Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 02/17
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language, adult situations
Spoilers: Through Season Six
Keywords: M/S UST, S/Other Romance
Summary: Sequel to "Not the Doctor." Their partnership on shaky ground, Mulder
and Scully are called in to investigate the mysterious death of two teenagers in
a Hawaiian cave. While exploring the crime scene and its vicinity, they are
trapped by a cave-in. Will they be able to find their way out--without killing
each other first?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 2
Mulder was about to bite the bullet and just talk to Scully. But in the end,
fate made his decision for him.
Hearing a noise behind them, both agents turned toward the small, dark tunnel
from which the sound had emanated. There was a crunching of feet on gravel,
followed by a faint beam of light which grew brighter as the figure approached.
A moment later, their guide emerged from the passageway, a bit grimier than when
he had left, but apparently none the worse for wear.
"Sorry I took so long," Stu said, pulling off his helmet and wiping his sweaty
forehead with his shirt sleeve. "I see you two haven't managed to kill one
another while I was gone," he remarked with a twinkle in his eye. "Y'know, I
haven't had to play monkey in the middle since my brother and his wife visited
last year."
Mulder actually cracked a small, amused smile. Scully, however, shot Stu a look
that indicated any further comment on the matter would lead to his receiving
bodily harm.
Stu was either oblivious to Scully's body language, or else not worried because
he did not let the matter rest. "I tell ya, when Detective Agbayani told me two
Feds wanted me to guide them through the Lehua Caves, you two were not at all
what I expected."
"Oh?" asked Mulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Scully
crossing her arms. "How's that?" As he turned his back to her, he could
practically feel Scully's eyes shooting daggers in his direction.
"I thought when I got here I'd find two stiffs in dark suits an' ties."
"Well, field work in rough terrains such as this one does necessitate--"
"It's not just the clothes, Agent Scully," Stu interrupted. "I expected
whispered secrets, conspiratorial looks, an' if I were to ask you for
information about this here case, lines like 'That's on a need to know basis'."
"'And *you* don't need to know'," Mulder finished, a mock harshness in his tone.
"See, that's what I mean, Special Agent Man," Stu said, chuckling. "You've got a
healthy sense of humor. That's a rare trait in a government employee these
days."
"Well, I've never been the conventional sort--"
His musings were cut short by a very loud "Ahem!" Both men turned to see Scully
glaring at them, arms crossed. "Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. As fascinating as
I find this conversation, it's getting late, and I believe we still have quite a
bit ground to cover. Stu, was the path negotiable up ahead?"
"A little rough, Agent Scully, but we shouldn't have much of a problem. After
about fifty feet or so, the path forks. We'll bear to the left--that's the more
superficial tunnel."
"All right then," Scully said, picking up her flashlight. "Let's do it."
Nodding, Stu retrieved his own lamp and started off down the path. Scully
exchanged a brief perturbed look with Mulder. He held his arm out, gesturing for
her to go next. Without a word, she brushed past him and followed Stu, with
Mulder taking up the rear.
Scully glanced around at their surroundings as they walked. Shadows cast by
their flashlights leapt and danced around them, causing their distorted figures
to loom menacingly over the walls. Around them, the rock was worn smooth by
cylindrical deposits of lava that had cooled into an upside-down forest of
stalactites. Similarly, dozens of lava stalagmites on the floor spiked upwards.
As they passed through a narrowing in the passageway, it seemed as though they
were passing through the gullet of a hungry giant--or perhaps the mouth of a
mysterious cave creature that belonged in one of their X-Files.
Had they been assigned this case a month ago, things would be so different,
Scully mused as she took in the natural beauty of their environment. Mulder
would be pressing Stu for stories about the Robinson curse, and she would take
every opportunity to discount the tales as impossible. They would continue their
good-natured banter as Mulder would bring up some wild theory about how a
metaphysical event killed those kids, while she would insist that the cause was
something much more earthly.
Along the way, he would find some excuse to tease her, to flirt a bit, and she
would pretend not to notice or to take offense--though, deep down, she had
always secretly relished the attention. It was because of such playful innuendo
that she had gotten the idea that perhaps his feelings for her were more than
partnerly, were more than mere friendship. But Mulder dashed any such hopes the
night he stood her up at Tufano's, and left her to take the heat for his murder
rap.
Damn him for putting this wall up between them. Damn him for backing her into a
corner, forcing her to offer an ultimatum. The truth was, she did not want to
leave him, did not want to leave the X-Files. But he was giving her precious
little choice. She could not continue any more with the status quo; she needed
to know that he was willing to make changes in his treatment of her as a partner
if she were to consider staying. God, she wanted to stay. . . .
They had not even reached the fork when Mulder broke the silence, cutting into
her reverie.
"So, Uncle Stu, what can you tell us about the spirits of this cave? Agent
Scully here has always been especially fascinated by these kinds of stories. I'm
sure she's love to hear all about the legends."
