing entirely the warning look that Lewis and Albrecht shot him. 
"She's a forensic pathologist," Mulder said, catching the gesture out of the corner of his eye. 
"She's Agent Mulder's partner," Lewis spoke up, hoping to change the conversation. 
"Really?" Sanborn let the word drip with meaning before turning his attention back to the letters in front of him.  For a few minutes only the sound of papers shuffling filled the room. 
"So," Sanborn persisted, "She's not married, I didn't see a ring. Is she seeing anyone?" 
"You'd have to ask her that," Mulder shrugged. 
"Cliff," Albrecht pushed a file in front of Sanborn.  "Why don't you double check these?" 
Sanborn glanced at the file and then looked back at Mulder.  "Okay, so tell me about her professionally.  What's she like?" 
Mulder blinked slowly.  "She's a damn fine investigator and an excellent shot." 
Sanborn leaned back, crossing his arms and smirking.  "I've never had a woman partner.  I know it sounds sexist but I just don't think I could work with one.  Women are so, what's the word? Emotional.  Not to mention the fact that the temptation would be too much.  Doesn't your mind wander?" 
"I hate to disappoint you," Mulder began, an undercurrent of anger lining his words, as Lewis stiffened next to him. 
"Mul..." Lewis began. 
Mulder ignored him, leaning forward to emphasize his point.  "Agent Scully is one of the finest agents, male or female that I've ever worked with.  She might just as well be a man and it wouldn't make the slightest difference to me. " 
Mulder felt Lewis' knee nudge him under the table and he glanced over to see Scully standing a couple of feet behind Albrecht.   For a long second their eyes met, but he couldn't read anything in her expression. 
"Gentlemen," Scully's voice was even.  Sanborn eyes widened in surprise and he flashed Mulder a nasty smile as Scully continued speaking. "I have the preliminary results on Karen Huitt's autopsy." 
"Agent Scully," Sanborn turned in his seat, gesturing at the chair next to him.  "Please, sit down." 
"No, thank you,"  Scully stood at the end of the table by Lewis and Albrecht.  "Karen was strangled.  The cold makes it difficult to establish a time of death since rigor mortis was hastened but I'd have to say she was killed within a couple of hours of being left on the bench, possibly around two a.m.  She had the same traces of grease as Anne and Leslie under her fingernails.  There was a large bruise on her left hip that looked to be only a few hours pre-mortem. Her stomach was tubular and she was dehydrated, whoever had her the past few days didn't feed her, which is consistent with the findings on the previous two victims.  She also had a contact burn on the back of her neck suggestive of a large voltage stun gun." 
"A stun gun?"  Albrecht shook his head.  "Stun guns don't usually leave a burn behind.  How can you be sure?" 
"We're guessing, but a stun gun would fit.  It could subdue a person quickly, and if it were set at the highest range - 200,000 volts - it could leave behind a burn with extended contact.  It's possible Karen may have been given more than one jolt to keep her complacent.  The medical examiner saw a case like this two years ago in which a police officer accidentally killed a young man when the jolt was set too high.  The burns on Karen matched the photos he had on file." 
"So it was someone in law enforcement?" Sanborn was scribbling furiously on the notepad in front of him. 
"Not necessarily," Lewis spoke up.  "Anyone could obtain a stun gun with that kind of voltage.  The wonders of the Internet." 
"What about the grease?" Albrecht asked. 
"Samples have been sent to the crime lab in Salt Lake and to our lab in D.C.  We're still waiting to hear back on the samples sent from Anne and Leslie.  Hopefully we'll know more in a day or so." Scully looked at the piles on the table.  "Are these the case files on Anne Wyman and Leslie Parker?" 
"They sure are.  Anything in particular you're looking for?" Sanborn pulled the chair next to him out in invitation. 
"I'm not sure yet."  Scully sat next to Lewis, handing him his keys and pulling one of the files off the top of a stack.  "Thanks for loaning me your truck." 
"Anytime."  Lewis stood up, gathering a few files together.  "I'm gonna check on that Salt Lake P.O. box that Collins wrote to on my home tonight.  I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow." 
After Lewis left silence descended over the conference room. Scully scanned through the pages in front of her, not really seeing them. 
Agent Scully is one of the finest agents, male or female that I've ever worked with.  She might just as well be a man and it wouldn't make the slightest difference to me. 
Where the hell had that come from? 
  
***** 
Friday, October 9 
Deer Valley Drive 
8:19 p.m. 
"Wait, pull over here," Mulder pointed at the impound lot.  Scully slowed the car and parked next to a sign warning against loitering. Mulder had his door open and was out of the car before she could turn off the engine. 
"Mulder?  What is it?"  Scully watched as he pulled on the locked gate of the impound yard.  The gate didn't give and Mulder looked up, judging the fence and its ring of barbed wire before jogging over to the small building housing the guard.  Mulder came back a minute later with the key to unlock the gate as well as a set of car keys. 
"I just want to look at Karen's car again," Mulder explained as he held the gate open for Scully.  Inside the impound lot there were only three cars.  Two of them were from an accident earlier in the day, both smashed with shattered windshields.  The third was covered with a blanket of snow - Karen's Ford Explorer.  The sun was setting fast, the temperature dropping rapidly as Mulder circled the Explorer, brushing the snow off the windows with his sleeve.  Scully stood with her arms crossed for warmth, watching him. 
"She knew her killer, Scully.  Whoever he is, Karen willingly left her car parked at the store and brought her groceries with her. But why would she want a ride when her vehicle was right there? Unless the Explorer didn't start - it was towed to the impound lot so they wouldn't have tried the engine." 
Mulder fished in his pocket, looking for a latex glove.  He pulled one out, put it on and opened the driver's side door.  After a moment Scully heard a clicking noise but the engine didn't turn over. 
"Dana?" Scully turned around to see Antonelli leaning out his truck window across the street.  "What's up?" 
She glanced at the Explorer again.  Mulder had given up on starting the engine, staring out the windshield lost in thought.  "I don't know," she called out, turning to go over and talk to Antonelli. "Mulder wanted to stop and check Karen's car." 
Antonelli gave a nod and flashed her a smile.  "Did you two already eat?  Rachel and I are meeting for a late dinner, you're welcome to join us." 
"We have, we were on our way back to the hotel."  Scully gave an apologetic smile, realizing that eating with Rachel and Antonelli would have been preferable to the stilted meal she and Mulder had just shared.  It was unsettling to sit across from Mulder and not have anything to say to him.  The solitude of being out in the field had her feeling off-balance.  Without the familiarity of their set routine in the bullpen and the comfort of her own space at the end of the day, Scully felt adrift.  She still wasn't sure what to make of the conversation she had overhead in the conference room.  Mulder had made no mention of what had precipitated his remarks. 
"Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow morning.  Tell Mulder to take it easy tonight," Antonelli waved and rolled up his truck's window. 
Mulder had propped the hood on the Explorer open.  "Hey Scully," he called.  "Flashlight?"  Scully walked over to him and handed him the small flashlight she kept in her pocket.  The Explorer's engine was well cared for, there didn't appear to be much grime on it. 
"Huh," Mulder grunted, pointing with the light.  "See that?  Her distributor cap is gone.  The car won't start without it." 
"We should have them dust the hood and engine for prints," Scully said, taking a step back as Mulder let the hood drop. 
"Our guy wouldn't be that dumb, but we'll do it anyway.  We need to stop by that grocery store.  It's possible they might have the surveillance tapes from the night Karen disappeared, maybe we can spot him in the background.  It's my guess that he was talking to her inside and then conveniently came along just as she realized that her car wouldn't start."  Mulder pulled the glove off and looked around for a garbage can.  Seeing none he pushed the glove and Scully's flashlight in his coat pocket as he followed her back out the gate to their car. 
***** 
Friday, October 9 
Silver King Hotel 
11:47 p.m. 
The grocery store did have surveillance tapes from that night but after two hours of scanning through the tape from October 6 they were unable to spot anything useful.  At 8:26 p.m. Karen could be seen entering the store, twenty-two minutes later she chatted with the clerk, collected her bag and disappeared from the camera's view. 
Mulder exhaled a sigh of disappointment.  "She leaves the store, her car doesn't start, someone happens along to help her.  There's a cell phone plugged into the lighter in the Explorer and there's also a phone inside the store so he must have been quick to offer assistance otherwise she would have called someone." 
"So he was waiting in the parking lot?  What else is close to there?" Scully thought for a moment and then answered her own question.  "There's a movie theater, an auto parts store and a bank.  The auto parts store would have been closed but maybe the bank's cameras would have picked something up." 
"Maybe," Mulder allowed.  "But it would have been dark and the bank is on the far side of the parking lot from where Karen's vehicle was." 
"Worth a shot," Scully said, standing up and stretching.  She glanced at her watch and was shocked to see that it was nearly midnight.  "We can go check the bank first thing tomorrow.  I'm also working on a comparative list of the three victims." 
"I'll tell you what they have in common, Scully.  Randy Collins." 
"Mulder, you don't honestly believe that Collins is doing this?" 
"That's one theory.  Regardless, Collins is the connection.  Whoever this is, they're in league with Collins or want us to think they are.  Who was on his list of visitors?" 
"I don't know," Scully stood up and crossed the room towards her door.  "Lewis has the list, we can start working through it tomorrow."  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and turned to look back at him. 
"Well, good night," Mulder said awkwardly, turning to fiddle with the VCR. 
His sudden shyness was endearing and Scully impulsively asked, "Mulder, what happened earlier?" 
"Earlier?"  He didn't turn around, carefully setting the tape on top of the VCR. 
"In the conference room.  What was that about?" 
"Sanborn was being an asshole.  He'd never worked with a female agent before and he was trying to imply that..." 
"Never mind, I get the idea." Scully cut him off with a dismissive wave and opened her door. 
"I lied to him, Scully." 
Scully stopped in the doorway. 
"When I said that you could be a man and it wouldn't matter to me." 
Scully turned, unable to decide how to react.  Mulder had moved closer and she shivered, remembering how he had stalled her in Morgantown. 
"It would matter to me, Scully.  Not professionally, but personally." Mulder stopped a couple feet away from her, waiting for her reaction.  She was watching him closely and Mulder wondered if she was trying to weigh his sincerity. "I'm glad you're a woman," he said softly, noting with delight that her eyes darkened.  Just a little, but it was a start.  "It makes what happened in Morgantown a little easier to explain.  You should have seen the look on Krycek's face the night I..."  Mulder stopped when Scully smiled.  There!  He had done it, he had brought up Morgantown and she hadn't slammed the door on him again - yet.  She smiled.  She was still smiling. 
Encouraged, Mulder crossed the distance between them and bent to kiss her forehead softly.  Scully stepped back, her eyes wide. 
"I did mean that part about you being the best agent I'd ever worked with." 
"Mulder, you should quit while you're ahead." 
"Scully!  You think I'm just kissing your ass here?"  Mulder feigned hurt, clutching his chest. 
"No, but I think you'd like to." 
For a moment they blinked at each other, neither one of them quite believing they had fallen so smoothly into the easy bantering they used to share.  Then Mulder gave a soft chuckle.  "I'd settle for your lips." 
"You squandered your kiss, Mulder, when you kissed my forehead." 
"I was warming up.  I'm out of practice." 
"I doubt that."  Scully looked up at him with affection and Mulder's chest tightened.  "You're in luck, though, I still have my kiss left." 
Mulder's smile widened.  "What?  We only get one a day?" 
Scully nodded.  "Close your eyes, Mulder." 
"You're not going to sneak out of here if I do, are you?" 
"No.  Humor me." 
 
"Of course."  Mulder closed his eyes. 
Scully looked up at his face, finally admitting to herself that this was what she really wanted.  God, she had missed this.  Missed his teasing, missed his touch, missed the sensation of standing this close to him.  At times she was absolutely convinced she had made the right decision in putting a stop to it.  But now, with Mulder mere inches away, waiting for her kiss, she missed him with aching intensity. 
Scully brought her hand to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.  Mulder came willingly, his tongue darting out to moisten his bottom lip and a wave of heat shot through her entire body. Her fingers tightened on his neck and Mulder's lips parted a little more.  She moved close enough that she could feel his breath on her 
lips... 
... and kissed the mole on his cheek. 
She dropped her hand, letting it caress his shoulder as she stepped Back.  Mulder opened his eyes to ask her, "What the hell was that?" 
"I guess I'm out of practice, too, Mulder." 
He clucked like a chicken as she reached to close the door. 
"Good night," she smiled back at him. 
"Sweet dreams."  He grinned as she shut the door.  Mulder listened closely but didn't hear the lock click. 
Satisfied, he turned and headed for the shower. 
***** 
End 5/15 
 Part 6 
Queen's Gambit 6/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
The boy stood for a moment, unable to remember which way to turn. Was is it two lefts and then a right? Or left, right and then left again? Or were you supposed to only go left on the way in and he'd have to turn right to go back out? He swung his flashlight back and forth, unable to discern a single memorable feature in the two passages before him. 
"Guys?" he called out but only the sound of his own harsh breathing came back to greet him. This time, he swore, he wasn't going to let them get away with ditching him like this. He was going to be really pissed if they lit off the dynamite without him. They had spent nearly a week planning where to detonate before deciding to go deep into the mine to avoid detection. If they got caught it was going to mean the premature end of summer vacation. If their parents didn't kill them first... 
A chill breeze blew from the shaft to the left of him. That had to be the way out then, he'd go to the right. He swung the flashlight to the right and followed the beam. He'd only been walking for a few minutes when the hair on his arms raised and he was overcome by a sense of doom. The boy froze in his tracks, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it hurt to breathe. 
Get out. 
Completely spooked he turned to run, only making it a few steps before he heard the blast. Instinctively he dropped to his knees, bending forward and cradling his head in his arms. He felt the rush of air from the explosion and could hear the deafening roar of rock crashing up ahead. 
After the sound died down he began to scream, willing someone to hear him. They don't know I'm here, he realized. I'm buried alive... 
**
Scully kicked the covers back, shaking violently. She took several deep breaths, trying to shake off the abject sense of terror from the boy in her dream. Pulling the covers up to her chin she let her mind wander, trying to find something else to think about. The case? Not exactly the most uplifting of topics. 
Mulder? 
"Oh god," she muttered, chagrined all over again. She had fallen asleep debating the wisdom of flirting so openly with Mulder. Nothing good could come of it. Could it? They were, heaven help them, actually going to have to talk about Morgantown. 
***** 
Saturday, October 10 
Silver King Hotel 
6:31 a.m. 
Scully was tucking the towel around herself as she reached for the phone. Her mad dash from the bathroom had left a dark trail of water across the carpet. 
"Scully?" Mulder didn't wait for her greeting. "Are you dressed?" 
The phone slipped from her shoulder and Scully juggled frantically, trying to catch and tuck at the same time. Exasperated she gave up the towel, letting it drop to the floor. "No. Give me a minute." She realized she sounded curt but she didn't much care. After waking up from the nightmare she had tossed and turned, unable to fall back asleep. Hearing Mulder's voice unaccountably irritated her, perhaps because she had spent the wakeful hours wishing she hadn't kissed him. 
She kicked the towel out of the way and then opened a dresser drawer as Mulder continued speaking. "I was wondering if you had the records on Collins from the prison?" 
Scully slammed the drawer shut, hoping Mulder could hear her irritation, not just through the phone, but through the wall. "Lewis has them." 
There was absolute silence on Mulder's end. "Mulder?" Scully stood motionless, wondering if he was still on the line. 
"I'm here." 
"Was that all? Did you need to ask me anything else?" 
Mulder bit back a comment about her cheery disposition this morning. "I think I'll get the file from Lewis then and head over to the Prison today. I want to look into Collins' course work in religion." 
"Why?" Scully asked, leaning over to pull on her underwear. The phone slipped again and she scrabbled to hold onto it. 
"I've been thinking about the poem fragments Collins is leaving behind. They're from Emerson's 'Brahma'. In Hindu mythology Brahma is the creator, the life-force that connects all entities. I know I said I don't think it's Collins doing the killings, but I can't help wondering what significance the poem held for him. He obviously took great care in writing it out." 
"Mulder that poem holds no significance other than to mess with the minds of the people this new killer is victimizing." 
"But why?" 
Scully closed her eyes, feeling even more tired at the thought of arguing the point with him. 
"Anyway, how would you feel about driving over to the prison again today?" Mulder asked. 
"I was going to follow-up with the bank today, see if there were any surveillance cameras there. How about if we divide and conquer? You can drop me off at the sheriff's office." 
"Great. I'll meet you downstairs in 20 minutes." Mulder hung up before she had time to answer. 
***** 
Saturday, October 10 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
9:23 a.m. 
Scully tapped her pen against the table. The bank had already turned the surveillance tapes over to Sheriff Huitt two days ago. She wondered how Mulder was faring at the prison, if he'd found whatever connection he was looking for. Next on her to-do list was to research the names of Collins' visitors. Scully glanced over at Lewis, who was engrossed in the paperwork before him. 
"Lewis, can I get the list of visitors from you?" 
A couple of seconds passed before Lewis looked up. He blinked and then gave a slow nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I've, uh, I've got them here somewhere." He lifted a file, set it back down and shuffled some papers. "It was right here..." 
