Chapter 3

**When in Rome**

HOTEL LUNETTA, ROME CITY CENTRE
SATURDAY, MAY 30
18:04 HOURS

"I'm quite certain this was an inside job," Mulder said while looking down at the preliminary medical report.

Nicola lifted his brows, "What makes you think that?"

"It's a hunch," Scully interrupted them. Her slightly mocking tone earned her a hurt look from Mulder and deaf silence from Nicola.

"Am I wrong?" she asked, staring at Mulder, her posture confident as ever.

Nicola swallowed and looked away.

"I'd say it is an educated guess," Mulder replied. If he was irritated by her reaction, he hid it well.

Scully sighed, "You would say anything at this point."

Mulder's eyes widened a bit. This wasn't about hunches or guesses.

"Maybe you should tell us what you think," he replied crisply.

"No," she shook her head, "I'm not the one with answers. You should ask Nicola."

She looked at Nicola expectantly, but he felt like drowning. His shoulders slouched, and he could barely look at her. There was no way Mulder missed it.

But apparently, he did. "Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Nicola?" Scully asked in his direction.

Nicola faltered. It felt too awkward talking to both of them after all that happened between him and Scully the night before. He felt guilty of betraying Mulder's trust and Gino's, for that matter, too. He shouldn't have gone that far. He felt a buzz in his head.

"What?" Mulder asked, confused and highly irritated at this point.

"I'm sorry, I need some air," Nicola excused himself and headed for the door without looking at either of them.

Scully stared at him in disbelief.

"Scully?" Mulder asked when Nicola left the room.

Her jaw set, "I'm gonna check on him."

She had to. Even though Mulder exhaled loudly and nodded reluctantly, she left the hotel room and walked down the stairs.

This wasn't going well. She had to do something.

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked when she saw him pacing in front of the hotel.

He started for a second and relaxed after seeing her caring expression.

"I'm sorry ... I couldn't," he paused and exhaled.

"You couldn't ...?" she reached for his hand.

"I can't be the cause of your disagreement," his tone was weak, barely controlled.

"No," she shook her head, "you're not the cause. And it's not the first time Mulder and I exhausted each other."

"I broke his trust," he almost whispered it, as if saying it aloud would disclose how disgusted he was with himself.

"Not any more than I have," she reminded him.

"You don't understand. I promised him something and didn't keep my promise."

"What are you talking about?" Again. She was again being kept in the dark.

He stood quiet. There was no way to make this right. "I'm sorry," his eyes bore the vulnerability of a scared child.

She had no control over herself when it came to seeing him this weakly. Only an unbearable need to hug him existed, and it gripped her flesh badly.

They stood there, looking at each other as if the whole world had ceased to exist. It was terrifying and completely absorbing at the same time.

She was about to pull him closer to her when she heard tires screech nearby.

What the hell?

She looked to her left and saw the doors of a black SUV open. It all happened too fast. Mulder came rushing down on the street, yelling at both of them.

Men with firearms clad in black tore Nicola from her and pushed him into the vehicle. He shouted at them and fought back hard. Mulder tried to stop them, as did she as soon as she regained control of her surroundings, but they failed miserably. Unarmed and shocked, they just stared at each other when the SUV sped up the street.

QUESTURA DI ROMA
SATURDAY, MAY
18:22 HOURS

"What is happening, Mulder?"

She was scared and distraught. Questions were running through her mind obsessively. Why did they take Nicola? Who were they? What did they want?

"I don't know, Scully. But I'm certain it's linked to father Gino's death," he was going through the police report of Gino's murder again.

"They knew each other very well. They were friends," her voice was crushed.

"I know, but he wouldn't tell me anything more," Mulder complained.

She nodded. "He told me, although reluctantly."

He looked at her. "You talked about it?"

"Yes. Why?" she asked, surprised at his question.

He lowered his head. "I asked him to let you out of it."

"What? Why?" her tone rose. "Mulder?"