Scully tightened her grip on her flashlight, and Mulder readied himself for a
confrontation. He was sure she was going to try to change the subject, or shoot
down Stu's tales as fiction before he even had a chance to expand upon them.
For her part, Scully realized that Mulder was deliberately trying to aggravate
her--probably in retribution for the silent treatment she had been giving him.
Well, she was damned if she would give him the satisfaction of thinking he was
getting on her nerves. Thus she decided to do something unexpected, just to keep
him on his toes.
"Yes, go ahead, Stu. Tell us all about the local *superstitions*," she said
casually, emphasizing the last word.
Stopping and moving to face the two agents, Stu shook his head slowly. "This
ain't no superstition." He paused, turned his head to the side, and spat onto
the ground.
Scully crinkled up her nose, not sure whether to be amused or offended. "I stand
corrected. Perhaps you could tell us the story while we continue--"
"Well, little lady, Mr. Federal Agent here wants me to tell you the story of why
this here cave is cursed." With a weary sigh, Stu lowered himself onto a wide,
flat rock. "Ah, that's much better. Why don't you take a load off, honey?" he
suggested to Scully, patting the rock beside him with a wink.
"I'm fine where I am," Scully declined. Irked as she was by this case and the
unsubtle ogling of 'Uncle Stu', Scully nonetheless recognized the merit of their
taking a brief rest stop.
"Well, then, at least wet your whistle," Stu said, handing her his canteen.
"All right. Thanks," she replied, taking it from him. "Just make it quick, Stu.
We're due to check in with Robinson in a couple hours."
Stu, however, was the kind of storyteller who fed on an attentive audience. When
Scully noticed that Mulder was enraptured before the tale had even begun, she
had the feeling that her plea had just fallen on deaf ears.
"Well, legend has it that there's an angry Kahuna spirit that haunts this cave,"
Stu began.
"Kahuna?" Scully asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow. She took a small
cautious sip from the canteen. Finding no evidence of added spirits, she then
took a few large gulps.
"Yep, Kahuna." Stu looked at her, and so did Mulder.
After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Scully noticed that both men
were staring in her direction. She sighed. This was like pulling teeth. "What,
exactly, is a 'Kahuna'?" she asked, handing Mulder the canteen. "Sounds like the
name of a strip club," she muttered under her breath.
"Don't knock other people's religions, Scully," Mulder rebuked her. "A Kahuna is
a native medicine man or priest. Sort of like a Hawaiian witch doctor."
Scully crossed her arms, annoyed.
"Listen to your man, little lady." Stu grinned, watching Scully's eyes snap,
even as Mulder choked on the water he was trying to swallow.
"I was not denigrating anyone's religion," she said, looking directly at Mulder.
"I was just asking for clarification. To have all the facts." She then turned
toward the guide. "And let's get something straight right now, Stuart. I am no
one's property," Scully growled, eyes narrowing in contempt. "Most especially
Agent Mulder's."
"Pardon me, Miss FBI Agent . . . your *partner*, not your man. I was thinking
they were the same thing." Uncle Stu gave her a sly grin and a wink.
Scully pressed her lips together until they formed a thin line. It was taking
all her willpower not to react to the grin Mulder was trying unsuccessfully to
hide.
Stu sensed the need to appease her before he pushed her too far. "Actually, Mr.
G-Man, you're only half right. A Kahuna is a priest or a priestess. In this here
case, it's female."
Seeing Scully relax a bit when her partner was gently rebuked, Stu gave her
another wink.
"So, how did she come to inhabit this cave, Uncle Stu?" Mulder asked, seemingly
unperturbed, as he returned the canteen.
Stu sat up straighter and placed his hands on his knees. He took a deep breath
as he began his tale with a dramatic flare that he had perfected over the past
several decades. "About a hundred years ago there was a lovely young priestess
named Meleahana who fell in love--with the wrong man. She was sought after by
Hi'akono, who was a priest himself. But, alas, Meleahana was a young flower and
Hi'akono was like an old withered coconut. . . . She did not love him, could not
love him. Instead Meleahana fell in love with a young warrior."
Upon hearing Uncle Stu's metaphors, Scully felt her anger lift a little. She had
to admit, he was an entertaining storyteller.
"Hi'akono was most displeased," Stu continued, "and he cursed Meleahana for
rejecting him, and he cursed her lover as well."
"That's some serious dating scene those Hawaiian priests and priestesses had
back then," Mulder muttered offhandedly.
"He was a powerful man, Hi'akono was, and he had the ear of the Chief, who was
persuaded to pursue Meleahana and her lover for a sacrifice to the fiery volcano
goddess Pele. Meleahana and her lover discovered Hi'akono's plans for revenge,
and they escaped together into the jungle under the watchful eye of a full moon.