Scully lifted a stack at the her end of the table. "Maybe in here?" 
"No," Lewis shook his head and sat back, giving the table a disgruntled look. 
Antonelli leaned inside the room. "Have you finished checking on Collins' pen pals?" 
"No," they answered in unison. Lewis flashed Scully an apologetic smile. "Now that list I do have. It's right...," his hand waved over a stack of files before coming to rest on another folder. "Right here." Lewis held up the list in triumph. 
Antonelli took the list and scanned it briefly. "I thought so, I know one of the names on here. I'm going to head over there right now. Dana, you want to come with me?" 
"Go," Lewis waved at the table. "Go on. I'll keep looking here. I'll have that list of visitors for you by the time you get back." 
***** 
Saturday, October 10 
Main Street 
9:58 a.m. 
Park City glistened under its blanket of snow, the glare causing Scully to squint and wish she'd remembered to bring her sunglasses along. Antonelli pointed out buildings as they drove up Main Street, telling Scully bits of Park City's history as well as anecdotes from his youth.  Main Street  narrowed, with signs warning that they were now on a dead end road. 
"This is Empire Canyon we're heading into, Main Street turns into Daly Avenue as it heads up the canyon. Originally this road was just a dirt trail leading to the Judge Mine. In the late 1800's people started building their homes here, including my great-grandfather." 
"Was he a miner?" Scully asked as Antonelli shifted into a lower gear. The canyon was narrow, the houses built close to the street and situated even closer together. Cars were parked on the side of the road, effectively making it a one-way street. 
"Fireman," Antonelli grinned and shrugged. "I'm the black sheep of my family. They all were firemen." 
The right side of the canyon grew steeper but the houses continued down the left side. 
"Adelaide Harrington is one of Park City's old society. If I had to guess I'd say she's over 90 years old. She was old when I was young." Antonelli's features softened at a memory. "She lives in the last house on Daly Avenue. She was my first employer. I used to weed her garden, mow her lawn, stuff like that. She didn't pay very well but my mother insisted." 
"She wrote Collins?" 
Antonelli gave a nod. "Collins lived two doors down from me when were kids. He used to do odd jobs for Adelaide too. She doted on him. I don't think she ever got over his arrest. He was living with her at the time as a kind of a caretaker, jack-of-all-trades. I think the prison sent all his belongings to her after the execution." 
He pulled off the road, past a small cinderblock garage onto a shoveled driveway. The house was shaped like an "L" with a small front porch festooned with intricate gingerbread ornamentation. The sidewalk in front of the house had also been shoveled. Rock salt crunched beneath their feet as they walked to the door. 
"Adelaide?" Antonelli opened the front door without knocking, calling out her name loudly as he entered. "Adelaide?" He gestured for Scully to come inside. "Adelaide, it's Jessie." 
Scully looked around the tiny living room. Every wall was covered with shelves holding porcelain dolls. There was an ancient sofa into which the cushions had been compressed until they appeared nearly flat. A doorway on the far wall gave a glimpse of countertop in the kitchen beyond. 
"I'm in here," a voice called out from the kitchen. "Come on back." 
Scully followed Antonelli into the kitchen. An elderly lady was sitting at a table heaped high with papers. Her white hair was cut short and teased on one side. The other side was flat, as if she had slept on it. A large smile split her deeply wrinkled face, revealing that her lower dentures were missing. 
"You'll never guess what's happened," she told him, picking up one of the papers before her and waving it at him. "I won!" 
Antonelli sighed and flashed Scully an apologetic smile. "Adelaide, how many times do we have to go over this? You haven't won anything, they just want you to buy their products." 
Adelaide snorted and shook her head. "Shows what you know, this is a check. See?" She held it out proudly with fingers gnarled by arthritis. Antonelli stepped closer and took it from her. 
"It looks like a check, but it's not really. See here, the fine print?" He handed it back to her. "It says if you return the winning number they'll send you a real check." 
"Oh," her expression turned sour and she gave Scully a disapproving look. This isn't your lady friend. Where's that nice girl you usually bring over?" 
"Adelaide, this is Dana Scully. She's with the FBI and she needs to ask you some questions." 
Adelaide's eyes went wide. "Heaven help me, the FBI? Are you here to arrest me?" 
"No, no," Scully gave her a reassuring smile and indicated the chair opposite Adelaide. "May I?" 
"Yes, certainly." Adelaide waved at the chair. "Where are my manners? Would you like some coffee? Jessie, fix the nice lady some coffee." Antonelli turned and took the old-fashioned coffee percolator off the stove to rinse it in the sink. Adelaide pushed the papers in front of her to the side and folded her hands on the table, regarding Scully with an expectant air. 
"I just wanted to ask you a few questions about your correspondence with Randall Collins," Scully began. Adelaide looked away, regarding the brightly colored advertisements on the table as if they held more than the elusive promise of instant wealth. 
"I'm sorry if this pains you, I know you were very close to Randy, but we believe someone is now copying the murders that Randy committed." 
"Hegh," Adelaide wheezed. "Hegh, hegh, hegh." It took Scully a moment to realize that she was laughing. "Do you really think I have something to do with that?" Adelaide passed a hand in front of her eyes and then waved it at Scully in merriment. "Don't that beat all? Jessie, did you hear that?" 
"I heard it. I promise, you're not a suspect." Antonelli chuckled himself. "We just want to know if Randy ever mentioned any friends in his letters. Did he ever talk about getting even with the people responsible for putting him in jail?" 
"No," Adelaide shook her head decisively. "He was taking religion classes, you know. He had truly repented of his crimes, he never talked about getting revenge." Adelaide looked back and forth between Antonelli and Scully. "I have all his letters, if you think that will help." 
"Yes, please," Scully said. 
"Jessie," Adelaide tilted her head to indicate the front room. "I keep them in a box at the side of the couch. Would you please find them for me?" Antonelli gave a nod and left the room. 
"He's a dear boy," she told Scully. "They both are. Were." Adelaide's eyes clouded and she blinked. "He used to sing to me, you know." 
"Jessie?" Scully asked politely. 
"Oh heavens, no. Randy. He used to sing to me from that musical, about the craps players." 
Scully shook her head, not understanding. 
"Adelaide, Adelaide, ever lovin' Adelaide," her voice broke as she crooned. "Is takin' a chance on me." 
Scully smiled, realizing which musical she meant. "Guys and Dolls." 
Adelaide returned the smile. "That's the one. He used to sing that to me. He was a dear boy." 
***** 
Saturday, October 10 
Daly Avenue 
11:03 a.m. 
Scully was holding the box containing Collins' letters on her lap as they began the drive back down Empire Canyon. Antonelli drove slowly, his eyes fixed on the right side of the road as they neared his house. "Her car is still here," he told Scully as he turned into his driveway. "Rachel's extremely late for work, I'd better go make sure she got up." 
"Do you mind if I come in with you?" Scully asked. The coffee they'd consumed at Adelaide's had gone straight through her. Antonelli gave her an distracted nod as he turned the truck off. 
"Door's unlocked," Antonelli muttered through tight lips when he tried his front door. Scully felt a chill race down her spine. 
"Rachel?" Antonelli called out as he entered the house. Unlike Adelaide's residence, no one answered his call. 

"She was here when you left this morning?" Scully asked as she looked around the front room. 
Antonelli didn't answer, rushing instead into a back room. "Rachel?" 
Scully peeked into the kitchen. A mug sat on the counter. She put her hand over the top of it, finding it cold. She turned and followed the route Antonelli had taken. He was standing in front of a door at the back of the bedroom, knocking and calling Rachel's name. 
"The bathroom door's locked," Antonelli looked at her with the beginnings of panic in his eyes. "Why would she lock the bathroom?" They both fell silent, listening to the sound of running water on the other side of the door. 
Antonelli took a deep breath and then threw the weight of his body against the door. It didn't budge. He tried again with no results. Swearing under his breath he tried a third time and the door gave, splintering inward. 

"Rachel?" Antonelli pulled back the shower curtain to reveal an empty shower stall. 
"Oh god," he staggered backwards and Scully reached out to help him to sit on the toilet seat. She reached into the shower, noting that the water was ice cold as she turned it off. 
"Oh god," Antonelli whispered again, lowering his head into his hands. 
***** 
End 6/15 
 Part 7 
Queen's Gambit 7/15 
See disclaimer, etc. in part 1 
***** 
Sunday, October 11 
Silver King Hotel 
12:16 a.m. 
When Mulder got back to the hotel his darkened room was split by light coming through the door connecting his room to Scully's. He tossed his overcoat and suit coat on the bed and leaned his head into Scully's room. 
The t.v. was on but she lay on her side facing the door, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, fast asleep. Mulder approached her quietly, debating whether to awaken her. She must have had something important to discuss if she had left the door open so he reached down and shook her arm gently. 
Scully startled, pushing up onto her elbow. "What time is it?" she asked groggily. 
Mulder sat down at the foot of her bed. 
"Just past midnight. Was I supposed to wake you?" 
"Yes. I'm sorry, I meant to stay awake, I just didn't get much sleep last night." Scully yawned and sat up completely, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Where have you been Mulder? I've been trying all day to get in touch with you." 
"My cell phone died. After the prison I drove up to Ogden to interview Collins' educational counselor." Mulder shrugged. "Why?" 
"Rachel's disappeared." 
Mulder shook his head slowly in disbelief. "When did it happen?" 
"Sometime this morning. Antonelli left the house around seven o'clock and Rachel was still asleep. The shop she works at opens at 9:30 but she never showed up. We were driving past his house around eleven when he noticed her car was still in the driveway. We went inside and the place was empty. The shower had been left running but there was no sign of a struggle, nothing." 
Mulder stood, starting to pace the room. "How's Antonelli doing?" 
Scully shook her head. "Not good. I took him home, but I don't know that he'll get any sleep." She picked up the remote and turned off the t.v. "I talked with Huitt this afternoon. He's checked every garage between Heber and Salt Lake without coming up with anything. They're bringing in additional manpower tomorrow morning." 
"But will it be in time for Rachel?" Mulder asked quietly. 
Without the t.v. on, the silence in the room was overwhelming as they both considered their race against the clock. 
"Scully, I want to say something, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way." 
Her eyes met his. 
"Whoever this is, they're going after everyone involved in the original investigation." 
Scully nodded. "You need to call your mother. Try not to alarm her, but see if there isn't someone she can stay with until after we ..." 
"He won't go after my mother," Mulder said flatly. 
Scully opened her mouth to disagree with him but found she couldn't. She looked past Mulder to the t.v., wishing she hadn't turned it off. 
"He'll go after you. He's getting his revenge by killing what they love best; Huitt, Antonelli and the others." 
Scully closed her eyes briefly and then looked back at Mulder. His eyes were serious, his expression pained. "I'm not sure how to argue with you on this one, Mulder." 
"Then don't. Just..." he swallowed and brushed his fingers over her hand. "Just be careful." 
Scully watched as he picked up the folder with her notes from the day in it, an ache building in her chest. ...love best  The night in Morgantown came back to her in a rush and her cheeks flushed at the memory. She hastily reconsidered her reconsiderations from the night before. 
"Mulder," she said softly to stop him from leaving. He paused in the doorway as she continued speaking. "When this case is over, we need to talk." 
Mulder turned and gave her a quick grin. "I look forward to it." 
Scully reached to turn off her light as he left. When she lay down Scully noticed the door between their rooms was still open a crack. Comforted by the thought that he, too, was looking for a way to breach the wall they had built, she turned over and tried to go back to sleep. 
***** 
Water was dripping everywhere as the flashlight flickered. The boy shook it, trying to coax just a few more minutes worth of light from the batteries. He could see the timbers of an old shaft up ahead. If the light would just hold out for a little while longer he could climb out of here. 
He choked back a sob when the light dimmed again, giving him only a small circle of faint light on the wet and slippery surface of the floor. His hand reached out for the rock wall, letting it guide him instead. He turned off the flashlight, hoping to preserve the batteries. Maybe they would recharge a little with the power off? 
He stepped carefully, feeling with his toes for the open shaft he knew was coming. It seemed to take an eternity, inching along in the darkness. He was cold, he was wet, he was tired. His throat was raw from shouting and his fingers had gone numb, he was relying on the vibrations passing up his arm to guide him along. 
Then it happened. His foot skittered out into empty space. He leaned backwards, overcompensating in his fright and winding up flat on his ass. The flashlight bounced out of his cold hand. He frantically felt for it, bumping into it once and sending it rolling away before he was able to get a good grip on it. Shivering violently he ran his thumb across the switch. For a second there was a dim yellow glow before the light died entirely. 
His throat closed off, trapping the air in his lungs as the painful realization set in. I'm gonna die in here. His shoulders shook with sobs, the wails echoing eerily through the shaft, as he gave in to despair. 
**
Scully muffled her cry into the pillow. It took several long moments before she realized that she was safe and snug in a bed. She pulled the covers up over her head but couldn't get warm. Two nights in a row now, to have had this strange dream. Her heart continued to hammer against her breastbone, still feeling the boy's fear and grief. 
Scully took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She turned her head to see the alarm clock, 3:26 a.m. She knew already there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd fall back to sleep. Throwing back the covers she tiptoed to the door to retrieve her notes from Mulder's room. 
She pushed the connecting door open and stepped inside. She could hear Mulder's slow even breathing as she crept towards the papers she could see on his nightstand. The sound was comforting, familiar even. She began to gather together her notes, using the light from his alarm clock to guide her. 
"Scully?" he whispered. 
"Yes, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I was just getting my notes." 
"At 3:30 in the morning?" Mulder sat up, his hand reaching out to touch her elbow. 
"I couldn't sleep." His hand was warm against her skin and she realized that she had come in here, not for her notes, but because she had craved the human connection. 
"Do you want to talk about it?" 
"About what?" Scully reluctantly pulled away from his touch. 
"I heard you. That must have been an awful dream." Mulder's hand brushed her elbow again. 
"You've been awake this whole time?" She felt indignation rising up in her. "Why the hell didn't you say something when I first came in the room?" 
"I, ah, never mind." Mulder's voice was amused. A white hot burst of anger ran through Scully and then disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving her drained and, she feared, entirely susceptible to Mulder's charm. She sat down on the edge of the bed, utterly exhausted. 
"I keep having this dream," she whispered. "About a young boy, probably eleven or twelve, and he's buried alive. I had it last night and again tonight. I can see him, it's almost like I am him, but I can't help him and I always wake up feeling trapped and helpless." Scully shivered. "Maybe it's just some weird unconscious metaphor for how helpless I feel in this case. We canvassed the entire neighborhood but no one saw anything. It's like Rachel just disappeared into thin air." 
Mulder was quiet, he had been unable to fall sleep, tormented by grief for Antonelli and worry for Rachel when he had heard Scully's cries through the wall. His visit with Eldon James, Collins' education counselor had revealed that Collins had indeed boasted to Mr. James on multiple occasions that he was coming back and that justice would be served when he did. Four women had disappeared without a trace, without a single witness. What if it really was the work of a specter instead of a more corporeal villain? How could you stop a ghost? 
Scully's breath hitched and he reached out, smoothing his hand over her back comfortingly. To his surprise she turned, slipping her arms around him and embracing him tightly. 
"I'm sorry, Mulder." Her breath tickled across his neck. 
"For what?" He shifted and her head slipped to rest against his shoulder. 
"For Morgantown. For leaving like that." 
 Mulder tightened his arms around her. "I'm sorry, too. I was angry, I should never have said that to you." 
"No." Scully shook her head, nuzzling him in the process. "No. You were right to be angry. I never gave you a chance." 
"You didn't have to." Mulder pulled his head back from where it rested against the crown of her head. 
Scully loosened her hold on him. "We need to set some ground rules, Mulder. Our partnership is too valuable to me." 
"Are we having that talk now? 'Cause I didn't bring my notes." 
"Why did you do it?" Scully moved so that they were no longer touching. 
"Make notes? I didn't want to forget anything." 
Scully didn't reply, waiting for his real answer. 
"I'm not sure," Mulder finally said. "If you mean Morgantown, why I stopped you from leaving like that, it's... it's complicated. Why did you leave like you did?" 
Scully let out a sigh. "It's complicated," she echoed. 
"How complicated?" Mulder's voice was light, almost teasing, but she could sense the undercurrent of anxiety in his question. Suddenly three in the morning didn't seem like a good time to discuss this. Scully stood up to leave, feeling unsteady on her feet. 
"Scully?" 
"Good night, Mulder." She bent to kiss his forehead softly before she could think better of it. 
"Do you want to know what I really wanted that night?" 
Scully's stomach tightened. "What?" she whispered. 
"I didn't want you leave. I came so close to losing you when the X-Files were shut down. I mean - you were leaving me..." 
"Not you, Mulder. I left the FBI." 
"It's the same thing." 
"No. No it's not. Mulder can't you see that I quit to avoid being transferred? I left so I could stay in D.C., with you. 
"With me?" Mulder gave a dry chuckle. "You told me your heart wasn't in it anymore." 
"And you took that to mean you personally?" 
"How could I have known differently? Scully, without the job, what else do we have?" 