He looked at her with a defeated face. "I saw how you liked working at the hospital. I didn't want to take that away from you."

"Mulder?" That was the reason? And then it hit her. Oh, my God. The kids in the hospital ...

"This is about William, isn't it?" she asked perplexed.

He nodded with tears in his eyes.

"Oh, Mulder," she reached for his hand and squeezed it.

He closed his eyes, "He is a teenager now."

She nodded. "I miss him terribly, too. But you shouldn't have involved Nicola."

He looked at her, pain evident in his eyes, "I did it to protect you."

"I don't need protection, not like this. After all these years, after all, we've been through, and we're still arguing over the same thing," she looked back at him, her eyes clear, her face tired.

"Scully," Mulder pleaded.

"Mr. Mulder?" an Italian officer interrupted them.

He looked at him, "Yes?"

"I'm commissario Diego Poggia," he extended his hand.

"Sir," Mulder shook his hand. "This is my partner, Dana Scully."

Poggia greeted her politely and invited them into his office.

"My colleagues have informed me what happened. I know father Nicola very well. I'm taking over the case," he explained while reading the field report. His voice, strong and calm, was in evident contrast with his lanky form. Scully guessed he had to be an athlete in his younger years.

"We believe father Nicola's kidnapping is connected with father Gino's death," Mulder followed Poggia with his eyes as he moved around his office.

"Yes, yes," Poggia quickly replied.

Scully raised her brow as she looked at Mulder and then at the police commissioner.

"Sir, we may have some important information about father Nicola's kidnapping," Scully added.

"Such us?" Poggia turned to look at her.

Mulder jumped in, "We may help you with the investigation. We're-"

Scully touched his hand, "We're father Nicola's friends."

Mulder looked at her and then nodded slightly in understanding.

"How do you know him?" Poggia inquired.

"I'm an extremely religious person," Mulder replied nonchalantly. "We just clipped."

Poggia stared at him. Hints of anger and nervousness showed in his eyes, but he controlled them instantly.

Mulder smiled innocently at him.

Commissioner Poggia's lips quirked up. "I appreciate your offer, Mr. Mulder and Ms. Scully. And if you want to help, I'd ask you to go back to your hotel room and leave us to do our job."

"Do you have an idea of what actually happened?" Scully pressed.

"I do. A terrorist group kidnapped a Catholic priest. So sad the times we live in," Poggia stated.

The son of a bitch! Mulder clenched his fingers into a fist, which Poggia would have seen if Scully hadn't been covering it with her hand.

"That's a possibility, of course," Scully commented, and before Poggia could say anything more, she thanked him and ushered Mulder out of his office with her.

NAZIONALE 51, ROME CITY CENTRE
SATURDAY, MAY 30
21:54 HOURS

After Nicola's kidnapping, Mulder decided to change their hotel out of security reasons. She welcomed the change, although it couldn't help how powerless they felt.

"Dammit," Mulder cursed. "No one is giving us any information."

"We're foreigners, Mulder. What did you expect?" she asked calmly.

"Well, something! A man was murdered and another one kidnapped. And they are labeling it as terrorism!" he was shouting now.

"You need to calm down."

"He's out there, Scully. And God only knows what they are doing to him," he replied, angered.

"He's former MI5. He worked in the field for seven years," she tried to reason with him.

"He's alone, unarmed, and he's been out of the field for more than 15 years," he fired back.

"Stop it," she raised her voice, "you know we're not FBI anymore. We can't help with the investigation, give orders, or expect anything from local authorities."

"I won't sit on my ass, doing nothing, while he's out there," he warned her.

"I'm not saying you should," she assured him.

He wanted to say something back but refrained. "What do you have in mind exactly?"

She leaned on the table with both hands. "We lead our investigation."

Mulder's eyes lit up. "Okay," he said slowly.

"Tell me what you saw," she said. "You had a different view."

"You were standing real close to Nicola and holding his hand. He was looking at you when a black SUV came up the road."