"For three days and nights they were hunted, but as twilight fell on the third
day, Meleahana's lover was injured by a poisoned arrow and could but only
hobble. So hobble they did to the nearest cave--this very cave--where they
realized that the young warrior's injuries were grave indeed. Determined to save
her lover, the young and beautiful--but only as yet partially trained--Meleahana
chanted a healing spell. But, alas, it went awry."
"Happens to me all the time," Mulder remarked sympathetically. "Those healing
spells are a bitch to remember."
"He's one of those types that always talks talks talks--on account of he likes
to hear himself speak, eh?" Stu asked Scully.
Her resulting smirk was sufficient acknowledgment. Scully found that the good-
natured guide was beginning to grow on her.
"Anyhow," Stu resumed, "instead of the proper prayer for healing magic, young
Meleahana forgot some crucial text in the chant. The spell was reversed, and it
became a death chant! Oh horror, anguish!" Stu exclaimed, tossing his arms into
the air. "Meleahana had killed her beloved instead of healing him! Lo and behold
the young warrior--" Stu held a fist up above his shoulder--"where he was once
ripe as a banana was now only a limp discarded peel." Stu uncurled his fingers
and let his hand flop forward on his wrist.
Mulder snorted, and even Scully had to bite her lip to maintain her composure.
"Meleahana bared her lovely young breasts--like ripened cantaloupes they were--
to the air, and she beat them in her despair." And at this point Uncle Stu's
eyes drifted over to Scully and he leered suggestively--imagining her as a
scantily clad priestess no doubt.
Fighting a smile, Scully bowed her head, avoiding Stu's gaze. A part of her was
insanely flattered by the attention--and was desperately trying to prevent the
more sensible part of her from taking offense at the lewd comments. She could
just barely make out Mulder's commentary, murmured under his breath. "My,
Meleahana--what big kahunas you have."
Scully was not unaware of the older man's continued ogling. Growing more
uncomfortable, she tightened her arms around herself, as though to shield
herself from his undressing eyes, and pinned him with a fixed stare. Enough was
enough.
Stu went on with his story, unrepentant even with Scully's freezing glare on
him. The same glare that made Mulder's balls shrink up into his body. Stu was
either very stupid or just stupidly brave.
"Mad with grief," Stu resumed, "Meleahana espied her lover's most prized
harpoon--with a point made of sharpened bone--which she grasped and plunged
deeply between her lovely young breasts. And thus she died, eyes wide open and
staring at the sky . . . and a curse on Hi'akono upon her lips." Uncle Stu
lapsed into silence, allowing the two partners time to digest the end of his
tale.
"How tragic," Mulder remarked after a respectful pause. "And now her spirit
haunts this cave?"
"A-yup. The legend of two lovers seeking shelter and ultimately dying together
here tends to attract all sorts of couples to the cave." He eyed Mulder and then
Scully speculatively. "Y'see, on account of its history, this is a well known
place for the local kids to come and make out. I've heard talk of fighting
couples coming out rosy, strangers getting married. They say there's something
aphrodee-zee-ac about the place." He leered at Scully in a friendly way.
"So, the legend explains why and Scott and Kilikina chose this cave for their
midnight rendezvous spot," Mulder said.
Scully's brow furrowed. "But what does it have to do with their deaths? You
just said coming to the cave does wonders for people's relationships, Stu."
Both agents watched silently as the old man stroked his stubbly chin, evidently
lost deep in thought. "Ah, it varies with the Kahuna's mood--which you could say
depends upon the way the wind blows. With the Kahuna's blessing, couples leave
here deeply in love. But if she disapproves of the union . . . they don't stay
together very long. For as many stories as there've been about a pair walking
off into the sunset, there are an equal number about 'em splitting up."
"So you think the Kahuna disapproved of Scott and Kilikina's union?" Scully
asked.
Uncle Stu took out a dirty handkerchief and blew his nose, the loud honking
reverberating in the cave. "Pardon me, little lady. I've got clogged sinuses."
He replaced the soiled cloth in his shirt pocket. "I've never heard of anyone
being killed by the Kahuna, no." He shrugged. "I'm no detective . . . you two
are the Feds--specializing in paranormal happenstance you said, right? You tell
me."
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Scully sighed, exasperated. "I thought you said this was
a curse."
"Well, yeah--the priestess is cursed to reside in this cave for all eternity."
Mulder paced back and forth, absently brushing away a mosquito from his neck,
leaving in its place a streak of blood. "There has to be a connection between
the legend of the Kahuna and those kids' deaths." Mulder addressed Uncle Stu but
he was looking at Scully.
Mulder's theory was falling on deaf ears in the case of his partner. "As far as
I'm concerned, this hike has wasted enough of my--our," Scully quickly corrected
herself--"time. Can we please keep on going? The sooner we find whatever it is
Agent Mulder is looking for, the sooner we can get the hell out of here."
"Perhaps the presence of a similar couple--one who's union was frowned upon--was
too much and awakened the Kahuna," Mulder posited. "And angered her so much that
she struck out at them." He looked at Scully expectantly but it was Uncle Stu
who answered.