"Friendship. Respect. Mulder, how can you ask me that? How can you believe that the X-Files are the only thing holding us together?" Scully returned to sit on the bed again as she spoke. 
"Friendship - yes. Respect - absolutely. But Scully, I never see you outside of work. It's not like we hang out together on the weekends." 
"So Morgantown was what? An attempt at a relationship you see no basis for?" 
"Morgantown, ah, god. I don't know." Mulder made a helpless gesture, frustrated with his inability to tell her what had driven him that night. 
"Or were you trying to establish a new level between us in case they separated us again?" 
Mulder gave a choking laugh. "So the next time they break us up you'll say 'Damn, that Mulder was a good lay. I should call him.'?" 
Scully smiled in spite of herself. "Don't flatter yourself," she told him, desperate to steer the conversation back to something more lighthearted. She hadn't meant to poke the hornet's nest so hard when she apologized. 
"I wasn't good?" Mulder adopted a mock hurt tone, feeling the same need to get back on sturdier ground. 
"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Scully muttered. 
"I was that bad?" 
"Mulder, it's not a question of..." 
"Go ahead, tell me the truth. I was lousy, huh?" Scully stood up again. "Don't you want to know how you were?" 
"No," she told him, stepping away from the bed. 
"You were amazing." 
"Flattery won't work for you tonight." 
"It didn't really work last night either. Wait, Scully, please." She stopped a few steps away from the door. "What I said earlier, I meant it literally about that night. I just didn't want you to leave. I realize I should have found another way to ask you to stay. When you left anyway..." he fell silent. 
Scully stood motionless, debating the merits of not leaving tonight. She didn't want to leave. All that waited in her room was a cold bed and the chilling remnants of her nightmare. The idea of staying in here, with him, was a tempting one. Perhaps not a wise one, but it might go a long way towards showing Mulder that there was more than just the job between them. Not sex, she told herself, just friendship. 
"How amazing?" she asked. 
"What?" 
Scully turned around. "I asked 'how amazing?'." 
Mulder nearly gulped. "Amazing enough I'm still taking cold showers a month later?" 
"Then scoot over, you get the cold side of the bed." 
Mulder slid over immediately. "I love it when you're bossy." 
"Mulder, one more word of innuendo from you and I'll never tell you how you were," Scully said as she slid in bed next to him. 
"Shutting up now." 
For a few minutes they shifted, adjusting the sheets and taking care not to end up actually touching each other. Scully took deep even breaths, her mind swimming at the memory of making love to this man. 
"Mulder?" she whispered. 
"Hmmm?" 
"You weren't bad." 
"Humph," he rolled onto his side, facing her. "That's it? Just a 'not bad'?" 
"What did you want to hear?" 
"Anything but 'not bad'. How about 'amazing'?" 
"No." 
"No, I wasn't amazing?" 
"No, we already used that word." 
"Is this a report for Kersh? We can't use the same adjective twice?" 
"What if I told you that 'amazing' falls short of your actual performance?" Scully could hear his grin in the dark. "Good night, Mulder." 
"I don't get a good night kiss?" 
"I already kissed you." 
"That was for Saturday. Now it's Sunday. I want Sunday's kiss." 
"You'll have to wait until tonight." 
"Well, I plan on using both my kisses now. Close your eyes, Scully." Mulder listened happily as her breathing changed to become less even. 
"Mulder, it's already dark in here." 
"Humor me. Close your eyes." 
"Ok. They're closed." 
The mattress shifted beneath her as Mulder leaned so that he was propped up over her. She felt the whisper of his breath against her mouth for a brief moment and her lips parted, waiting for the press of his. "Good night, Scully," he whispered, the puff of air from his words tickling her lips. Then he gently kissed each of her eyelids. 
"Good night," she echoed, her eyes still closed, her heart pounding relief and disappointment through her body. 
***** 
End 7/15 
 Part 8 
Queen's Gambit 8/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Sunday, October 11 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
7:50 a.m. 
Scully drummed her fingers on the fax machine, frustrated at its silence. She had spent half an hour combing carefully through every folder on the conference table without finding the list of Collins' visitors. Finally she had called the prison and the secretary assuring her she would send the list right over. That had been over ten minutes ago and Scully felt the passing of time keenly. The fax machine whirred, finally coming to life as the modem connected. It seemed an eternity for the paper to slowly work its way out of the machine. 
As she walked back towards the conference room she scanned through the list, stopping short at what she saw. 
"Son of a bitch!" She pushed into the conference room and picked up the phone to call Mulder. 
***** 
Antonelli sat hunched over the steering wheel of his truck, waiting for the stoplight to change. Mulder had volunteered to pick up Antonelli that morning since Scully had driven him home the night before. He had been waiting for Mulder, throwing the door open before he had even finished knocking. 
"I called the hotel but you must have left already," Antonelli had told him as he brushed past Mulder and headed for his truck. 
Now it appeared that he had used up all his energy hustling to the truck. Antonelli was still wearing the same clothes from the day before and he hadn't shaved. He looked over, feeling Mulder's gaze upon him, and shook his head. "I spent the whole night hoping she's left me." 
"Did you two have a fight?" 
"No," he shook his head again. "But they say you never see these things coming." 
"Did you get any sleep?" Mulder asked him softly. 
The light changed and Antonelli drove forward. "I got enough." He glanced over at Mulder. "When are you going to turn brilliant on me? This would be as good a time as any." 
Mulder exhaled slowly, he hadn't slept either. His mind had turned in circles, wandering between the case, Rachel's disappearance and Scully. Her odd dreams had given him an idea. "Do you know if Huitt checked the mines? Those traces of grease on the victims, couldn't they have come from tracks inside the mines?" 
"Shit," Antonelli swore under his breath. "If he's got her in the mines, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Do you realize how many hundreds of miles of tunnel are underneath this mountain? Lay 'em all out and you could walk to Chicago." 
"He's got her in the mine." Mulder gave a somber nod. "He takes them there, keeps them alive for a few days and then kills them. The mine is perfect - it's dark so they can't see to escape, they can scream and no one will hear them." 
"Shit," Antonelli said again, hitting the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. "Shit, you're right. She's in the mine. If he keeps to his timeline we've got two days to find her." 
"Did she, did Rachel have any strange dreams before she disappeared?" 
Antonelli gave him a puzzled look. "Strange dreams? Like what?" 
"About the mine, or being down in the mine?" Mulder's cell phone rang and he answered, "Mulder." 
"Mulder, it's me. I finally got a chance to look at the list of Collins' visitors in prison." 
"And?" 
"And he was visited by Lewis Scully on three occasions in the month preceding his execution." 
"What does Lewis have to say about it?" 
"I don't know. He's not here to ask." 
"Let's find out where Lewis is. Hey, Scully, in your opinion, could the grease on the victims bodies be from some kind of tracks? Like a mining car?" 
"You think he's keeping them in the mine?" Scully paused, considering. "I think it's a strong possibility." 
"Where do we start?" Mulder turned to ask Antonelli. 
"God, I don't know," Antonelli grimaced. "The mines have all been shut down for fifteen years or longer. Except the Ontario - it's a tourist attraction now. But it has a working shaft and it connects to several other mines. We can use it as a base. Tell Scully to round up everyone she can and meet us there." 
***** 
Sunday, October 11 
Park City Silver Mine Adventure 
9:23 a.m. 
"None of you are claustrophobic, right?" Huitt asked as the gate slid shut. Three bells sounded and the car rose, allowing eight more officers on the cage below theirs. The cages were small - six feet deep, four feet wide and stacked five high.  All together they were capable of carrying forty or more miners at a time. The car swayed as the people below them boarded.  There was a metallic clank and the bells sounded again.  The car rose enveloping them in darkness as the car below blocked out the light. 
"Once we have everyone loaded we'll be dropping to the 1500 foot level," Huitt continued. "That's deeper than the Sears Tower is high. Everything below 1500 feet is filled with water. They quit mining here in '83 when the cost of pumping the water out was more than they were extracting in silver ore." 
"Why start that deep?" Scully asked. "Isn't it more likely that he's keeping them somewhere you don't have to take such a long ride to reach?" 
"You need to take into account how far up the mountain we drove to get here. At 1500 feet there are several drain tunnels leading outside and we join up with the Daly West mine. It's as good a place as any to start. We'll work our way up from there." 
Mulder shifted uncomfortably, his hard hat clacking against the low ceiling of the car. Water was dripping from the roof of the cage, a few drops had slid beneath his slicker and were cold against his neck. The officers in the car below them were a jovial group, snickering and asking who was grabbing whose ass. Mulder was in the corner where no one could grab his ass. Scully stood in front of him, swaying backwards to unintentionally press intimately against him as the bells sounded and the cage ascended one car higher into the shaft. Antonelli was wedged in next to him.  He had not spoken a word to anyone since they had arrived at the mine, a far away look in his eyes. 
"Remember to keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times," someone snickered from below as the car jumped again from the weight of new passengers. 
Another door clanged shut below them and two bells rang. With a woosh they began to descend, passing the opening from which they had piled into the car and moving swiftly downwards into utter darkness. Water dripped steadily across Mulder's neck as they dropped. He felt disoriented in the dark and he moved his hand so that it was resting on Scully's hip. He felt her hesitate a moment before she relaxed, leaning a little more heavily against him. 
The seconds stretched out in the blackness. Even the group below them fell quiet, sobered by the seemingly endless descent. "Hey Scully," Mulder bent closer to where he hoped her ear was. "Did you find Lewis?" 
She leaned back to answer him, her hard hat bumping against his sternum. "He called in this morning saying there was some kind of family emergency. We tried to contact him at home but no one answered." 
The car shuddered, rocketing back and forth in the shaft. "Whoa!" someone exclaimed from below them. Nervous laughter filtered up as the car continued to tremble violently. 
"We're halfway," Huitt explained. "We're passing the counterweight, the change in air pressure from it moving upwards and our pushing downwards is what causes us to rock." 
For a few seconds longer the cage was buffeted. Then the jolting motion ceased and they continued to drop blindly into the mine. 
***** 
Sunday, October 11 
Ontario Mine, 1300 foot level 
7:42 p.m. 
"Jesus! Don't come creeping up behind people like that!" Antonelli took a deep breath, reaching out to steady himself against Mulder's shoulder. 
"Are you okay?" The mine's temperature hovered at 55 degrees year round, but Antonelli looked feverish. Mulder could see a light sheen on his forehead. 
"I hate the mines," Antonelli shivered, a spark of fear behind his eyes. "When I was a kid I used to play in them with my friends. One of them died in a cave-in. I've never been able to go in a mine since. It just freaks me, you know?" 
Mulder gave a sympathetic nod. Antonelli's hand was still on his shoulder and Mulder realized that he was near collapse. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Antonelli must feel - he hadn't said a word about Rachel since this morning. 
It had been a long day, spent walking endless rock corridors without a sign of Rachel. At 2:00 the first shift had left and new officers had taken their place. Antonelli had refused to leave so Mulder and Scully had stayed down in the mine with him. Now they were slowly working their way back out of the mine. Scully had gone on ahead to judge the distance left. Mulder sensed that being down in the mine was making her just as uncomfortable as Antonelli. 
"Did you hear that?" Antonelli turned, looking back in the direction they had come from. 
Mulder paused, listening. There was nothing. Furthermore, they had walked that corridor twice now, there was nowhere that someone could have hidden. "Let's get you out of here," Mulder put his hand over Antonelli's, dismayed to feel how cold his skin was. "I think you're in shock. You need to sit down, get warm." 
"Oh god, what am I going to do?" Antonelli whispered, his knees buckling beneath him. Mulder stepped forward, bracing Antonelli between the mine's wall and himself. 
Scully came around the corner and quickly took Antonelli's other arm. "There's a bench up ahead," she said. "It's right by the shaft." 
They walked him between them to the bench. "I'm sorry," Antonelli mumbled as they helped him sit down. 
"I'll go ring for the cage to take us back up," Scully said. 
"Hang in there, buddy." Mulder slid his hand quickly over Antonelli's back and shoulders in an attempt to warm him. "Just hang in there." 
***** 
Sunday, October 11 
Silver King Hotel 
9:09 p.m. 
Scully was balancing the box awkwardly between her hip and the wall, searching her coat pocket for the key card when she heard Mulder's footsteps behind her. 
"Need a hand?" 
"Yes, thank you," she answered. "Can you grab this box?" 
Mulder took the box, leaning closer to murmur in her ear, "I'd rather search for your key." 
The unexpected overture sent a blush across her cheeks but she refrained from answering him, instead opening the door and turning the light on. 
"What have you got here?" Mulder hefted the box as he crossed her room to set it on a small table by the window. 
"Some of Collins' letters and belongings, sent on to Adelaide Harrington from the prison after his execution. I was going to look through it tonight." 
Mulder shrugged off his coat and then opened the box. "Want some company?" 
Scully shrugged and hung her coat up. Truthfully she didn't want company. She didn't even want to look through the box. She wanted nothing more than to crawl under the comforter and fall asleep. She kicked her shoes off and sat down heavily on the bed. Being down in the mine all day had been exhausting and she hoped that tonight might yield a dreamless sleep. She had been unable to go back to sleep the night before, despite Mulder's comforting presence. 
She glanced at Mulder, watching him sift slowly through the papers inside the box. He looked over at her and smiled. "Why don't you go wash up? I'll call for room service." 
"What?" Scully lifted her hand to comb back her hair. Mulder moved closer and reached out to touch her face, lifting her chin to look up at him.  Heat slid through her as his thumb stroked over her cheek softly. She fought to keep her eyes open, but she told herself it was only because she was tired. 
"Go take a look. You're filthy." 
"Filthy?" Scully rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom. The mirror revealed that Mulder hadn't been teasing her. Her face was streaked with traces of grease and mud. Her hair had given up any semblance of being styled from the humidity in the mine. She turned on the tap, letting the water heat up as she wet a washcloth. She held the warm cloth to her face, letting the heat soak into her skin. 
She sensed movement behind her and turned to find Mulder leaning against the door jamb with his arms folded. Under the bright light of the bathroom she could see that the mine had taken its toll on him as well. The day's accumulation of stubble was a little darker than usual. 
"You're perilously near 'filthy' yourself," she told him. 
"I've been accused of many things, but 'filthy' was never one of them." 
Scully opened her mouth with a snappy retort and then stopped. Was it her imagination or was he deliberating seducing her tonight? After so many years of working side-by-side with this man, of knowing him so well, he almost seemed a stranger to her. Part of wanted to step closer to him, be enveloped in his arms, sleep next to him again tonight. The rest of her feared the outcome of those actions. 
"What are we doing here, Mulder?" 
"Waiting for room service?" 
Scully gave the corner of her mouth a nervous lick and looked down at the floor. "That's not what I meant." 
"Good.  I didn't order any," Mulder said softly. "What do you want us to be doing?" 
Scully looked up quickly, blushing again. "Ground rules," she cleared her throat. "We set some ground rules, remember?" 
Mulder smiled and stepped closer to her. "You sneak into my bed late at night and then you tell me we have ground rules?" 
"That's right." Scully stood up straighter and placed one hand on his chest to stop his slow advance. Mulder glanced down at her hand and then back up at her, his smile widening. 
"Well, Scully, those ground rules guaranteed me one kiss from you today." He raised his hand to cover hers, holding it to his heart. "You gonna let me pick where?" 
Scully gently pulled her hand away and leaned forward, kissing where her hand had rested. Mulder closed his eyes, profoundly affected by the gesture. When he opened his eyes she was looking up at him, her mouth curved in the beginnings of a smile. 
"Too bad you used your kiss already, Mulder." 
Mulder stepped backwards, leaving her standing in the bathroom and headed towards his room. "Don't worry, Scully. Tomorrow will be here in less than three hours. You know where to find me." 
Scully shook her head in resignation and looked across the room at Adelaide's box. 
"Tomorrow," she whispered to herself and then started the water running for her bath. 
***** 
It's slow going, climbing in the dark. 
Reach, pull, balance. Wooden splinters sliding beneath the skin of desperate hands, causing the palm to slide instead of grip. 
Breathe. Reach, pull, balance. Take deep breaths, try to calm the shakiness in nervous legs and arms. 
Reach. Reach out again into the black, forcing cold fingers to bend and claw, hoping to find just one more handhold, another few inches higher on the beams criss-crossing the edges of the shaft. Hold on, shift a little higher and let go with the other hand. 
Pull. Pull with less strength than a few minutes ago but more strength than five minutes from now. 
Balance. Balance and try not to think about how far is left to go. Especially don't think about how far there is to fall. 
Reach. Pull. Balance. 
But in mines, especially old ones, there are always rotting timbers. So exhausted, when the fingers reached for that unstable beam. Unable to detect the way the wood gives until it's too late and there's nothing to balance on. 
Falling is neither silent nor swift. Every single beam climbed on the way up is still there, giving new meaning to the phrase "breaking a fall". 
***** 
Scully rolled over, pulling the pillow to her face to choke back a sob. He was dead. The young boy in the mine. He had fallen down a shaft and died while trying to climb out. Her heart ached as she wept silently into the pillow. She would never be able to admit it to Mulder, and could only half-admit it to herself, but she knew that he had been real and that he was reaching out to her now. 