She nodded, thinking what he had felt when he had seen her that close to Nicola.

"Two men jumped out of the SUV, dressed in black and masked. I rushed down immediately," his forehead creased. "What about you?"

"I noticed one man had a tattoo on his left hand and the other one a scar on his chin," she replied. "And the one with the tattoo had a funny body odor. Fruity."

"Do you think it means something?"

"It might. It could be diabetes," she explained.

"You're good, Scully."

She looked into his hopeful eyes and smiled. It felt like old times.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"He had told me something before they took him," she looked at him, hoping he would tell her the truth.

"Go on," he encouraged her.

"He told me he betrayed your trust - that he didn't keep his promise," she looked him straight in the eyes, almost afraid of the secret he kept from her.

"What?" Mulder asked, feeling utterly confused.

"Mulder, please, just tell me the truth." She couldn't live like this. Protecting her was one thing, but manipulating her was a whole another story.

"I am telling you the truth," he insisted, his body showing clear signs of impatience.

"Then what the hell is he talking about?" Her tone grew impatient, too.

"How am I supposed to know?" he asked, outraged. "I only told him to keep you out of trouble so that you wouldn't worry about every lead I was pursuing, and you could work at the hospital without distractions."

Oh, God, this was insane.

"This doesn't make any sense, Mulder!" she was shouting now, her eyes red from an impending emotional breakdown.

"Scully, I wouldn't lie to you," his eyes held a seriousness one just had to believe.

She sat down on the chair. "What then?" she asked, feeling the weight of the situation settle on her shoulders.

"Looks like father Nicola had secrets neither of us knew about," he pointed out in a calmer tone.

She absentmindedly bit her lip. Was she that wrong about him? No, she shook her head slightly, he couldn't be a traitor. Not Nicola, not after what they shared.

"Think of it, Scully," there was urgency in Mulder's voice.

She looked at him with clouded eyes, but he wouldn't let himself get confused or emotional. That was the Mulder she knew, the Mulder she fell in love with.

"A former MI5 agent comes to Rome and just happens to meet one of the most important people of the Jesuit order of that time. They become friends, they meet often, they talk of innumerable things, most of them personal. The young agent becomes a priest, and almost 20 years later, the Jesuit priest gets killed. And his friend comes rushing to Rome and gets kidnapped."

He had a point. The story was way out of the ordinary. She tried in vain to make sense of it.

"There's something you should know," she looked him in the eye.

Mulder's attention peaked. "I'm listening."

"When we were driving to Rome, Nicola mentioned an organization in connection to father Gino. A highly organized group of people within the Jesuit order," she explained.

Mulder's eyes widened. "The Holy Brotherhood of Soldiers and Pilgrims?"

"Yes," she nodded, astounded. "How do you know about it?"

"Father Gino mentioned it, too," Mulder replied.

That couldn't have been a coincidence.

"It is supposed to be a secret," Scully stressed.

"Yes, but something changed in the last few days and made father Gino extremely upset. That's why he reached out for me," Mulder explained.

"Why didn't he talk directly to Nicola? Why you?" Scully asked skeptically.

"He said he didn't want to put him in danger. I believed him."

Scully thought of it. It was a plausible reason.

"Did Nicola say anything else?" he asked.

"Yes–," she started but got interrupted by Mulder's ringtone. An unknown local number was flashing on the screen of his phone.

"Mr. Mulder?" Poggia asked.

"This is him," Mulder replied.

"I'm sorry to bother you at this hour. Commissioner Poggia speaking. We've found father Nicola's phone in Piazza San Pietro. It was probably tossed out of the vehicle. We're going through its content now," Poggia explained.

"Thanks for keeping us updated, sir," Mulder thanked him and turned his phone off.

"What is it?" Scully asked, confused.

"He said they've found his phone," Mulder smiled.

"That can't be, his phone is here. He left it at Hotel Lunetta, and I took it with me."