"Mebbe you're onto something there, Mr. FBI."
Frustrated with this angry spirit mumbo-jumbo nonsense, Scully was determined to
knock a hole in her partner's theory. The sooner they finished this
conversation, the sooner they would move on, the sooner they could discover the
true cause of death--and the sooner this case would be over. "Are Kahunas known
for melting all of the soft tissue off of their victims?" Scully asked Stu, the
hostility in her voice unmistakable.
Stu started to reply, but Scully cut him off with a wave of the hand. "What was
that?" she asked, looking behind them. Grabbing her flashlight, she pointed the
beam of light back down the path they had come.
Mulder and Stu both looked up, Mulder reaching for his gun in a practiced fluid
motion that had even Scully impressed--especially given the fact that he was
still recuperating from a gunshot wound.
"What was what?" Uncle Stu asked.
"I thought I heard something," Scully said, quickly reaching to the small of her
back to retrieve her own weapon. She took a few cautious steps, arms crossed at
the wrists, gun and flashlight pointing into the darkness.
Mulder took up a stance next to her, his bitterness and hurt at their foundering
partnership melting away in the danger of the moment.
"Probably just some rocks falling," Stu called to them as he rose stiffly to his
feet and dusted off his worn jeans. "Loosened when we walked past. That's the
source of all this here dust, y'know." He reached for his own lamp. "Perhaps
it's best we get movin', kids," he suggested.
Unable to see anything in the dim light cast by the halogen lamp, Mulder
reluctantly reholstered his gun. He looked at Scully, his gaze speaking volumes,
but she refused to glance his way and brusquely moved past him to join Stu.
Scully once again fell into step behind the guide as they took the left fork in
the path. She followed him silently, but her posture indicated that she was much
more alert for any changes in their surroundings. The soft crunching of boots on
stone assured her that Mulder was only a few paces behind.
For a moment there, it had felt like old times, she realized. In the danger of
the moment, they were acting on instinct, ready to back one another up, to face
the unknown threat together. It was perfectly natural. It felt wonderful. God,
she missed him. She did not want to lose her partner, her best friend. Maybe
there was still a chance for them. If Mulder were willing to make the first
move. . . .
With a sigh, Scully let the thought go unfinished, instead focusing her
attention on the caves around them and any other signs of impending danger.
For nearly an hour, they continued to hike through the lava caves. Around them,
pahoehoe flows--smooth and flowing in appearance--sculpted the interior of the
cave into silky shapes that contrasted sharply with the sharp stalagmites and
stalactites that had greeted their eyes earlier in their journey. In certain
spots, pillow lava had hardened into tongue-like protrusions that appeared to be
lapping at the air, yearning for a taste of whomever might be passing by. It
was moist, dark, and cool--like going to the netherworld, Mulder mused. It was
easy to see how superstitious islanders had named this place the home of a
Kahuna spirit.
Abruptly, the path seemed to end as they approached a semi-steep incline. Mulder
was about to ask if they should double back to take the right passageway when
Stu quickly located hand- and footholds and started to ascend. Without any
hesitation, Scully followed suit. Shrugging, Mulder climbed after Scully and
Stu.
"Funny how the tragedy that befell one young couple could so greatly affect the
lives of so many others," Mulder remarked after a while.
Stu chuckled. "Reminds me of this old Hawaiian proverb my granny was fond of.
I'm a quarter Hawaiian you know, and I can trace my blood back to the royal
Hawaiian family. . . ."
"The proverb, Stu?" Mulder prompted, though his tone was gentle.
"Ah, yes. Granny used to say 'Ukuli'i ka pua, onaona i ka mau'u'." Both agents
were impressed with the older man's accent. "It means 'Tiny is the flower, yet
it scents the grasses around it'," Stu translated.
"The ripple effect," Scully remarked to no one in particular.
Stu called out merrily, "Come along now Feddies. Once we get to the top, this
path we're following loops back 'round to the local love nest where those kids
were found."
"So we're almost back at the entrance?" Mulder asked.
"Yep. Maybe 'nother hour or so," Stu replied.
The melody of their guide's whistling and the scrape of boots against rock were
the only sounds to be heard for the next half hour. By then, the top of the
incline was finally in sight. Stu made it to level ground first. Then it was
Scully's turn.
While searching carefully for a foothold in a steep bit of terrain, her foot
slipped abruptly. Though she quickly caught her balance, she could not prevent a
small cascade of pebbles and dirt from sliding down . . . straight into Mulder's
face.
He cursed, coughing and spitting the dust from his mouth.
"Oops. Sorry, Mulder," she called lamely, as Stu held out a hand to help her
onto the landing. "You okay?"
Momentarily blinded by the dust, Mulder blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his
eyes. "Oh, just peachy," he replied, still choking. "Aside from the fact that I
can't breathe or see shit right now," he remarked.