But why? 
***** 
End 8/15 
Part 9 
Queen's Gambit 9/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Monday, October 12 
Ontario Mine, 1500 foot level 
11:47 a.m. 
"Does anyone have any questions?" 
Mrs. McKeeley's sixth grade class shuffled their feet but no one raised their hand. At the back of the group two boys poked each other. 
"Ask him," one of them whispered. 
"No - you!" the other returned. 
"You said you would," the first boy fumed. 
The guide motioned for everyone to come towards him. "All right then, if you'll all follow me we'll work our way over to the #2 shaft room." 
"Hey," the second boy grew bold. "My dad says the police were here all day yesterday. And I saw lots of cop cars in the parking lot. What's that about?" 
"Ummm," the guide thought for a moment. He hadn't been here yesterday but he'd heard all about the excitement. "They're searching for a missing person. So as long as everyone sticks with the group, we won't have to send them looking for you. Okay, everybody follow me." 
"Cool!" the first boy exclaimed. A murmur went up from the class as they followed the guide into another corridor. 
"Here at the Ontario we have surveyed as deep as 3200 feet. There's still plenty of silver left in this mountain but the current price of silver is less than the cost of pumping the water out." There was the distant sound of running water up ahead. "This part of the mine yielded a huge payload of silver - until the day they hit an underground river." 
The group came into a small chamber. Three tunnels connected to it;  the one at the far end was dammed up. Water spilled over the top of the three-foot high gate into a large drainage pipe. "So now the only thing we mine here at the Ontario is water. We have to pump the water on this level or else we lose all the equipment housed here, including the machinery for shaft #1, which we rode down to get here. We sell the water to some of the resorts here in Park City. That works out well for us - we sell them water, they make snow, the snow melts and next year we sell them the water again." 
Only Mrs. McKeeley gave an appreciative guffaw. The guide sighed to himself. He really needed to find another job, one with a little action. 
"Any questions?" he asked. 
The children all stared back with bored expressions. 
"Okay, let's all walk this way and we'll take a look at the #2 shaft room. It's not an true shaft since it doesn't go all the way to the surface but..." 
"Hey mister!" The boy who had asked about the police was pointing down the flooded shaft. "I think there's something back there." 
***** 
Monday, October 12 
Daly West Mine, 1500 foot level 
12:31 p.m. 
Scully was a few paces behind Mulder when she felt the air stir behind her. She whirled around, training her flashlight on... nothing. 
Mulder stopped, his light joining hers in shining down the tunnel. 
"What is it?" he asked her. 
"Nothing," Scully shook her head. "It was nothing. Let's go." 
They resumed walking and a few minutes later the sensation returned. This time Scully felt an urgency, an unspoken plea that sounded in her ears. 
Get out. 
She sucked in air, turning again to find nothing but emptiness behind her. 
"Scully?" Mulder had stopped and was now walking towards her. 
"It's nothing." Nerves, she told herself. The dreams keeping her awake at night were starting to affect her judgment. 
Leave. 
Scully flashed the light behind Mulder and he noted that her hand was shaking. She swallowed hard and Mulder reached out to touch her elbow. "Why don't you go back up to the surface? There's plenty topside you can be doing." 
You must leave this place. 
A rushing sound filled her head and Scully leaned back against the wall, her stomach twisting in fear as last night's horrifying dream came back to her. She felt dizzy, as if she were falling. She looked up at Mulder, her eyes wide as the realization set in. 
"Scully?" Mulder bent to look more closely at her. 
"Agents?" Sheriff Huitt's voice echoed towards them. "Agents, come on back." 
"They found Rachel," Scully whispered. "It was her, last night. It was her. She fell." 
***** 
Monday, October 12 
Silver King Hotel 
11:47 p.m. 
Scully opened her door to find her hotel room light on.  Mulder was nowhere in evidence. She took her coat off before flopping onto the bed and kicking her shoes off. She lay there quietly for a few minutes, finally picking out the faint drumming of a shower in the next room. She heard the water go off. A couple of minutes later Mulder came out of his bathroom dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. 
"Hey," he said softly, standing in her doorway. "Any preliminary results on the autopsy?" 
"Lots," Scully pushed herself up until she was sitting against the headboard of the bed. "Rachel wasn't strangled like the others. She drowned." 
Mulder's mouth twitched but he said nothing. 
"She had bruises all over her body, but no burn marks. I couldn't say for sure if a stun gun was used to subdue her or not but I would say that she was definitely taken from her home." 
Mulder bent his head, pressing his fingers to his eyes. "How do we know that?" 
"She was still wearing her pajamas." 
Mulder looked up. "Under her clothes? I saw her in the mine and she was wearing street clothes." 
"They were Karen's clothes. Huitt identified them a couple of hours ago for us." 
"She put them on to keep warm. Which means he took her to the same place he took Karen to kill her. He stripped her naked and left the clothes behind." Mulder walked to the chair by her window and sat down. "We used a recent survey of the mine, tried to figure out where the river is fed from, but there are just too many possibilities." 
Scully gave a nod. "I think he's keeping them near an abandoned shaft. Rachel tried to climb up the shaft and fell. She's covered with bruises and there were splinters in her hands and knees. She had a slight concussion on the left side of her head. My guess is she didn't really realize it when she hit the water. The temperature would have sent her into immediate shock and she drowned shortly thereafter." 
"Last night?" Mulder asked, watching her expression carefully. 
"Yes," Scully turned her face away. "Sometime last night." 
"You dreamed it." 
"No. Mulder, I..." Scully took a deep breath. "The dream I had last night was consistent with the dreams I was having before Rachel disappeared. That you see a connection between them is coincidence. Besides, I didn't dream about the water." 
"Oh, well, water. Sure." Mulder leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms and giving her an incredulous look. "Sometimes you amaze me, Scully." 
Scully glanced at the alarm clock. 12:03 a.m. She rose and picked her coat up from the foot of her bed, moving to hang it up in the wardrobe as she spoke. "I seem to spend a lot of time amazing you, Mulder." 
Mulder tilted his head, unsure if she was flirting with him or not. She turned to face him but neither one of them spoke. She took a hesitant step forward and then gave him a small smile. 
"Happy birthday, Mulder." 
He blinked at her, looked at the clock and then back at her. "I'd say for my birthday, I get to pick where you kiss me." 
She shook her head. "Not what I had in mind." 
"Ooooo, Agent Scully. Did you bring the handcuffs?" he asked as she crossed to stand behind him. Scully placed her hands on his shoulders.  "I don't think I saw daylight at all today," Mulder mumbled, relaxing into her touch.  Scully's hands squeezed his shoulders lightly, her thumbs kneading the ridge of his shoulder blades. 
"Mmmmm," he groaned, letting his head dropped forward as she massaged his neck. His hair was still damp from the shower; a tiny drop ran down the side of his neck. Scully bent and kissed it away. Mulder gave a small gasp, turning to glance back at her. 
Scully looked nearly as surprised as he felt. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his chin to his chest, waiting for her to continue. After a few long seconds, she did, her fingers gently stroking over the back of his neck. Silence filled the room, each of them thinking back on the night in Morgantown. 
Scully took deep, even breaths. She was going to do it. Tonight. She would kiss his lips. A quick kiss, to be certain, but it would be a start. Anything more would be too much of a start. 
But, oh, her breath caught - how would it be to make love slowly to Mulder? Not the frenzied rush of Morgantown, instead an unhurried, achingly slow seduction. Heat flashed through her belly before sliding out to her arms and legs. She closed her eyes, remembering the tender way he had kissed her afterwards. Slow and sweet, his hands stroking leisurely across her back, much the same way she was touching him now. 
With a sickening lurch of her stomach she remembered how she had reacted. The way she had left him. Mulder had told her what he had wanted from her that night - he simply didn't want her to leave. She realized now that she had wanted the same thing. She had wanted him back. He may have thought he was losing her but she had been losing him just as certainly. Not to Diana but to the rift that had sprung up between them after the X-Files closed. 
Scully felt a surge of gratitude for Mulder. For his dogged determination in saving her, not just from a distant frozen grave, but from herself. His beliefs, however irrational they sometimes were, challenged her and kept her from becoming a caricature of herself. He appealed to the nearly forgotten child in her. His sense of wonder in a world that had treated him so callously was reassuring somehow. 
She bent down, her heart aching with love for him and kissed his neck again. Mulder closed his eyes, giving himself over to the sensation as she placed a line of kisses along his jaw. She moved to stand in front of him, still softly kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Mulder's hands reached forward and rested on her hips, urging her closer. 
"Tell me what you want for your birthday, Mulder." she whispered as she nipped at his earlobe. 
"Whatever you're planning is fine." 
"I wasn't planning this." Mulder guided her down and Scully came willingly, sitting on his left leg, her right arm around his shoulders. She raised her hand to comb his hair back. "I have been thinking, Mulder, that maybe I was being hasty when I said we were being hasty." 
"Scully, don't tease." Mulder kissed the join of her shoulder and neck. 
Scully wrapped both arms around him, holding him to her. "We need to set some new rules." 
Mulder lifted his head from her shoulder, meeting her eyes and nodded. "I'm fielding all suggestions." 
Neither spoke, their eyes searching each others, the implications sinking in. 
"So I guess there aren't any rules tonight, Mulder." 
His eyes darkened and she kissed the corner of his mouth, not daring to kiss his lips just yet. Mulder gave her a smile, "No rules?" 
Scully considered, swallowed, and then spoke. "I think my gift to you should be a moratorium on the one-kiss-a-day rule." 
"You're only saying that because you're over your limit." 
"What are you going to do about it?" 
His hand stroked along her side slowly, just missing her breast, and she fought the urge to move so his fingers would rest where she really wanted them. "I'm going to kiss you, Scully." 
Scully took in a shaky breath. "Anywhere interesting?" 
Mulder gave her a lazy smile. "Everywhere interesting." 
Before she could reply, he slid one hand into her hair, pulling her mouth to his. Yes, god yes, she thought as his lips angled slowly against hers. Her whole body thrummed with excitement as the kiss deepened. She shifted on his lap, moving closer to him. His tongue teased hers, intensifying the ache to feel him inside her. Mulder moaned, his arms tightening around her before he slid an arm under her legs and stood up. Cradling her against his chest he moved towards the bed. The room seemed to spin as her mind repeated his last words over and over. 
Everywhere interesting. 
He laid her carefully on the bed, leaning over her without putting his weight on her. He gave her a few soft kisses, barely brushing her lips with his. Mulder's fingers brushed the hair away from her face before tracing the outline of her jaw. Then he stood up, stepping away from the bed, just looking at her. Under his heated gaze Scully fought to keep her breathing even, anticipation making her heart hammer against her breastbone. His eyes wandered appreciatively over her body. Scully felt her nipples tighten, remembering the feeling of that mouth on her. 
"Come here, Mulder." She stretched her hand out. 
He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. "I was going to impress you with my self-control and leave." 
"There's more than one way to impress a gal." 
Mulder gave her the lopsided smile that always melted her resolve. "Not tonight," he said kneeling next to the bed as she rolled over to face him. 
"Not while on assignment," she clarified. 
Mulder nodded and leaned forward to kiss her forehead chastely. "But as soon as we're back in D.C., I'll be wanting my birthday gift." 
Scully smiled and gave him a small nod. Mulder ran his hand lightly across her shoulder and down her arm, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze when he reached them. Letting out a huge sigh, he stood and moved to leave her room. 
"Hey, Scully," he leaned back through the connecting doorway. 
"Yes?" 
"Lock this door tonight." 
"You don't scare me, Mulder." 
He gave her a wolfish smile and her stomach fluttered. "Lock it anyway." 
Scully's eyebrow lifted. He winked at her and shut the door. Heaving her own sigh, Scully crossed the room and locked the door. 
***** 
End 9/15 
Part 10 
Queen's Gambit 10/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Tuesday, October 13 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
9:19 a.m. 
Adelaide's box sat in the middle of the conference table, its contents spilled out in front of Mulder, Scully and Antonelli. A t.v. in the corner played the video tape that had been found in the box. An interview with Collins by one of the local t.v. stations had been first on the tape; now it was showing the exterior of the prison from the night of his execution. 
Antonelli shook his head as Mulder rewound the tape. "I don't know what you think you'll find on there. Collins is dead and we're just wasting time playing with his junk." He threw the scrapbook in front of him back in the box. "If he's taking them all to the same place we need to be looking for it. He may have left more behind than just their clothes. He may have left fingerprints or something that will help us nail him." Antonelli continued to gather up papers, stuffing them in the box, his movements jerky. 
"We have officers searching in the mines," Mulder said. "Maybe you should take a couple of hours, go home, get some rest." 
"Dammit! I won't, you know I won't. I'll rest when we find him." Antonelli began to tremble.  He pressed his lips together tightly as he fought for control of his emotions. "I'm going up to the mine," he said, picking up his coat. "I can't just sit here, waiting for you to start reading minds." 
Antonelli left the room just as the video of Collins began to play again. Mulder looked over at Scully, "I'm going with him," he told her. 
Mulder caught up to Antonelli in the parking lot, falling into step beside him. "Who is he?" Antonelli stopped walking, turning to grab Mulder's arm. "I don't want to hear your mumbo-jumbo about white male, 25-40, above average intelligence. I don't want to hear that bullshit. I just want you to tell me who he is and how we find him." 
"I think it's more complicated than that." 
"Shit," Antonelli resumed walking to his truck, calling out over his shoulder. "You don't have a fucking clue, do you?" 
"I believe that Collins set this whole thing up. But our killer is in it for another reason." Mulder followed him to the truck. "Collins is just a means to an end for him, a way to throw us off his trail." 
"So we're chasing ghosts and not the killer?" Antonelli climbed in the truck, leaning over to unlock the door for Mulder. "But you're the only one chasing ghosts, Mulder. The idea may have crossed my mind but I certainly wouldn't have taken it seriously." 
"I don't necessarily mean that he's using Collins as a cover for his identity. I meant that he's using Collins as a cover for his motive." 
"So what's his motive?" Antonelli started the truck. 
"It's a game to him. He's smarter than us, or thinks he is. This is his way of getting our attention." 
"Getting our attention?" Antonelli's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. "He killed Rachel and Karen and those other girls simply to get our attention? What the hell did he plan on doing after he had it?" 
"Why did he want our attention in the first place? Let's get a list of everyone who was involved with the original investigation. We need to start looking for someone who feels they got slighted the first time around." 
***** 
Scully was half-watching Collins' interview on t.v. as she slowly put away his possessions. After Antonelli's outburst there wasn't much left to clean up. 
"Dana, can I have a minute?" 
Scully turned around to see Lewis Scully in the doorway. 
"Certainly," she lifted the remote to turn down the volume on the t.v. "Come on in." 
Lewis ducked his head but didn't enter the room. "I won't be here long, I need to get going. I was going to call and talk to you but I felt like this should really be done in person." He cleared his throat and took a hesitant step forward. 
"What's that?" Scully prompted. 
"I'm sure by now you've looked at the list of Collins' visitors. I know that it must have looked like I was hedging on it." Lewis sat down next to Scully, reaching his hand out as if he meant to touch hers before pulling his hand back and cracking his knuckles instead. 
"I did visit Collins in prison. I didn't say anything at first because I didn't think it was relevant but I realized last night that it looks rather suspicious." 
Scully said nothing, waiting for him to continue. 
"Collins was my first big case. I know Mulder got all the kudos in the press but it certainly helped my cache around the office. It also broadened my horizons, got me interested in what creates monsters like Collins." 
Lewis paused, turning to watch the t.v again. 
"I've been going to school nights at the University of Utah to get a degree in psychology. Rumor has it that A.D. Logan is looking for new talent in the VCS. God knows I'm going nowhere here in Salt Lake. I went to visit Collins before he was executed to try and get a glimpse of the why and how of him for my thesis." 
"And did you?" 
Lewis looked Scully in the eye. "Only in the limited sense. Collins was a game player. He only showed you what he thought you wanted to see. If you wanted to see a psychotic lunatic, that's what he showed you." Lewis gestured at the t.v. "In the case of Adelaide Harrington, he was a 'dear boy' who somehow went horribly wrong." 
"You know Adelaide?" 
Lewis nodded. "I made this tape for her." They both watched as the interview ended. The picture rolled a couple of times and then showed the outside of the prison. "She asked me if I would, I don't know, sorta document for her the Collins that I saw." 
"Really? I met Adelaide. I got the impression that she didn't believe Collins was capable of such violence." 
Lewis shrugged and stood up. "I'm just telling you my impression. Look, I need to leave. We've had a family emergency," he cleared his throat. "I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea about me." 
***** 
Tuesday, October 13 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
5:43 p.m. 
Scully was opening her car door when Mulder and Antonelli returned. She paused, waiting in the opened door as Mulder jogged across the parking lot to talk to her. 
"Ditching me so soon?" He gave her a tired smile. "You should stay for the party. I found a piñata that looks just like Kersh's head." 
"I wanted to go talk to Adelaide again. I'll be back in an hour." Scully watched Antonelli trudging wearily towards the building. "How's he doing?" 