"Exactly," Mulder smiled. "Which means it was either planted, or Poggia is waiting to see our next move, and there is no phone."

But Scully wasn't so quick at making conclusions. "What if he had a spare phone?"

Mulder paused. "Do you really believe that?"

"No, but it would make sense he had one if he had such secrets," she reasoned with him.

Mulder nodded. She could tell he was upset with Nicola. But there was nothing they could do tonight, especially not after Poggia's call.

"But if Poggia is setting us up, let him believe we are falling for it," she suggested.

"And how are we supposed to achieve that?" he asked, amused.

"By doing nothing, just like them." There was a glimpse of fire in her eyes.

Mulder's lips turned up at the corners, "We do as the Romans do."

"Precisely," she agreed. "And now I wouldn't mind getting some sleep," she said and stood up.

"I'll be right with you," he replied.

NAZIONALE 51, ROME CITY CENTRE
SUNDAY, MAY 31
00:03 HOURS

"I'm going to take a shower," she looked over her shoulder, seeing him undress.

God, he was magnificent. It looked like age didn't touch him at all. His face was mature but smooth, his skin soft and his muscles taut.

She headed for the luxurious bathroom and left him alone.

He knew better than to follow her.

When hot water hit her tired body, she exhaled profoundly. She let her muscles relax, and her eyes close. If she only could make it all go away—the pain, doubt, and guilt.

She poured some shower gel in her palm and gently spread it over her neck, down her chest, and belly, slowly, enjoying the sweet scent of almonds and olive oil. She let her hands roam over her body in no hurry. Arms, back, hips, thighs. She was washing away the frustration and welcoming the pleasure of a few moments alone.

Images of Nicola and Mulder intertwined, dissolved, and formed again. They were both so male, both so sensitive, both so frustrating. She tried to accept her feelings for Nicola, whatever they were. But she couldn't bear the attraction she felt for him.

She opened her eyes.

No, the attraction was dangerous, and the way she saw it – it was only a response to the lack of intimacy she experienced with Mulder. She told herself that repeatedly, but it was getting harder and harder believing it.

But Mulder. Oh, God, Mulder.

He was under her skin, in her blood, down to the last cell of her body.

Her hand drifted between her thighs, and she cupped herself to ease the tension that gathered within her. Her eyes closed again.

I need you.

She opened her eyes and let the water wash away the soap. Her skin felt alive, vibrant.

Mulder was lying in bed, naked from waist up, when she exited the bathroom. His fingers were going relentlessly through pages of the police report.

"You know, they never told us who called in father Gino's murder," he said when he heard her footsteps. "It was a young Jesuit who just finished his studies in medicine."

She didn't reply, and when he turned to her, she could hear his gasp.

She was wearing only her white panties.

He straightened up, not knowing what else to do.

"I need to feel you close," she whispered desperately. Her heart and body ached for his love.

He uncovered the sheet for her and offered his hand.

A shy smile spread across her lips but died all too soon.

"Come here," he managed to say and pulled her into a warm embrace.

"I miss you," she whimpered against his chest.

"Shh, it's okay," he reassured her. "I'm here." He ran his hands over her bareback, pressing her tightly to him.

Tears fell down her cheek, and he kissed them away.

She wanted to dissolve in his arms, now and forever. His hands caressed her skin so lightly, so gently. His lips touched her forehead and lingered there.

"I'd like to stay like this for as long as possible," she whispered and searched his eyes.

He smiled, "You can."

She placed his cheek against his chest and kissed the warm skin. He was the man she loved despite all, and that night nothing else mattered.

Soon she drifted into sleep.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair and closed his eyes.

Little did they know what the next day would bring.

TO BE CONTINUED.

"I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the colour of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty."
― Pablo Neruda

"What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies."
― Aristotle

"Don't walk in front of me… I may not follow
Don't walk behind me… I may not lead
Walk beside me… just be my friend"
― Albert Camus