"Believe me, even with dirt in your eyes, the piles of bat terds are impossible
to miss," Uncle Stu told him.
"Bats?" Mulder asked warily, his voice an octave higher.
It was then that all hell broke loose.
It started as a low rumbling, almost like a distant drum beat. Scully felt it
first as a small vibration beneath her feet.
"What the hell was that?" Mulder asked. Looking up, he thought he could make out
Scully's form, silhouetted by the light of Stu's flashlight.
"Remember those disturbances I warned you about? I was hopin' we'd be able to
make it through our hike without encounterin' any slides. I suggest you hustle,
Mr. G-Man!" he heard Stu shout. "That ain't gonna be the safest spot to be
hangin' from a few moments from now."
"C'mon, Mulder!" Scully called down to him. "Climb up the rest of the way!"
The roaring grew louder, accompanied by a low thrum of power that was unlike any
natural cave-in.
Mulder felt the rock he was clutching starting to vibrate. The small outcropping
that served as one of his handholds seemed to be coming loose. His instincts
told him to hold on for dear life.
When it came to working on the X-Files, Mulder's intuition usually helped him
solve his cases. Right now, though, he feared that his instincts were going to
lead to his taking a swan dive off the incline and his body becoming a smear on
the ground below.
"Goddammit, Mulder, move!" Scully shouted, her tone urgent. "Get your ass up
here now! Don't make me have to come down there and get you!"
Looking up, he could see Scully's face peeking over the edge of the ledge, her
outstretched hand reaching for him. He was frozen, afraid to let go lest he
should lose his precarious grip on the rock.
Looking down at Mulder's immobile form, terror gripped Scully's heart. Her anger
forgotten, all she felt were fear and dread that he was about to be crushed by
the larger rocks that were starting to fall--if he did not lose his grip and
plummet downward first.
She recognized the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. She also
realized that he was too far away for her to reach.
She fought desperately to keep her voice calm and unwavering as she called down
to him, though there was no mistaking the urgency of her tone. "This is a piece
of cake, Mulder. That slope in Antarctica was twice as high and twice as steep--
and you were lugging me along with you!"
Taking a deep breath, Mulder reached up for a higher handhold. He pulled himself
up a bit, found another foothold.
"That's it, Mulder!" Scully called, encouraging him. "Almost there!"
The shaking continued to loosen pieces of stone as he climbed. One small rock
tumbled past him, then another. One struck the flashlight which was fastened to
his backpack, and it fell free, skidding downwards, bumping repeatedly into the
cliffside as it descended. Mulder prayed that he would not succumb to a similar
fate.
Suddenly, his foot slipped, and in the next instant the rock beneath one hand
crumbled, leaving him hanging by only his right hand.
"Mulder!" Scully shrieked. "Oh God! Hang on! Mulder, give me your hand!"
He tried to raise his left arm up over his head. The muscles of his right
shoulder--still sore from his recent injury--sung out in protest. Gritting his
teeth against the pain, he reached up toward Scully.
Leaning as far over the edge as she dared, Scully struggled to stretch her
fingers the rest of the distance. "Gotcha!" she gasped, finally clasping his
hand in hers. With Stu's aid, she helped Mulder pull himself over the top of the
ledge and onto level ground. Before he could even attempt to catch his breath,
he felt her tugging him to his feet. "C'mon, Mulder--we need to get away from
the edge."
"Agents! This way!" Stu called, heading toward the nearest of two exit routes.
Before they could move more than a few feet, the very walls seemed to move as
though alive.
Scully watched in horror as a soccer-sized piece of rock struck the guide on the
back. He crumpled to the ground like a rag doll.
"Stu!" she shouted, fighting desperately to maintain her balance. She tried to
reach him, but during a particularly violent lurch, she was tossed off-balance.
She landed hard on her side, and even with her helmet, her head still took a
heavy blow--enough to make her see stars. The force of her fall knocked the wind
out of her and caused her to lose her grip on her flashlight.
She could barely make out Mulder shouting her name above the noise of the cave-
in. As the heavy duty flashlight fell and bounced away, she caught a glimpse of
her partner heading for her. A moment later, even that meager light was
extinguished by falling rock.
And then all was dark.
End Chapter 2
*****
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language, adult situations
Spoilers: Through Season Six
Keywords: M/S UST, S/Other Romance
Summary: Sequel to "Not the Doctor." Their partnership on shaky ground, Mulder
and Scully are called in to investigate the mysterious death of two teenagers in
a Hawaiian cave. While exploring the crime scene and its vicinity, they are
trapped by a cave-in. Will they be able to find their way out--without killing
each other first?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 2
Mulder was about to bite the bullet and just talk to Scully. But in the end,
fate made his decision for him.
Hearing a noise behind them, both agents turned toward the small, dark tunnel
from which the sound had emanated. There was a crunching of feet on gravel,
followed by a faint beam of light which grew brighter as the figure approached.