Mulder shook his head. "We still haven't found anything in the mines." 
"Lewis dropped by this morning just after you left. He admitted to visiting Collins but claims he was just doing research for his psychology thesis." 
Mulder raised his eyebrows. "You believe that?" 
"It's worth checking into. He had to leave in a hurry but, at the very least, we should look at the notes he made on those visits." 
Mulder glanced over his shoulder as Antonelli climbed the stairs. "Antonelli told me he had audio tapes from the visits he and Huitt made. I'm going to run through them tonight. Hurry back and I'll teach you the finer points of wire tap duty." 
Scully got into the car. "I'd rather bat that piñata around." 
"It's a date." Mulder shut the car door, giving her a small wave before he turned and went inside. 
***** 
Tuesday, October 13 
Adelaide Harrington's Home 
6:04 p.m. 
"Why hello!" Adelaide smiled widely, all her teeth in place. "Did you decide to arrest me after all?" 
"No," Scully returned the smile. "I just wanted to ask you a few more questions. Do you mind? Is this a bad time?" 
"Come in, come in!" Adelaide seemed quite pleased to have a visitor. "I was just settling in to watch the news. There was a teaser about Park City, some girl they found in the mine yesterday. Do you know anything about that?" 
Scully looked down at the floor as Adelaide shut the door. "You knew that Rachel disappeared?" 
"Why yes, that was the day you came to visit me..." Adelaide trailed off, the realization sinking in. "Oh dear Lord," she whispered. "Not Rachel." 
Adelaide reached out, taking hold of Scully's arm for support. Scully led her to the couch, helping her to sit and taking a seat beside her. Adelaide continued to hold Scully's arm, her fingers trembling. 
"How is Jessie doing?" Adelaide asked, her eyes wet. "They were so close, those two. So sweet with each other." 
"He's hanging in there," Scully told her. "He's very determined to find the person who did this." 
"Oh heavens, yes. Jessie always did have a one-track mind. That boy, when he was younger, he never missed a trick. He was always two steps ahead of the rest of us." Adelaide gave her a watery smile. "What was it that you wanted to ask me?" 
"There was another FBI agent who came to talk to you? A man named Lewis Scully?" 
"Oh yes, Lewis. A very nice young man. He was doing a paper about Randy, but it was very hush-hush. He didn't want me to tell anyone." 
"He said that?" Scully leaned forward. 
"No, no. Well, not in so many words. He just seemed rather secretive about the whole thing. He wanted to hear about what Randy was like as a boy. He was looking for some kind of factor or something-or-other he called it. Reasons why Randy would turn out badly." Adelaide leaned back, resting against the back of the couch with her eyes closed. 
"I still don't see any reason for it. In my opinion death frightened Randy. He and Jessie had a close brush with it as children, there was an accident that claimed the life of one of their friends. The three of them used to play in the mines, despite stern warnings from their parents. One day the mine caved in and only Jessie and Randy made it out." 
Adelaide opened her eyes, staring across the room without blinking. "Randy was never the same after that. He became withdrawn and moody. At the end of that summer they began junior high and fell in with different crowds. Jessie was into sports, Randy started in with a rougher group. I didn't see the two of them together much after that." 
Adelaide gave Scully's arm a squeeze. "But where are my manners? A cold night like this and I don't offer you anything?" She struggled to her feet, waving off Scully's attempt to help her. "Let me just get us both a cup of tea, then you can ask your questions." 
***** 
Tuesday, October 13 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
8:40 p.m. 
After over two hours of listening to Randy Collins ramble and brag Mulder was ready for a break. God, he had hated wiretap duty. Truthfully his attention had begun to wander.  Antonelli had been right, there wasn't anything useful on them. 
On the tape Collins had lapsed into silence, the sudden absence of voice snapping Mulder back to reality. What was the last question? He rewound the tape to hear Antonelli wearily asking where Sarah Fitzgerald's body was. 
"You're boring me, Jess. You're a one note tune. Borrrrr-ing," Collins sang. "Here we sit, old buddies..." Antonelli gave a snorting laugh. "No? Okay, well, we had some good times as kids, didn't we?" 
"That was a long time ago. Before you picked psychopath as your career." 
"I never gave much thought to a career. Guess that's how I ended up like I did. You, though, you always knew what you were gonna be. So what happened to that? How come you're still walking around Park City waving your little nightstick?" 
"I like Park City. It's home." 
"Yeah, you're a fucking pillar of the community, ain't ya? Bet you never tell anyone about how we was kids together, the stuff we used to do." 
Antonelli sighed. "Where did you put Sarah, Randy?" 
Collins hummed tunelessly for half a minute before asking softly, "Do you ever think about Bob?" 
There was a pause, lasting nearly a minute. As the tape hissed and scratched Mulder wondered if perhaps it had actually ended. Then Antonelli answered. "No." 
"I do," Collins sighed. "I think about him all the time. I guess I'll be seeing him soon, eh?" 
Antonelli didn't reply, instead there was a squeal as he pushed his chair impatiently away from the table. "Quit fucking with me, Randy. Where's Sarah Fitzgerald?" 
Collins laughed. "She's with Bob, man. We all will be before this is over." 
"She's in the mine?" 
"Bob ain't in the mine. Don't you get that yet?" Collins' laugh turned high-pitched and Mulder could hear him hitting the table in his glee. "He's out, man. He's out and he's mad as hell." 
"You should have plead insanity," Antonelli told him. "You're certifiable." There was a clatter as he picked up the recorder, muffling Collins' continued laughter. "Interview is terminated at, uh, 3:06 p.m." 
***** 
Tuesday, October 13 
Daly Avenue 
8:54 p.m. 
Another storm had moved in, the wind blowing the falling snow so that it appeared to be coming down sideways. Scully realized she was hunched over the steering wheel and forced herself to sit back. Through the white fury beating down on the car she was able to make out a stop sign up ahead. She stopped, looked both ways and then pushed down on the gas. The back tires spun but the car didn't move. 
"Come on," she muttered, willing the car forward. She stepped harder on the gas and the car lurched into the intersection. There was a honk and she instinctively steered to her right, just missing the Suburban that seemed to have come from nowhere. She turned the wheel left to correct but the car continued to move to its right. She slammed on the brakes, sending the back end of the car off the road. When the car stopped its front end was at least three feet higher than the back end. 
Scully opened her door and tentatively stepped out. Her foot slid through the snow and she found herself skiing backwards down the side of a drainage ditch. She grabbed at the car door but missed, ending up face down for her trouble. For the briefest of moments she was grateful that no one was around to witness her pratfall. 
Pushing herself upright, she felt in her pocket for her cell phone but it wasn't there. Scully carefully climbed up the side of the ditch and opened the car door. No phone. Had she lost it in the snow? She looked back down the embankment and then turned to look down Main Street. There was a hotel half a block away. It would be faster, and warmer, to just walk there and call for a tow truck. Scully let out a small sigh and hunched her shoulders within her coat, setting out across the street. 
She had reached the opposite side of the street when a truck pulled up alongside her. The passenger side door came open. 
"Dana? Need a ride?" 
Gratitude filled her as she recognized the voice. "Thanks! What I really need is the number for a towing company." 
"Climb in, I'll take you. It's not a fit night for man nor beast." 
Scully climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut and settling back on the bench seat. At the click of the doors' locks her mind clicked over the niggling thought she'd been having all day. 
The prison footage at the end of Adelaide's tape. There had been a truck parked at the side of the Frontage Road when the van with Collins' body drove past. This was the same truck. 
At that moment Scully knew she had accepted the wrong ride on this snowy night. 
***** 
End 10/15 
Part 11 
  
  
Queen's Gambit 11/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Tuesday, October 13 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
9:03 p.m. 
"Those girls, they never noticed me. They never thought of me as anything special."  Randall Collins gave the camera a nasty smile. "But you should have heard them, 'Oh Randy, please don't! Don't hurt me!' They were begging me, man! Begging..." he broke off into a chuckle. "They noticed me all right." 
Mulder looked down at the picture on the table. Three boys, probably only nine or ten, slouching against a low fence trying to look tough or maybe they were squinting their eyes against the bright sunlight. That had to be Antonelli in the middle, the tall tow-headed boy with a crew cut. The boy on his right was Collins, his arms crossed and his lips twisted in a sneer that was an early precursor to the malice in his future mug shots. The third boy was smaller and slighter but three decades had not dimmed his freckles. Mulder flipped the picture over but there was no clue as to the third boy's identity. 
Setting the picture aside, Mulder picked up the list Antonelli had drafted of all law enforcement agents involved in the first investigation. It ran to over a hundred names since Antonelli had been thorough and included everyone who had had even a peripheral role. Too many names. 
Too many years. Why wait until now to get even? On screen Collins began to howl and wail, enjoying himself immensely as he imitated one of his victims. Mulder hit the mute button, letting Collins continue his disgusting act in silence. 
The original idea had been Collins'. Somewhere along the way he had convinced someone else to play along. Someone who, unbeknownst to Collins, had his own agenda. Mulder looked up, watching Collins laugh silently. Collins had enjoyed killing those girls. He had done it because he had enjoyed the power it had given him. He had done it because he had craved the sexual rush associated with torturing the girls. He had enjoyed the fear that his crimes had sent through this small town. And he had enjoyed the idea that he could make Park City fear him again from beyond the grave. 
"Agent Mulder?" Mulder looked up to see Huitt in the doorway. "Do you need a ride?" 
"No," Mulder shook his head. "Scully called and said she was on her way back to the station." He glanced at his watch. "But that was half an hour ago." 
"The roads are pretty bad out there," Huitt said, giving Mulder a reassuring smile. "Where was she coming from?" 
"Adelaide Harrington's." 
"Empire Canyon," Huitt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "She might be stuck in a snowbank. That's a tricky road, especially without snow tires. I'm going past there on my way home, I'll keep an eye out for her." Huitt lifted his hand in farewell and left. 
Mulder tilted Adelaide's box to get at the loose papers still on the bottom. He lifted out an 8 x 10 manila envelope, turning it over to see "Mulder" written on the outside. Mulder blinked. He knew what the envelope contained. Knew already that Scully wasn't coming back from Adelaide's. His fingers shook as he tore at one end to open it. 
The strong gods pine for my abode, 
And pine in vain the sacred Seven; 
But thou, meek lover of the good! 
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven. 
Nb3 Rc6; Nd4 Rc7; Nb5 Rc5; Nxc3 Nxc3; Rxc3 Rxc3; Rxc3 Qb2.  
On t.v. Collins stood up, silently shouting and pointing at the camera, his face contorted with fury. 
***** 
When Scully awoke it was dark. So dark she wasn't sure for a few moments if she was awake or dreaming. She pushed herself to a sitting position, her muscles protesting from hours of inactivity and the cold, slightly damp surface she had been laying on. Her heart squeezed painfully at the realization that this wasn't a dream.  She took a deep breath, trying to force herself to relax, to think. It didn't quite work, she could feel the fear bubbling up inside her. 
She stretched her hands out slowly in front of her. Nothing. She felt to her right and then to her left before connecting with a rock wall. Her hand pressed against it as she shifted to stand, her balance precarious in the dark. She stood slowly; her shoulders hunched and head tucked down as if she expected to meet up with the ceiling at any second. 
Her legs trembled beneath her as she rose. Her breathing sounded frantic and harsh in her ears as she gulped in air. Once she was standing erect she raised her right hand, tentatively feeling for the roof of the tunnel. She found it and judged that she had about eight or nine inches of headroom. 
Her eyes began to ache from straining into the blackness. She took slower breaths, listening for... anything. Anything to give her a clue. There was a distant drip of water and the ticking of her watch. Her watch! She touched her watch, pushing in the button. An eerie blue-green light shone out, seeming brighter than daylight in the inky air. 3:23. Morning or afternoon she wondered? The date read "14", giving no clue other than that it was already tomorrow. What time did she get in the truck? Just past nine? Closer to 8:30? She couldn't remember. 
Which way was out? Worse, was she near an open shaft? Would she fall into a shaft if she tried to walk out? How would she even know she was going the right direction? What if she wandered further into the mine instead of out? She had to be near the same place that Rachel and the other victims had been taken. 
Scully illuminated her watch face again. 3:24. She held the light on and moved her wrist around. It didn't help; there was no way to use the watch to see. Dejected she dropped her hands and then raised them again, frantically searching her coat pocket for the flashlight she kept in it. 
Hey Scully, light? 
Mulder had it. She had given him the light when they checked out Karen's Explorer. 
"Damn," she leaned back against the rock wall, her mind racing. 
The dripping sound was coming from her left. She wondered if that was where the shaft was. For a few paralyzing seconds Rachel's dream came back to her, causing her stomach to twist in fear. Pushing her apprehension away Scully turned to her right and began to feel her way slowly in the dark. She counted off her steps, mapping out in her mind this prison as she cautiously inched forward. 
***** 
Wednesday, October 14 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
5:24 a.m. 
"Remember when you told me to get some rest?" Antonelli asked, trying unsuccessfully to smile. "Well, it's time I returned the favor." 
Mulder shook his head, pushing past Antonelli to enter the conference room. "I'm not tired." 
"Bullshit." Antonelli followed him inside. "You look like hell." 
"I wouldn't cast stones if I were you," Mulder gestured at Antonelli's disheveled appearance. "Do you even change your clothes anymore?" 
"I happen to like this shirt." Antonelli succeeded in drawing a fleeting smile from Mulder. "We're going to find her. We have three days and we've already ruled out nearly half the tunnels." 
Mulder picked up Adelaide's box, dumping its contents onto the table. "He was here. We all went through that box yesterday morning and that envelope wasn't in there." 
"Then we just need to narrow down the list to people who had access to this room." Antonelli picked up the list. "You said something last night about Lewis Scully? Was he in here yesterday?" 
Mulder began to pace in a tight circle. "He came in and spoke with Scully. To my knowledge he didn't put anything in the box, Scully would have noticed something like that." 
"But would Lewis really do it? I mean, sure we joshed around with him ten years ago, but that doesn't seem like the sort of thing that drives a man to murder." Antonelli gave a helpless shrug. 
Mulder stopped, shuffling through the papers on the table. "Where's that list?" 
"What list?" Antonelli shook his head. 
"The list of Collins' visitors. There's someone we're overlooking." Mulder found the list, running his finger over the names. "We have you. We have Huitt. We have Lewis. Hell, we even have Adelaide a couple of times. Some reporters." Mulder tossed the list to Antonelli. "Most of these visits are well documented. The only ones I doubt were recorded are the ones with Adelaide but I have a hard time wrapping my mind around an ninety year old woman subduing and strangling five young healthy women. Even if she did use a stun gun." 
"I've been trying to get in touch with Lewis ever since you called me last night - no luck." 
"Let's try again," Mulder said. "I'd like to hear what he got from his interviews with Collins." Antonelli picked up the phone to call Lewis, handing the visitor list back to Mulder. 
"Who are we missing?" Mulder muttered as he scanned through the names. 
***** 
  
Scully could have sworn she had been creeping along for days but her watch indicated that it was only 7:56. Only four and a half hours since she had awoken in this dark hell. In that time she had worked her way down one long corridor only to find a large wooden door blocking her way. With anguish she remembered the splinters in Anne Wyman's hands. Chances were Anne had made it this far as well. For a couple of minutes Scully leaned against the door, alternately angry and despairing. 
Which way now? 
First things first. The mine no longer seemed cold, after walking so long it she was becoming quite warm. Scully took off her coat, tying it around her waist. Then she turned around and started counting her way back the way she had come, this time using the opposite wall. 
After five hundred and sixty-three steps she reached her starting point but pressed on. Twenty-nine steps later the wall ended. Scully drew back, her pulse racing. Her foot tapped hesitantly forward, meeting with solidity. She felt along the wall again, this time discerning a corner. She shuffled her foot around it, relieved to find the ground remained firm beneath her. 
Scully turned the corner and began counting again, starting over at one. 
Thirty-eight steps later she stopped. Scully turned, tilting her head to listen. Drip. Drip. Drip. 
Drip. 
Drip. 
Scully was about to start resume walking when she heard the shuffling noise again. She swallowed hard, her hand reaching automatically for the weapon that should have been clipped on the back of her belt. 
There was a muffled clatter and then she saw a beam of light skip across the rock about twenty feet in front of her. It was coming from the junction she had turned just a few minutes earlier. She tensed against the wall, every muscle in her body shouting "run!". 
The light grew larger, the footsteps became more distinct. 
And then a boy rounded the corner, his flashlight shining into her eyes. She squinted and raised her hand to block the beam as her eyes watered. 
"Geez, lady, are you lost?" he asked. 
***** 
End 11/15 
Part 12 
  
Queen's Gambit 12/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Wednesday, October 14 
Summit County Sheriff's Office 
9:14 a.m. 
Mulder sat at the conference room table, tapping absent-mindedly on the picture of Collins, Antonelli and the unidentified boy. 
I keep having this dream about a young boy, probably eleven or twelve, and he's buried alive... 
Bob ain't in the mine, man. He's out... 
Mulder picked up the evidence bag containing the note found with Leslie Parker. His finger traced over Collins' writing, "They know not the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again." 