A moment later, their guide emerged from the passageway, a bit grimier than when
he had left, but apparently none the worse for wear.
"Sorry I took so long," Stu said, pulling off his helmet and wiping his sweaty
forehead with his shirt sleeve. "I see you two haven't managed to kill one
another while I was gone," he remarked with a twinkle in his eye. "Y'know, I
haven't had to play monkey in the middle since my brother and his wife visited
last year."
Mulder actually cracked a small, amused smile. Scully, however, shot Stu a look
that indicated any further comment on the matter would lead to his receiving
bodily harm.
Stu was either oblivious to Scully's body language, or else not worried because
he did not let the matter rest. "I tell ya, when Detective Agbayani told me two
Feds wanted me to guide them through the Lehua Caves, you two were not at all
what I expected."
"Oh?" asked Mulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Scully
crossing her arms. "How's that?" As he turned his back to her, he could
practically feel Scully's eyes shooting daggers in his direction.
"I thought when I got here I'd find two stiffs in dark suits an' ties."
"Well, field work in rough terrains such as this one does necessitate--"
"It's not just the clothes, Agent Scully," Stu interrupted. "I expected
whispered secrets, conspiratorial looks, an' if I were to ask you for
information about this here case, lines like 'That's on a need to know basis'."
"'And *you* don't need to know'," Mulder finished, a mock harshness in his tone.
"See, that's what I mean, Special Agent Man," Stu said, chuckling. "You've got a
healthy sense of humor. That's a rare trait in a government employee these
days."
"Well, I've never been the conventional sort--"
His musings were cut short by a very loud "Ahem!" Both men turned to see Scully
glaring at them, arms crossed. "Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. As fascinating as
I find this conversation, it's getting late, and I believe we still have quite a
bit ground to cover. Stu, was the path negotiable up ahead?"
"A little rough, Agent Scully, but we shouldn't have much of a problem. After
about fifty feet or so, the path forks. We'll bear to the left--that's the more
superficial tunnel."
"All right then," Scully said, picking up her flashlight. "Let's do it."
Nodding, Stu retrieved his own lamp and started off down the path. Scully
exchanged a brief perturbed look with Mulder. He held his arm out, gesturing for
her to go next. Without a word, she brushed past him and followed Stu, with
Mulder taking up the rear.
Scully glanced around at their surroundings as they walked. Shadows cast by
their flashlights leapt and danced around them, causing their distorted figures
to loom menacingly over the walls. Around them, the rock was worn smooth by
cylindrical deposits of lava that had cooled into an upside-down forest of
stalactites. Similarly, dozens of lava stalagmites on the floor spiked upwards.
As they passed through a narrowing in the passageway, it seemed as though they
were passing through the gullet of a hungry giant--or perhaps the mouth of a
mysterious cave creature that belonged in one of their X-Files.
Had they been assigned this case a month ago, things would be so different,
Scully mused as she took in the natural beauty of their environment. Mulder
would be pressing Stu for stories about the Robinson curse, and she would take
every opportunity to discount the tales as impossible. They would continue their
good-natured banter as Mulder would bring up some wild theory about how a
metaphysical event killed those kids, while she would insist that the cause was
something much more earthly.
Along the way, he would find some excuse to tease her, to flirt a bit, and she
would pretend not to notice or to take offense--though, deep down, she had
always secretly relished the attention. It was because of such playful innuendo
that she had gotten the idea that perhaps his feelings for her were more than
partnerly, were more than mere friendship. But Mulder dashed any such hopes the
night he stood her up at Tufano's, and left her to take the heat for his murder
rap.
Damn him for putting this wall up between them. Damn him for backing her into a
corner, forcing her to offer an ultimatum. The truth was, she did not want to
leave him, did not want to leave the X-Files. But he was giving her precious
little choice. She could not continue any more with the status quo; she needed
to know that he was willing to make changes in his treatment of her as a partner
if she were to consider staying. God, she wanted to stay. . . .
They had not even reached the fork when Mulder broke the silence, cutting into
her reverie.
"So, Uncle Stu, what can you tell us about the spirits of this cave? Agent
Scully here has always been especially fascinated by these kinds of stories. I'm
sure she's love to hear all about the legends."
Scully tightened her grip on her flashlight, and Mulder readied himself for a
confrontation. He was sure she was going to try to change the subject, or shoot
down Stu's tales as fiction before he even had a chance to expand upon them.
For her part, Scully realized that Mulder was deliberately trying to aggravate
her--probably in retribution for the silent treatment she had been giving him.
Well, she was damned if she would give him the satisfaction of thinking he was
getting on her nerves. Thus she decided to do something unexpected, just to keep
him on his toes.
"Yes, go ahead, Stu. Tell us all about the local *superstitions*," she said
casually, emphasizing the last word.
Stopping and moving to face the two agents, Stu shook his head slowly. "This
ain't no superstition." He paused, turned his head to the side, and spat onto
the ground.
Scully crinkled up her nose, not sure whether to be amused or offended. "I stand
corrected. Perhaps you could tell us the story while we continue--"
"Well, little lady, Mr. Federal Agent here wants me to tell you the story of why
this here cave is cursed." With a weary sigh, Stu lowered himself onto a wide,
flat rock. "Ah, that's much better. Why don't you take a load off, honey?" he
suggested to Scully, patting the rock beside him with a wink.
"I'm fine where I am," Scully declined. Irked as she was by this case and the
unsubtle ogling of 'Uncle Stu', Scully nonetheless recognized the merit of their
taking a brief rest stop.
"Well, then, at least wet your whistle," Stu said, handing her his canteen.
"All right. Thanks," she replied, taking it from him. "Just make it quick, Stu.
We're due to check in with Robinson in a couple hours."
Stu, however, was the kind of storyteller who fed on an attentive audience. When
Scully noticed that Mulder was enraptured before the tale had even begun, she
had the feeling that her plea had just fallen on deaf ears.
"Well, legend has it that there's an angry Kahuna spirit that haunts this cave,"
Stu began.
"Kahuna?" Scully asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow. She took a small
cautious sip from the canteen. Finding no evidence of added spirits, she then
took a few large gulps.
"Yep, Kahuna." Stu looked at her, and so did Mulder.
After wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Scully noticed that both men
were staring in her direction. She sighed. This was like pulling teeth. "What,
exactly, is a 'Kahuna'?" she asked, handing Mulder the canteen. "Sounds like the
name of a strip club," she muttered under her breath.
"Don't knock other people's religions, Scully," Mulder rebuked her. "A Kahuna is
a native medicine man or priest. Sort of like a Hawaiian witch doctor."
Scully crossed her arms, annoyed.
"Listen to your man, little lady." Stu grinned, watching Scully's eyes snap,
even as Mulder choked on the water he was trying to swallow.
"I was not denigrating anyone's religion," she said, looking directly at Mulder.
"I was just asking for clarification. To have all the facts." She then turned
toward the guide. "And let's get something straight right now, Stuart. I am no
one's property," Scully growled, eyes narrowing in contempt. "Most especially
Agent Mulder's."
"Pardon me, Miss FBI Agent . . . your *partner*, not your man. I was thinking
they were the same thing." Uncle Stu gave her a sly grin and a wink.
Scully pressed her lips together until they formed a thin line. It was taking
all her willpower not to react to the grin Mulder was trying unsuccessfully to
hide.
Stu sensed the need to appease her before he pushed her too far. "Actually, Mr.
G-Man, you're only half right. A Kahuna is a priest or a priestess. In this here
case, it's female."
Seeing Scully relax a bit when her partner was gently rebuked, Stu gave her
another wink.
"So, how did she come to inhabit this cave, Uncle Stu?" Mulder asked, seemingly
unperturbed, as he returned the canteen.
Stu sat up straighter and placed his hands on his knees. He took a deep breath
as he began his tale with a dramatic flare that he had perfected over the past
several decades. "About a hundred years ago there was a lovely young priestess
named Meleahana who fell in love--with the wrong man. She was sought after by
Hi'akono, who was a priest himself. But, alas, Meleahana was a young flower and
Hi'akono was like an old withered coconut. . . . She did not love him, could not
love him. Instead Meleahana fell in love with a young warrior."
Upon hearing Uncle Stu's metaphors, Scully felt her anger lift a little. She had
to admit, he was an entertaining storyteller.
"Hi'akono was most displeased," Stu continued, "and he cursed Meleahana for
rejecting him, and he cursed her lover as well."
"That's some serious dating scene those Hawaiian priests and priestesses had
back then," Mulder muttered offhandedly.
"He was a powerful man, Hi'akono was, and he had the ear of the Chief, who was
persuaded to pursue Meleahana and her lover for a sacrifice to the fiery volcano
goddess Pele. Meleahana and her lover discovered Hi'akono's plans for revenge,
and they escaped together into the jungle under the watchful eye of a full moon.
"For three days and nights they were hunted, but as twilight fell on the third
day, Meleahana's lover was injured by a poisoned arrow and could but only
hobble. So hobble they did to the nearest cave--this very cave--where they
realized that the young warrior's injuries were grave indeed. Determined to save
her lover, the young and beautiful--but only as yet partially trained--Meleahana
chanted a healing spell. But, alas, it went awry."
"Happens to me all the time," Mulder remarked sympathetically. "Those healing
spells are a bitch to remember."
"He's one of those types that always talks talks talks--on account of he likes
to hear himself speak, eh?" Stu asked Scully.
Her resulting smirk was sufficient acknowledgment. Scully found that the good-
natured guide was beginning to grow on her.