Was Bob the boy in Scully's dreams? What if Collins was right and Bob really was out there? But if that were true why would he want revenge against the people who put Collins away? 
"Mulder?" Lewis Scully stepped into the conference room, setting a box down on the table. "I heard about Dana, I'm so sorry." Mulder blinked at him and then gestured at the box. "I see you've come bearing gifts." 
"My thesis," Lewis took a three-ring binder from inside the box, handing it to Mulder. 
"A Loner, A Killer: Socioeconomic Determinants in the Development of Adolescent Violence," Mulder read aloud and then tossed it back into Lewis' box. "I'm a little pressed for time here, suppose you summarize." 
"Collins has never felt truly in control of his life, even when he killed those girls. He was doing it to impress someone else." 
Mulder gave a nod, picking up where Lewis left off. "His father left before he was born. Collins spent his entire life alternately adoring his mother for raising him and hating her for driving his father away. He was constantly attaching himself to authority figures, looking for the father he never had." 
Lewis pulled out the chair next to Mulder and sat down. "It's my opinion that Collins looked at this as one last prank," Lewis gestured at the evidence bags on the table. 
"And to think my teachers said a cherry bomb in the girl's restroom was incorrigible," Mulder murmured. 
"There's someone I want you to meet," Lewis said. "A woman named Adelaide Harrington. She knew Collins as a boy. I think she can give you a different sort of insight into what drove him." 
***** 
"How?" Scully sputtered, relief flooding through her. "Where did you come from?" 
"Back there," the boy gestured with the light. "What are you doing in here? Don't you have a flashlight?" 
Scully walked toward him, "You need to show me how to get out of here. It's very important." 
The boy didn't move, giving her a disgusted look. "And then you'll tell my dad and I'll be grounded. I don't think so. Besides, I'm waiting for someone." The boy stepped back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed defiantly making the flashlight's beam point at the roof of the mine. 
"Look, you don't want to be in here." Scully pulled her coat from around her waist, searching the pockets for her ID. "I'm a federal officer and I believe this mine is a crime scene. You and your friend cannot be in here. Not to mention that it's just plain dangerous to be wandering around in a mine." 
The boy laughed. "At least I have a flashlight! Talk about dangerous." 
"What's your name?" Scully asked. 
"What's yours?" he snapped back. 
Scully held her badge close to his face. "See there, where it says 'Special Agent Dana Scully'? Now what's your name?" 
The boy pushed off the wall, shining his light on her badge. His eyes widened when he realized that it was real. "Robert Elliott, ma'am.  Am I in trouble for being in here?" 
"Do you come in here a lot, Robert?" 
He shrugged. "Me and my friends come here sometimes, but we're always very careful. You have to be. There are lots of shafts in here.  And just call me 'Bob'.  'Robert' makes it sound like I'm in trouble." 
"I really do need to get out of here, Bob. Can you help me?" 
Bob gave a glum nod and shone the light down the tunnel in the direction he had come from. "Okay. But if my friend shows up we have to hide, it's a game we're playing." 
***** 
Wednesday, October 14 
Main Street 
9:57 a.m. 
Lewis pulled over when they reached Scully's Taurus and the two men walked towards it to take a closer look. It was slanted down the drainage ditch, Scully's struggle up the embankment still visible in the snow. 
"Did he force her off the road?" Lewis asked. 
"I don't think so.  I think she just slipped getting out of the car." Mulder pointed down to where Scully's footprints came to the side of the road. He walked across the road and pointed again. "See here? She came across the road and started down Main Street." 
"There's no struggle," Lewis mused. "She knew her abductor." 
Mulder gave Lewis a tired smile. "Until about an hour ago I thought it was you." 
"What changed your mind?" 
"Ralph Waldo Emerson." 
"Come again?" 
Mulder turned and headed back to Lewis' truck. "If the red slayer think he slays, or if the slain think he is slain. They know not the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again." 
Lewis shook his head. "I'm not following you." 
"The poem has four stanzas. Four victims. Leslie, Anne, Karen and now Scully." 
"What about Rachel?" 
"Rachel didn't get a poem or any chess moves. I thought at first it was because she was found too early but now I think that Rachel was part of another agenda. Antonelli taped his interviews with Collins. In one of them Collins spoke of a friend from childhood who was looking for a revenge of his own. I think it's possible that this friend is working with Collins and went behind his back, so to speak, to get Antonelli too." 
***** 
Scully wished Bob would walk a little faster. She had passed him and now was walking just beyond the glow of the flashlight, trying to get him to increase his pace a little. 
"Can you shine the light further down?" she asked him. 
"Sure," Bob replied unenthusiastically, tilting the light so that the beam illuminated far off down the tunnel. Far enough that she could see the wooden door that had stopped her the first time. 
"Does that door open?" Scully turned around to ask Bob. 
"Not from this side," he sighed. "You can't get out that way. I keep telling everyone that but they never listen to me." 
"Everyone? The other women who were here? Did you see them?" 
"Shhhh." He held a finger to his lips. "He's coming." 
"Who's coming?" 
"Hide!" he whispered urgently turning the flashlight off. For a few seconds Scully felt the darkness wheeling around her, disorienting her all over again. 
"Bob," she called. "Turn the flashlight back on." 
"Shhhh." His voice sounded far away. With her hand to the wall Scully took a few steps in his direction and then she heard the door open at the far end. She turned around and saw the outline of a man for a brief second. Her blood ran cold. 
Oh god. He's come back. 
***** 
Wednesday, October 14 
Adelaide Harrington's Home 
10:36 a.m. 
"Oh my," Adelaide smoothed her fingers over the picture. "I haven't seen this in years. You say it was with Randy's things?" Mulder pointed to the third boy. "You know who this boy is?" 
"Bob Elliott," Adelaide looked out her kitchen window, her hands trembling slightly. "The three of them were thick as thieves." 
"He died in the mine?" Mulder asked gently. 
"Yes, years ago. I told you all this before," Adelaide said to Lewis. "There was an accident one day in the mine and Bob was killed seen again." 
When I was a kid I used to play in them with my friends. One of them died in a cave-in... 
Bob ain't in the mine. Don't you get that yet? 
"Which mine?" Mulder leaned forward. "Do you remember which mine they played in?" 
"Just up the canyon," Adelaide waved her right hand. "They filled the entrance with concrete after the accident." 
Mulder sat back, disappointed. Adelaide stared dreamily out the kitchen window again and Mulder turned to follow her gaze. There was an old shed, built directly against the mountain in Adelaide's small backyard. It was leaning wearily to the left on its foundation. Adelaide broke her reverie, smiling at Mulder. 
"Do you know that shed always scared Randy? He'd never go near it. He swore it was haunted." Adelaide shook her head and chuckled. "Haunted, I ask you, have you ever heard such a story? He told all the neighborhood kids and none of them would go in there. So Jessie has always mowed my lawn and shoveled my driveway. You can see what a fine job he does. He was out here just last night, moving something heavy into the shed. Probably another bag of salt." 
Mulder stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair. "What time?" 
"Oh, I don't know. It was after 'Nova'. Maybe around nine o'clock?" Adelaide watched in bewilderment as Mulder raced for the front door. "My goodness," she told Lewis. "It's only a bag of salt." 
***** 
End 12/15 
Part 13 
  
  
Queen's Gambit 13/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
Wednesday, October 14 
Adelaide Harrington's Home 
10:51 a.m. 
"Mulder!" Lewis ran across the driveway in pursuit of Mulder, bewildered, as he saw Mulder draw his gun and enter the shed. 
"What going on?" he asked after he followed Mulder inside and found him standing in the center of the shed, gun down at his side. 
"You see that?" Mulder gestured at a nearly empty bag of rock salt. 
"Yeah," Lewis nodded. "It's the same salt de-icing the driveway." 
"It's the only bag in here." 
Lewis looked around. The accumulated junk of a lifetime was stored in the shed. An old lawn mower, an assortment of gardening tools, a trunk, a lamp without its shade, and a rolled-up carpet were scattered about them but Mulder was right. There wasn't another large bag. 
"Antonelli?" Lewis nudged the bag of salt with his toe. "You think he carried Scully in here last night?" Lewis lifted the lid on the trunk, revealing moldering books and the stained test tubes and beaker from an old chemistry set. "But where is she now?" 
"Wherever he's got her, he also has an hour's head start on us," Mulder said, pulling a flashlight from his pocket. With a pang he realized it was Scully's. "He left just before you arrived this morning to go home and shower." The two of them began to search through the shed, shuffling boxes aside as they made their way to the back of the structure. 
There was a long workbench with tools scattered across the top at the far end of the shed. Its left end was pulled away from the wall a couple of feet. Mulder came closer and saw two large hooks high on the wall. There was also a metal ring hanging about four feet off the ground in the center of the wall. Shining his light into the corner he saw three rusted hinges. It wasn't a wall, Mulder realized, it was a door. A long heavy board leaned against the leg of the table - the door's crossbar. 
He gestured to Lewis and the two of them silently advanced on the door. Lewis took up a position at the end of the workbench and gave Mulder a nod. After a silent count of three Mulder pulled on the ring. The door creaked open and Mulder stepped inside. Lewis came to stand behind him, leaning to look around him into the blackness. 
"What's back there?" Lewis asked. 
Mulder shone the light around, finding only a silent tunnel. "Ten bucks says it ain't Elvis." 
***** 
Scully flattened herself against the wall, moving as quietly as she could in the direction Bob had gone. She flinched, biting back a surprised cry, when she felt a cold hand take hers. 
"This way," Bob whispered, tugging her forward in the dark. Her coat slid from where she had draped it over her arm but she didn't stop to pick it up. A flashlight's beam began sweeping toward them. 
"Daaaaaaana..." her name echoed in the cavern. "Did you miss me, sweetheart?" Bob pulled her into a small alcove just before the light reached them. They both stood pressed against the wall as the light shifted back and forth, relentlessly searching. 
Scully felt certain her breath was whistling loudly in the stillness around her. He had to hear her, she tried to take deep slow breaths, straining to hear his footsteps in the dark. Bob let go of her hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered near her ear. 
Scully reached out to touch Bob, to reassure him, but her hand met with only rock. Startled, she slid closer to where Bob had been standing but found no one there. Had Bob crawled away? She crouched down, her hands finding cold damp rock but no sign of Bob. The light grew brighter in her peripheral vision. 
"Come on, Dana. I'm warning you, if you jump out at me I'll be really pissed. Why make this harder than it has to be?" 
He was nearly there. Scully froze, trying to make herself as small as possible. If he just went past her and deeper into the mine she could get out. The door must have been locked from the other side earlier when she found it. But it would have to be unlocked now. 
Her heart stuttered when the flashlight stopped a few inches away from her. 
"Why is it that you all hide in the same damn place?" Antonelli laughed. "I was hoping you, at least, would be more challenging." The light moved to shine into her eyes, blinding her. 
Scully lunged at his legs, succeeding in surprising him enough that he lost his balance. The flashlight clattered to the floor, casting large shadows against the rock wall. She scrambled away from Antonelli and began to run towards the door, her footing uncertain in the dark. 
Antonelli recovered fast, chasing after her. He tackled her, bringing them both down hard onto the floor of the mine. The wind knocked out of her, Scully tried to gulp in air, panicking when the weight of his body restricted her movements. She struggled, finding one of the rail tracks that ran through the mine and used it as leverage to pull herself forward. Antonelli grappled for her in the dark, seizing a handful of her shirt and yanking her backwards. 
Scully kicked out, catching Antonelli in the knee. He fell forward, sending them both back to the ground. Scully rolled away, breaking Antonelli's grip on her shirt. She rose again, scrabbling towards the door. Cursing, Antonelli chased after her, catching her arm and pulling back hard, causing her to stumble sideways. 
Light flashed in pounding waves through Scully's head as she slammed into the rock wall. Dazed, she continued forward, still trying to free her arm from Antonelli's grip. He roughly pulled her right arm behind her back, twisting it painfully. 
"You can't leave now, Dana. We have unfinished business, you and I. If you get out of here alive it sort of ruins the whole effect for Mulder." Antonelli pushed her forward, back toward where the flashlight lay. "I liked you, Dana. If it hadn't been for Rachel, I might have left you alone and gone after Mulder personally." 
"Why Rachel?" Scully gasped. She could taste blood in her mouth from where she had met up with the wall. 
"I've been asking myself the same damn question. Why Rachel?" Antonelli bent down to retrieve the flashlight, pulling Scully along with him and she whimpered as her arm twisted higher against her back. 
"Did she find out about you?" 
"You think I killed Rachel?" Antonelli let out a small anguished laugh. "It wasn't me, it was your fucking partner." 
"Mulder?" Scully shook her head. "It wasn't Mulder." 
Antonelli walked deeper into the mine, pushing Scully ahead of him. "Of course it was Mulder. He figured it out - finally. But instead of confronting me he decided to play. Queen's gambit, Dana. Do you know what that is? He captured my queen hoping that I'd confess but he was wrong. It's check mate now." 
"No," Scully tried to pull away but Antonelli didn't loosen his grip. "You're wrong." 
"We'll see." Antonelli turned the same corner she had made her way around just before Bob found her. Scully fervently hoped that Bob was on his way to get help. "Do you know what happened to me? Do you?" Antonelli shook her, sending spikes of pain down her arm. 
"No," Scully's shoulder was beginning to go numb as the nerve was pinched tighter. Her stomach growled and she could feel the shakiness starting in her legs as the initial adrenaline rush left her body. 
"You think I didn't know from the beginning who it was killing those girls? I knew it was Randy. I goddamned knew it. But I let it go, let it build. You know why?" 
Keep him talking, Scully told herself. Get him off guard. "Why?" 
"I needed a big case. That's how careers are built. If the body count went high enough the case would go national. I figured I'd let Randy go until we had a decent body count and then I'd be the fucking hero. But guess what happened instead?" Antonelli let go of her arm, grabbing her neck and pushing her up against the wall. Scully tried to take a breath but found that she couldn't, his hand was pressing down on her windpipe. She clawed at his wrist, trying to free herself. 
"Your fucking partner comes out of nowhere and wham, bam, thank you ma'am - he's a goddamned hero. He goes back to DC with all the accolades, gets his own department, a pretty partner and I get shit! I get worse than shit! I get treated like a goddamned imbecile for not spotting Randy sooner! Can you believe it? But it's not like I can tell them I knew the whole time. Fuck!" 
Antonelli tightened his grip. Scully could feel her trachea begin to crush. She gasped desperately for air, her eyes swimming with tears. Bright arcs of light flickered through her vision and she realized she was losing consciousness. She tried to kick, tried to push away from the wall but Antonelli didn't relent, leaning his weight against her. 
"It wasn't him." A young voice called out. 
A beam of light bounced across the wall, surprising Antonelli into relaxing his hold as he half-turned to find the source. He went still for a long moment when he caught sight of Bob and then he let go of Scully. She slid to the floor, nauseated and dizzy, her limbs shaking uncontrollably. 
"Bob, run!" Scully wheezed, her throat on fire. 
"Who the fuck are you?" Antonelli took a menacing step forward. 
"Leave her alone." 
"Go!" Scully's voice was barely above a whisper. "Get out of here!" 
Antonelli took a menacing step forward, "You picked the wrong place to play, kid." 
Bob gave him a curious look. "You picked this place." 
"Leave," Scully gasped. "Go get help." 
Bob glanced at her, but stood his ground as Antonelli slowly walked towards him. 
"How did you get in here?" 
Bob shrugged. "I forget." 
"Don't mess with me, kid. I asked you a question." 
Bob broke into laughter. "You don't remember me, do you?" 
Antonelli paused in his advance, shifting his weight indecisively. 
"I remember you." Bob stopped laughing abruptly, his face hardening. "I've never forgotten you." 
Scully blinked. With Antonelli's light shining directly on Bob's face he looked a lot like the boy in the picture with.... No. That wasn't possible. Bob must be that boy's son. 
Antonelli took another hesitant step, stopping about six or seven feet from Bob. "I know you," his words were thick. 
"You can't keep hurting people, Jessie. It's wrong." 
"Bob?" Antonelli's voice was a hoarse whisper. "Oh my god. Bob." 
Bob smiled. "You should never have left me here. Did you think I wouldn't find a way out? Randy knew I was out. Knew you needed to be punished. You should never have let Randy hurt those girls. They blame you." 
Antonelli checked behind Bob with his flashlight, looking to see if there was someone else with him. "Who are you really? Is Mulder behind this?" 
Bob shook his head. "You're the only one to blame. I should have stopped you sooner." 
Bob took a step forward and Antonelli stumbled backwards. Scully pushed herself up so that she was sitting against the wall, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of them as Antonelli retreated towards her. 
"I used to be afraid of you," Bob took another step. "But I'm not anymore. I thought you might stop when you lost Rachel. When you saw what it felt like but you just don't get it." 
Antonelli shook his head vigorously. "You expect me to believe that you," he shone his light up and down Bob's small frame, "were responsible for Rachel? You little shit...." Antonelli grabbed Scully's arm, pulling her up and dragging her with him as he walked backwards, his light wobbling a little as he kept it fixed on Bob. 
"You're scared now. You should be," Bob was smiling slightly as he followed them. 
"You, you don't scare me." Antonelli sputtered, his voice unnaturally high. 
"I tried to warn Rachel. I called to her, the same way I called to Dana," Bob gave Scully a nod. "But when she wouldn't listen to my warnings, I brought her into the mine and showed her what you did." 
"You killed Rachel." Antonelli stumbled as they turned a corner, his fingers gripping Scully's arm so tightly her arm began to go numb. 
"You killed her. You and your secrets. You should never have left me here. But it's your turn now." Bob came around the corner after them, his face twisting malevolently. "You should never have left me here!" 
***** 
End 13/15 
 Part 14 
  
  
Queen's Gambit 14/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
***** 
As Mulder stepped into the mine a chill draft blew past him, sending a shiver down his spine. The door creaked on its hinges behind them as Mulder and Lewis began advancing in the darkness, each of them straining their eyes and ears for a clue. Lewis stumbled, then bent down to pick up a coat. 
"Hey," he held it up for Mulder to shine the light on. "Is this Dana's?" 
Mulder reached out and took the coat from Lewis, giving a grim nod. "I think so." 
"Should we call for backup?" No sooner had the words left Lewis' mouth than they heard a distant shriek. Dropping the coat, Mulder took off in the direction of the scream with Lewis fast behind him. 
They stopped abruptly when they came to a fork in the mine. Breathing harshly, Mulder illuminated first one passage, then the other. Lewis gave him a helpless shrug. 
"It's over!" a young voice shouted from their left. "It's your turn!" The two of them rushed in that direction. 
There was a bellow of anger. Another scream, higher pitched this time. At the far end of the corridor a light bounced erratically off the walls and ceiling. Mulder ran faster as he realized it was Antonelli who was howling and cursing. Hope surged through Mulder when he recognized Scully's voice, albeit strained, "Bob, no!" 
There was a rising screech. The light disappeared abruptly with a scream that sent fear pounding through Mulder as it faded. Mulder tightened his grip on his weapon, skidding around the corner. 
"Scully?" 
He shone the light around. Scattered clothing. An open shaft. And then, in a corner, Scully lying motionless on the ground. 
"Scully?" He ran over to her, kneeling down and shaking her shoulder. She shivered, pushing herself up weakly. Mulder touched her cheek gently and she flinched. There was a thin trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth and he wiped it away with his thumb. 
"Are you okay?" 
Scully gave a mute nod. 
"Antonelli?" 
"He fell," Scully took a shuddering breath. "And Bob, oh god, he fell too." 
"Bob?" Mulder stood, shining the flashlight down the shaft. 
Lewis peered into the dark maw with him, letting out a low whistle. "I don't think we're going to find them alive. How deep does this one go?" 
Mulder shook his head, turning back to Scully, who was struggling to her feet. "Here," he reached to help her but she waved him off, wobbling just a little. 
"I'm okay. I just want to go home." 
***** 
Friday, October 16 
A.D. Kersh's Office 
4:23 p.m. 
"Perhaps I should have noted that I wished to see you return unscathed as well, Agent Scully?" Kersh gave a disapproving frown as he took in her bruised appearance. 
"Yes sir," Scully looked him straight in the eye. Mulder's eyes flickered over to Scully before returning to Kersh. 
"Suppose you sum it up for me, Agent Mulder." Kersh glanced at his watch. "Make it fast." 
"Among the personal effects sent to Adelaide Harrington after Collins' execution was a journal. In the summer of 1972 Antonelli set off a dynamite charge in the mine that killed their friend Robert Elliott. Fearing repercussions if it was discovered they had been playing with explosives, Collins was coerced by Antonelli into never revealing that they were responsible." 
Mulder glanced over at Scully again before continuing. "As they grew older the secret began to eat away at both of them in different ways. After he was convicted of murder, Collins began to look for ways to make Antonelli pay. He blamed Antonelli for the way his life had turned out." 
Kersh took off his glasses and began cleaning them slowly. "You expect me to believe that Collins had his revenge from beyond the grave after all?" he spoke without looking up. 
Scully cleared her throat. "No sir. We believe that Collins persuaded Antonelli that killing those women would be the ultimate mind game, hoping that Antonelli would be caught and punished." 
Kersh put his glasses back on. "And so an officer with an excellent record decided to just start killing people because a childhood friend wanted to play a sick joke?" 
"Not so excellent a record," Mulder said. "After being passed over for a promotion in 1991 Antonelli believed that he was looked on with suspicion for not suspecting Collins sooner in 1989. The truth was that he became volatile after Collins went to prison. Acting out on his fear and guilt he had several altercations with Huitt and his fellow officers. He also had run-ins with both Penny Wyman and the District Attorney over other cases. When Collins approached him he saw it as a way to wreak his own vengeance." 
"And his fiancé?" Kersh asked. "Agent Scully, did he also take her into the mine?" 
"I believe she wandered in there on her own, sir." 
Kersh looked at the report on his desk, his eyebrows raising. "In her pajamas? After a winter storm that left several inches of snow?" 
Mulder gave a resigned sigh, causing Kersh to glance at him briefly. Scully's lips thinned as she wondered just whose version of events Kersh was willing to believe. "Yes sir." 
"Agent Mulder, I assume you have a differing opinion?" 
"Rachel was lured into the mine by Bob Elliott..." Mulder began. 
"The friend who died in the mine?" Kersh sat back, unimpressed. 
"Yes," Mulder gave a decisive nod. 
"He wasn't killed?" 
"He was." 
Kersh leaned forward, turning his attention to Scully. "Agent Scully?" 
Scully took a deep breath as she considered her words. "There was a boy in the mine. He confronted Antonelli," she paused and Kersh raised a questioning eyebrow. "He... he did bear a resemblance to the boy in the photograph. But I was disoriented at the time." Mulder stood up straighter, opening his mouth to speak. Kersh held up a hand to forestall him. 
"What happened to the boy?" 
Scully's gaze flickered over the open report in front of Kersh. It was all in there. Surely he had read the report, why then was he making her reiterate it? Mulder gave a soft sigh of impatience. 
"Antonelli and the boy..." 
"Bob," Mulder murmured. 
"Bob," she conceded. "Bob followed us into the mine, making threats before apparently turning back. Antonelli was very agitated. He was making accusations against Agent Mulder, Sheriff Huitt and even Randall Collins. He took me to the same location where he had killed Karen Huitt and the other women. Bob returned and the two of them struggled, coming very close to the edge of a shaft. " 
"I'm getting the impression that this child put up more of a fight than you did." Kersh said blandly. 
Scully stood up straighter. " As I stated earlier, I was very dizzy and disoriented. But he did seem to have an advantage over Antonelli." 
"How so?" 
"Antonelli also appeared to be frightened of Bob, he would swing at him, but he was still keeping his distance. At least that's the way it looked, but you should note that it was dark and I was incapacitated. Bob had dropped his flashlight and the only light to go by was from the one Antonelli was waving around." 
"Go on," Kersh gave a nod. 
"When they reached the edge of the shaft it appeared that Bob pushed Antonelli, who then pulled Bob with him. Shortly after that Agent Mulder and Lewis Scully arrived." 
Kersh steepled his hands. "Neither body has been recovered?" 
"No sir. That shaft bottoms out at 2900 feet, but with over 800 feet of water it's considered far too cold and cramped to risk sending in divers. Hopefully they will be caught by the same current that brought Rachel's body to the surface." 
Kersh was silent, staring at the wall behind them thoughtfully. After a few seconds he gave them a curt nod and a dismissive wave. "That will be all, Agents." He shut the file on his desk. "Have a good day." 
They both left the office. Once they were in the hall Mulder let out an exasperated sigh. "I was incapacitated?" 
Scully's chin snapped up, "What are you implying?" 
Mulder shrugged. "Nothing." 
Scully turned away, ignoring Mulder's dissatisfied look. 
***** 
Friday, October 16 
Mulder's Apartment 
7:48 p.m. 
Mulder sat on his couch, eyes closed, debating the merits of accepting the Lone Gunmen's invitation to join them for an evening of hacking into the White House home page to plant Easter eggs. He turned his head, eyes still closed, when he heard the soft shuffle of familiar footsteps in front of his door. 
After a long pause there was a loud knock. Mulder opened the door to reveal Scully standing in his hall with her hands behind her back and a solemn expression on her face. "I brought you a belated birthday gift." 
"Why Agent Scully," Mulder leaned out to look over her shoulder, causing her to take half a step back. "What did you bring me?" 
"May I come in?" 
"Certainly." Mulder stepped aside, allowing her entrance. He shut the door, turning to find Scully holding a box out to him. Mulder took it, giving it a shake and hearing a rattle inside. "Hmmm." He shook it again. "Whatever it is, it's not what I was expecting." 
Scully flushed but didn't look away. "Just open it already." 
Mulder tore off the wrapping paper, revealing a shoebox. He lifted the lid and his eyes went wide with wonder. He gave Scully a small smile as he pulled out a rusted flashlight. "Bob's flashlight," he said softly. 
Scully looked at the flashlight for moment before she met his gaze. "It's rusted solid, Mulder. The batteries in it have been dead for years. But... I thought that you might appreciate it." 
"I'm not Kersh, don't hedge with me. For my birthday, Scully, be honest. Bob was the boy in the picture, you saw him. This flashlight worked perfectly." 
Scully looked down, giving her head a slight shake. "After the dreams I kept having, and Adelaide's stories, it's entirely possible that it was all just a hallucination of some kind." 
"What about Antonelli? Was he hallucinating too? What about me? What about Lewis? We could hear all three of you in the mine." 
Scully shrugged, lifting her hands helplessly. 
"Hey," Mulder sat down on his couch, patting the cushion next to him. "I'm not asking you to change your beliefs, Scully. I just want to hear what happened. Regardless of how it sounds." 
Scully wavered for a moment and then sat down, turning to face Mulder. "I don't really know what happened, Mulder. Like I said, it was dark and I was disoriented. If you ask me whether the boy in the mine could be the same boy in that photograph I would have to admit that the resemblance is quite striking." 
Mulder said nothing, turning the flashlight over in his hands while he waited for her to continue. 
"He, Bob, he said something that struck me as odd. I don't know how he could have 'called' Rachel into the mine but he as much as admitted to me that he had seen Karen and the other women in there. When I asked him to help me find a way out and he told me that the door I had found earlier wouldn't open. He said that he told 'the others' that but they didn't believe him. He also implied that hiding from Antonelli in the mine was a game to him." 
Mulder tilted his head, encouraging her to continue. Scully shifted on the couch, facing forward as she voiced aloud a story she still didn't quite believe. 
"When Antonelli came into the mine, Bob pulled me into an alcove, trying to hide us both. Antonelli knew that I'd be there, it was so strange. And Bob just...," Scully paused, shaking her head. "It was like he just disappeared." 
Scully leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she toyed with her keys on the surface of his coffee table. "He crawled away, Mulder. Maybe he was going to get help but came back when he saw Antonelli choking me." 
"Then how do you account for Antonelli's reaction to him?" 
Scully said nothing, her gaze fixed on the table in front of her. 
"Was Bob the boy in your dreams?" Mulder set the flashlight down on the coffee table. 
Scully sat back, crossing her arms protectively. "I told you before, I never actually saw the boy in those dreams, I just sensed him. Almost like I was him." 
"I think he was, Scully. I think you had a link with him somehow. I think all of Antonelli's victims did, that somehow Bob tried to warn them or tried to help them. I think Bob played out that game of hiding from Antonelli each time, until he finally got the courage to confront him." 
"Mulder, that isn't possible." 
"There are more things in heaven and earth..." 
"Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Scully finished for him. "I can't imagine that there are many possibilities out there that you haven't dreamed of Mulder." 
Mulder shrugged. "I'm sure there are quite a few I haven't entertained yet. I'd go through them faster if you didn't constantly demand empirical evidence." 
Scully was silent, a distant look on her face. 
"Hey," Mulder nudged her knee with his. "I'm not saying that having proof is a bad thing. I've told you before that I need you to keep me honest." 
Scully frowned, smoothing her fingers across her knees. 
"You nervous, Scully?" 
She gave him a shake of her head. "No, of course not. Why would I be nervous?" 
Mulder took her hand, squeezing her fingers. "I was wondering the same thing. After all, you only dropped by to give me a belated birthday present, right?" 
"Mulder," Scully licked the corner of her mouth as she shifted to face him. 
"I love it when you do that," Mulder's voice had dropped in register. Anticipation fluttered through Scully's stomach. She looked up to see his dark eyes watching her lips. Without meaning to she gave her lips another nervous lick. Mulder's lips parted and lethargy washed over Scully, dissolving her intention of leaving. 
Mulder leaned closer until they were nearly touching. Scully's eyes closed, her upper body swaying to close the distance between them. His lips brushed across hers, sending a wave of heat to melt the tension in her shoulders. 
"That's one," he whispered. His fingers traced the bruises left by Antonelli. Then he bent to kiss the hollow of her throat. "Two," he said softly. "Or do I still get unlimited kisses for my birthday?" 
Scully's breath caught in her lungs as her heart lurched in her chest. She stood abruptly, her eyes apologetic. "I don't think I'm ready for this." 
Mulder stood up too. "You're leaving?" 
She reached out, touching his wrist briefly in apology. "I still have some errands to run. I'll see you on Monday. Have a good weekend, Mulder." 
Mulder watched as she walked to the door. "You'll be back!" he called out. She left, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. Mulder sat down, propping his feet up on the coffee table, and smiled to himself. "She'll be back." 
He listened to the soft hiss from his radiator. There was a muted thud above him as his neighbor shut a door. The fish tank burbled in the corner. He waited, his ears straining for the sound he was certain would be coming. His smile widened at the unmistakable rattle of his front door. 
***** 
End 14/15 
Part 15 
Queen's Gambit 15/15 
See part 1 for disclaimer, etc. 
According to Susanne (who acts as my own personal Hayes Commission) this section gets the stronger NC-17 rating.  If you're underage I'll spoil it for you.  Scully comes back.  They talk and maybe they even grope a little.  At least, something happens to change the rating.  You've been warned. 
***** 
Friday, October 16 
Mulder's Apartment 
8:03 p.m. 
"Mulder," Scully left the door open behind her.  "If you knew I left my keys behind, why didn't you just say so?" 
Mulder shrugged.  "This way seemed a little more satisfying." 
Scully flashed him a look as she lifted her keys from where she had left them on the coffee table. 
"Are we ever going to talk about this?" Mulder asked softly after she turned to leave again. 
Scully froze.  There was no point in asking what he meant. 
"It doesn't have to be tonight.  But I would like to have that discussion, whenever you're ready." 
She still didn't move to leave.  Mulder watched her shoulders tense as she stood up straighter.  The night in Morgantown flashed through his memory, the way he had stopped her at the door.  Tonight, if she stayed, it would have to be her choice, not his. 
"What changed, Scully?  Did nearly getting killed convince you that you'd be better off alone?" 
Scully shook her head.  "It's not that, Mulder." 
"Tell me." 
Scully took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as her mind raced.  "Nothing has changed, Mulder."   She looked at his open door, torn between staying and leaving.  Her eyes closed, wishing they were past this moment, that time would speed up and they had already finished this conversation.  Couldn't he see that it was better to leave things as they were?  They couldn't allow things to change, it could only complicate their quest. 
"Then you'd better go," Mulder's voice shook ever so slightly on the last word.  Sorrow shot through her, this was how they had been after Morgantown.  Did she really want them to become courteous strangers again?  Scully realized that they had already changed.  Tonight was just another change, one way or the other.  She reached out and pushed the door shut, her heart hammering painfully in her chest. 
Scully turned around, her eyes seeking out Mulder's, wanting reassurance that this was the right direction.  His eyes were calm, hopeful even, so she gave voice to her fear.  "Becoming lovers won't fix anything." 
Lovers.  Mulder's head was pounding, completely out of synch with the slow and uneven beat of his heart.  "What is it that you think needs fixing, Scully?" 
"Mulder, you've accused me before of taking a disagreement with you personally.  If we take this to the next level, how are we going to differentiate between work and...." 
Mulder stood up, ready to disagree, but Scully continued speaking. 
"Let me finish.  You said in Park City that you felt my leaving the X-Files was the same thing as leaving you." 
"I told you that your leaving the X-Files was the same as leaving me, that's true.  You then explained the subtleties of that action so I won't make that mistake again.  Your coming here tonight obviously isn't part of your job description." 
"Mulder...." 
"We already know that we can work together after the fact.  No matter how much we pretend otherwise, that line has been erased.  We can't go back to how things were before Morgantown, Scully.  We can go back to how they were afterwards.  But I can't ignore what Morgantown meant to me." 
Scully took a quick breath and her hand trembled, rattling the keys she was clutching.  Mulder walked slowly towards her as he spoke, his voice dropping.  "I would never do anything to jeopardize our working relationship, Scully.  What we have is more than just a working relationship.  We have the foundation that people spend a lifetime building." 
"I don't want to go back," Scully admitted in a whisper.  "I'm just not sure how to go forward." 
"It's easy," Mulder touched her fingers and she released her keys into his hand.  "You just stay.  The rest we make up as we go along." 
"Just stay," Scully repeated, unsure if she was agreeing or giving herself a pep talk. 
"Just stay," Mulder confirmed.  Scully closed her eyes as a flush of arousal swept through her abdomen and then spread across her cheeks.  Mulder laid one cool palm against her face and she closed her eyes. 
"And we'll talk?"  Scully murmured. 
"Yes," Mulder dropped his hand from her cheek.  Scully looked up at him.  His eyes were dark - dilated from the poor lighting, she wondered.  Or something else?  A pleasant flutter started in her stomach at the thought of where talking might lead.  She stepped around him, returning to sit in the middle of the couch.  Mulder followed, seating himself in the corner to give her space. 
"Mulder, about what happened in Morgantown," she paused, bowing her head as she thought.  "It was unexpected.  I believe that if we had talked about it first, it would never have happened." 
"Are you sorry that it did?" 
Scully started to ask him if he regretted it, but then stopped.  She already knew the answer to that question. "We can't go back and change it, Mulder.  It happened.  And now that it has, no, I'm not sorry." 
Mulder gave a slight nod.  "But you're not entirely convinced that it's a mistake worth repeating?" 
"I think 'mistake' is a little harsh.  I'm questioning where we go from here, how much we want to complicate matters." 
"Complicate what, exactly?" 
"Mulder, my commitment to the X-Files is a separate entity from my feelings for you.  Last summer when they took everything away from us, I quit so I could stay in D.C.  Don't you remember all those years ago when they shut us down?  We still kept working, just covertly.  I wanted to stay here and keep working." 
"With me?" 
"I can't imagine working with anyone else on the X-Files.  But if it came down to a question of having to choose between you or the X-Files..." Scully stopped speaking, a faint anxious line appearing between her eyebrows. 
"Are you afraid that if they shut us down again you'd be staying for different reasons?" Mulder prompted. 
"No, that's exactly what I'm *not* saying.  That's what becomes complicated.  I would stay because the X-Files are important to me, not because we're romantically involved.  If you had to choose between me or the X-Files, which would you pick?" 
Mulder gaped at her, unwilling to entertain ever having to make that choice. 
"You'd choose the X-Files," Scully answered for him after a short pause.  "I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't." 
Mulder shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle.  "I've always known you were dedicated, Scully.  But it's touching to know that even if you can't believe in the X-Files,  you'd toss me aside for them."  Seeing her frown he touched her wrist and added, "It's one of your better qualities." 
"I'd toss you aside because you're a real pain in the ass."  Scully smiled to show him she was only half-kidding. 
"I know, it's one of my better qualities." 
"That's not entirely true."  Scully sat back on the couch, her smile turning into a mischievous lilt at the corners of her mouth. 
Mulder inched closer until his hand rested near her knee.  "You wanna tell me about my better qualities?" 
"That might require some thought," Scully cautioned. 
"I'm not going anywhere."  Mulder poked her knee with one finger.  "Take your time." 
"You have an amazing capacity for belief," Scully glanced at the flashlight lying on his coffee table.  "I often wonder what, besides organized religion, you don't believe in." 
Mulder grimaced.  "I was hoping you'd tell me how brilliant I am.  How I've broadened your horizons, enriched your life, opened your mind.  Or, at the very least, you could say I was 'devastatingly handsome'." 
Scully cocked an eyebrow.  "Devastatingly handsome?" she repeated skeptically.  "Someone certainly has a high opinion of himself.  Mulder, if you were devastatingly handsome I would never have been able to work with you." 
"Too much of a distraction?" he teased. 
"Too much of an ego.  You have an ego, don't get me wrong.  In fact, sometimes you are downright frustrating..." 
"Frustrating?" Mulder interrupted.  "You think I'm frustrating? You can be just as frustrating."  His hand cupped her knee, giving it a playful shake. 
For a split-second Scully felt her temper rise - *she* was frustrating?  Then she recognized the tease in his touch and his eyes for what it was.  "In what way do I frustrate you?" she asked quietly. 
Mulder blinked.  He had realized at the same moment she did that they were moving into potentially volatile territory.  He felt a pang of regret at telling her she was frustrating.  It was the truth, certainly, but he feared it had been the wrong thing to say. 
"You're a constant source of frustration,  Scully."  Mulder leaned closer to her, near enough that she could feel the puff of air from his words.  The weight of his hand on her knee had her wishing he would touch her or do something besides just leave it resting there. 
"Give me an example," she challenged him. 
"Just one?" Mulder squeezed her knee.  "Because I could probably go on all night." 
"Limit yourself to one within the last few months." 
"Okay then," Mulder stroked his thumb lightly over the inside of her knee, watching with delight as her eyes darkened.  "Reneging on a promise." 
"What promise?"   With Mulder so close the memories of Morgantown that she had so assiduously suppressed were nearly overwhelming.   She could recall with perfect clarity the sensation of Mulder shuddering towards climax above and inside her. 
"As much as I love the flashlight, it's not what I had my heart set on."  Their eyes met, neither of them looking away until Mulder leaned in to brush his lips softly over hers.  Scully closed her eyes then, taking a slow deep breath that did little to steady her. 
 
"What?" she whispered.  "What did you have your heart set on?" 
"Finishing what we started." He kissed her again, his lips moving slowly against hers in gentle exploration until she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss.  Mulder reluctantly pulled away, his thumb briefly caressing her bottom lip.  "I know it wasn't technically a promise," he said.  "But it sure was frustrating."   He took his hand from her knee, its loss increased the ache building inside her. 
"There are other ways to frustrate you," Scully decided it was time to tease him back a little.  She reached out and let her hand rest just above his knee. 
Mulder glanced down, giving a contemplative look to her hand on his leg   "This could very well alter my views on religion.". 
"Try very hard not to annoy me," Scully cautioned. 
"Scully," Mulder stroked his hand up her leg until it came to rest low on her hip.  "Are you saying I annoy *and* frustrate you?" 
"Shut up, Mulder."  This time he didn't move away when she deepened their kiss.  Instead he pulled her closer, tightening his arms around her until her breasts were pressed against his chest.  He remembered all too well how they fit in his hands, how sensitive her nipples had been, and the sounds she had made when he touched her. 
Scully broke the kiss this time, leaning her head back to gulp in air.  Mulder's eyes were drawn to watching the simple act of her breathing.  The top button on her shirt was undone, exposing a glimpse of skin and he couldn't resist giving it a kiss.  He kept his lips there, closing his eyes to savor the smell and feel of Scully.  His tongue darted out and he gave a soft moan at the taste of her skin, sending a thrill through them both. 
This was nothing like she remembered, Scully realized.  How could she have forgotten the urgent heat of his mouth?  Her hand smoothed over the back of his head, pulling him closer, but Mulder resisted.  They both watched as Mulder counted off the buttons on her shirt, his finger tapping each one to where they ended just below her navel. 
"It was a promise, Mulder," Scully whispered.  He looked up from the hem of her shirt and she gave him a shy smile.  "Aren't you going to unwrap your present?" 
"Is there any kind of exchange policy I should be aware of first?" Mulder slipped the bottom button free. 
"No returns allowed," Scully told him.  "You open it, you keep it." 
"Fair enough."  A second and then a third button were loosened.  Despite the rapid beat of her heart Scully felt herself sinking into lassitude as Mulder finished unbuttoning her shirt and opened it to his view.   He gave her bra a delighted smile.  "Why Agent Scully, however do you run in this?"  He traced the flimsy strap on her left shoulder. 
Scully smiled back at him.  He knew damn well this wasn't an everyday bra, and certainly guessed why she would have chosen to wear it tonight.  Mulder's hand cradled her breast, his thumb sliding over the tightly drawn nipple outlined beneath the opaque black fabric. 
"Happy birthday to me," Mulder murmured, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.  "It's just what I always wanted." 
"Is it?"  Scully nipped at his chin, enjoying the sensation of stubble rasping against her lips. 
"God, yes.  Let's see how it fits."  Mulder pulled her onto his lap but this time Scully was the one who resisted.  She stood up, shrugging to get rid of her blazer and shirt.  Mulder caught on quickly, standing up to shed his t-shirt.  They both hurriedly removed pants and shoes and socks.  Mulder was faster, stripping to his boxers before she could finish kicking away her pantyhose.   As Scully pulled her ankle free Mulder looked down, catching sight of Bob's flashlight on the coffee table. 
It was a start, he told himself.  It was a damn good start.   Not only was she willing to take him on as more than a working partner, as evidenced by the pile of clothing on his floor, but she was also open to the *possibility* of extreme possibilities.  With Scully, that was definitely a start. 
When Scully stood back up she found Mulder watching her with a wry grin. 
"What?" she asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious. 
Mulder shook his head, pulling her into a hug.  She put her arms around him, her cheek resting against his bare skin as his hands slowly stroked up and down her back.  It should have been sexual, Scully thought, standing there in their underwear with Mulder's erection prodding her belly.  But somehow, it wasn't. 
"Scully," he murmured into her hair.  "I just want you to know now, before anything else happens, that you've already given me the best birthday present.  The rest is just frosting."   He cradled her head in his hands, smiling gently down at her. 
Scully looked up at him, wishing that she could see his eyes better.  "Mulder, are you saying that sex with me is like frosting?" 
"Not as sticky, but certainly as sweet and addictive."  Mulder kissed her forehead.  "Giving me the flashlight was enough." 
"Mulder, the flashlight was the frosting." 
Mulder kissed her, his mind swimming with the realization that she was right.  In Morgantown he had made love to her out of desperation, seeking for a connection between them.  He had wanted a way to make her believe in him without realizing that she always had.  She might not believe in his theories, but she had always believed in him. 
He kissed her deeply, overwhelmed with emotion.  Without words he used his mouth and tongue to tell her how much he loved her and needed her.  Scully kissed him back with the same urgency, surprised herself by how fiercely she needed him.  It wasn't the sex, it was Mulder himself she desired.  She had always craved a challenge and he was constantly providing one.  It was why she hadn't stopped him in Morgantown and why she had come back tonight.  She was wrong - the sex was the frosting.  Everything else between them, whether work or friendship, was what really counted.  She wanted to tell him that but telling him would mean she'd have to stop kissing him and there was no way in hell she could do that. 
Minutes later when Mulder dropped to his knees before her, she tried to remember what it was she was going to tell him.  Something important, if only he wasn't kissing her stomach while his hands rose up her back to unhook her bra.  He pulled her down until she was sitting on the couch and slid her bra off.  Leaning in he took one nipple into his mouth, elongating it with his tongue as Scully shuddered against him. 
"I was wrong," she gasped. 
"Mmmm."  He supported her breast with one hand so that he could tap his tongue lightly against the sensitive nub. 
"This is the frosting."  She let out a small groan as he gave the second breast the same treatment.  Her fingers tightened in his hair. 
As his mouth flexed on her breast Mulder tried to follow her logic but she was employing his own circular approach.  He couldn't make sense of it when all the blood in his body was heading in the wrong direction for an argument with Scully. 
Mulder lifted her instead, sliding her back along the couch so that he could lie down with her.  She gave a small gasp as her bare back met up with cool leather and arched up against him.  Mulder bit her shoulder softly, groaning his pleasure at the way she had shifted against his cock.  Bracing himself on one arm, he used the other hand to tug at her panties. 
Take it slow, he told himself.  Morgantown had happened so fast, this time he was going to make it last for her.  His head lowered to tease one nipple while he divested her of that one last bit of clothing. 
Scully moved her legs so Mulder could settle more solidly against her.  The cotton of his boxers did little to assuage the flood of moisture he had caused.  He shifted slowly, letting the fabric and the heated ridge of his erection stroke over the cleft between her legs until she felt nearly frantic to get him naked.  His mouth continued to tug on her breast, sending spikes of pleasure down her spine to meet up with the thrills generated by the caresses his hand was making across the back of her thigh. 
Her hands pulled at the waistband of his boxers but Mulder didn't rise up enough to be able to slide them off.  Scully tugged again and Mulder stopped moving, his erection pressing directly against her clit.   She shifted, desperate for the release that was so close.  She groaned his name, her hands clutching at his lower back.  Mulder's tongue circled her nipple one last time before he raised his head.   "Yeah?" his voice was a ragged whisper. 
"Please," her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips parted as she gasped for breath.  Mulder was sure he had never seen anything as intoxicating.  "Mulder, you're frustrating me." 
"You said it was one of my better qualities."  He bent to take her other nipple into his mouth but she shook her head vigorously. 
"No.  Show me another."  Her hands pulled at his boxers again.  "I know you have diverse talents, Mulder.  You've competently demonstrated frustrating.  Let's move on." 
"Whose birthday is this?"  But he shifted anyway and the two of them worked his boxers off.   The couch squeaked beneath them as he settled between her legs again.  Mulder tried to lean on one arm, using his other hand to guide himself towards her but he lost his balance, his bare damp skin sticking to the back of the couch when he fell against it. 
"You're doing that on purpose." Scully laughed, pushing on his chest.  "Sit up." 
Mulder sat up as Scully untangled her legs from around him.  She kneeled on the couch next to him, giving him another light push.  "We'll switch places," she told him, arching up so that he could lie down.  She straddled his thighs, bracing herself with one hand on the back of the couch.  She took him in her other hand, stroking softly along the length of him until he thrust into her hand.  Her fingers tightened and he hissed in gratification. 
His eyes were closed but he opened them as soon as he felt the wet heat of her begin to envelope him.  He watched, every nerve in his body screamingly aware, as she slid down his cock until he could feel the pressure of her cervix against the tip of him.  Her inner muscles quivered against him as she rose a few inches and then settled again. 
Scully looked down at him, now physically as much as part of her as he had been spiritually for years.  Their eyes met and held as she began to lift and dip, taking him in a little deeper as her body adjusted.  Mulder's hips began to thrust up slowly each time she retreated, sending a wave of heat through her.  Not only did he prolong the fullness of complete penetration when he lifted, she could swear he also was brushing against every pleasurable nerve she had. 
Groaning, she tried to lift a little higher, bracing her hands against his chest for leverage.  That slight change in position sent another, stronger wave crashing through her.  Mulder held her hips, smoothly gliding into her even further than he had before.  She shuddered, increasing her pace as she tried to catch up with the glittering promise of release she could feel closing in on her.  She closed her eyes in concentration until the rise and fall of her body against his was the only sensation in the world.  When Mulder's thumb circled her clit she cried out, trembling as her body leapt in pleasure. 
Mulder let out his own hoarse cry as Scully's inner muscles held him fast.  Her pace slowed as she fought for control.  When she found it again she quickened her movements.  Mulder felt nearly frantic, he was so close and it felt so incredibly good and he was sure that if it weren't for the way the couch was sweating beneath his ass, or maybe it was him that was sweating, but it didn't matter, and if she would only come down hard on him again, like, oh god, like that, then he was sure that he would and then she did it again and he let out a wail as a long rising pulse broke loose from deep inside him and the world went up in a flare of electric blues and yellows and the only thing that mattered was that she was here and that was the frosting on the cake and it tasted even better than he remembered. 
His last conscious thoughts were to wonder if he would be stuck to the couch forever.  But Scully was spooned in front of him, tucking the blanket from the back of the couch around them and he realized that he would be quite content to be a permanent part of the furniture if Scully could be there too.  He mumbled his thanks, patting her hip as she settled more heavily against him. 
***** 
It was the kind of darkness the eyes never grow accustomed to.  He wondered if it was the kind of darkness they never recover from either.  How long had he been here?  Trapped somewhere between death and life, clinging to wooden beams that only revealed their existence after an excruciating search.  He pressed on blindly, feeling for the beam above until it materialized.  He pulled himself up, cursing when his grip faltered, stealing precious inches from his escape.  His muscles shook and protested but he didn't stop.  Grim determination drove him. 
Determination and the vow that vengeance would yet be his.  He lifted his hand once more, straining towards salvation. 
***** 
End 15/15 
Whew!  Finished!  If you have comments, critiques or no one else to talk to, write me at sister_suze@yahoo.com 
Roll credits... 
I just want to take up a few more minutes of your time to thank all the people who stood behind me during the writing of this fic.  Actually, "thanks" doesn't even come close to what I want to say to all the wonderful people involved. 
It's a very tall order to save me from myself, but my betas all did this effortlessly.  Any mistakes you see are my own.  Thank you to all of them - Susanne, Sharon, Laney and M for all the time and effort they freely put into reading for me. 
I also want to express my deepest gratitude to everyone who took the time to send me feedback while this was a WIP on my page.  I'd still be staring at part 7 if wasn't for your encouragement. 
Park City is a real place, as are the majority of the locales in this story.  (Snaps to Barb who knew the name of the grocery store Karen disappeared from.)  The history given for Park City and the Ontario mine are real.  I was informed recently that you can no longer take a tour through the Ontario (which is a shame, since that tour gave me the idea for this story in the first place). 
Susanne - I wouldn't have finished this story, hell, wouldn't even still be writing if it weren't for you.  Time and again you poured over this story with me, never complaining even after reading the same part multiple times.  You are my cheerleader, my sounding board, my swift kick in the ass and everything I want to be when I grow up. 
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