"Anyhow," Stu resumed, "instead of the proper prayer for healing magic, young
Meleahana forgot some crucial text in the chant. The spell was reversed, and it
became a death chant! Oh horror, anguish!" Stu exclaimed, tossing his arms into
the air. "Meleahana had killed her beloved instead of healing him! Lo and behold
the young warrior--" Stu held a fist up above his shoulder--"where he was once
ripe as a banana was now only a limp discarded peel." Stu uncurled his fingers
and let his hand flop forward on his wrist.
Mulder snorted, and even Scully had to bite her lip to maintain her composure.
"Meleahana bared her lovely young breasts--like ripened cantaloupes they were--
to the air, and she beat them in her despair." And at this point Uncle Stu's
eyes drifted over to Scully and he leered suggestively--imagining her as a
scantily clad priestess no doubt.
Fighting a smile, Scully bowed her head, avoiding Stu's gaze. A part of her was
insanely flattered by the attention--and was desperately trying to prevent the
more sensible part of her from taking offense at the lewd comments. She could
just barely make out Mulder's commentary, murmured under his breath. "My,
Meleahana--what big kahunas you have."
Scully was not unaware of the older man's continued ogling. Growing more
uncomfortable, she tightened her arms around herself, as though to shield
herself from his undressing eyes, and pinned him with a fixed stare. Enough was
enough.
Stu went on with his story, unrepentant even with Scully's freezing glare on
him. The same glare that made Mulder's balls shrink up into his body. Stu was
either very stupid or just stupidly brave.
"Mad with grief," Stu resumed, "Meleahana espied her lover's most prized
harpoon--with a point made of sharpened bone--which she grasped and plunged
deeply between her lovely young breasts. And thus she died, eyes wide open and
staring at the sky . . . and a curse on Hi'akono upon her lips." Uncle Stu
lapsed into silence, allowing the two partners time to digest the end of his
tale.
"How tragic," Mulder remarked after a respectful pause. "And now her spirit
haunts this cave?"
"A-yup. The legend of two lovers seeking shelter and ultimately dying together
here tends to attract all sorts of couples to the cave." He eyed Mulder and then
Scully speculatively. "Y'see, on account of its history, this is a well known
place for the local kids to come and make out. I've heard talk of fighting
couples coming out rosy, strangers getting married. They say there's something
aphrodee-zee-ac about the place." He leered at Scully in a friendly way.
"So, the legend explains why and Scott and Kilikina chose this cave for their
midnight rendezvous spot," Mulder said.
Scully's brow furrowed. "But what does it have to do with their deaths? You
just said coming to the cave does wonders for people's relationships, Stu."
Both agents watched silently as the old man stroked his stubbly chin, evidently
lost deep in thought. "Ah, it varies with the Kahuna's mood--which you could say
depends upon the way the wind blows. With the Kahuna's blessing, couples leave
here deeply in love. But if she disapproves of the union . . . they don't stay
together very long. For as many stories as there've been about a pair walking
off into the sunset, there are an equal number about 'em splitting up."
"So you think the Kahuna disapproved of Scott and Kilikina's union?" Scully
asked.
Uncle Stu took out a dirty handkerchief and blew his nose, the loud honking
reverberating in the cave. "Pardon me, little lady. I've got clogged sinuses."
He replaced the soiled cloth in his shirt pocket. "I've never heard of anyone
being killed by the Kahuna, no." He shrugged. "I'm no detective . . . you two
are the Feds--specializing in paranormal happenstance you said, right? You tell
me."
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Scully sighed, exasperated. "I thought you said this was
a curse."
"Well, yeah--the priestess is cursed to reside in this cave for all eternity."
Mulder paced back and forth, absently brushing away a mosquito from his neck,
leaving in its place a streak of blood. "There has to be a connection between
the legend of the Kahuna and those kids' deaths." Mulder addressed Uncle Stu but
he was looking at Scully.
Mulder's theory was falling on deaf ears in the case of his partner. "As far as
I'm concerned, this hike has wasted enough of my--our," Scully quickly corrected
herself--"time. Can we please keep on going? The sooner we find whatever it is
Agent Mulder is looking for, the sooner we can get the hell out of here."
"Perhaps the presence of a similar couple--one who's union was frowned upon--was
too much and awakened the Kahuna," Mulder posited. "And angered her so much that
she struck out at them." He looked at Scully expectantly but it was Uncle Stu
who answered.
"Mebbe you're onto something there, Mr. FBI."
Frustrated with this angry spirit mumbo-jumbo nonsense, Scully was determined to
knock a hole in her partner's theory. The sooner they finished this
conversation, the sooner they would move on, the sooner they could discover the
true cause of death--and the sooner this case would be over. "Are Kahunas known
for melting all of the soft tissue off of their victims?" Scully asked Stu, the
hostility in her voice unmistakable.
Stu started to reply, but Scully cut him off with a wave of the hand. "What was
that?" she asked, looking behind them. Grabbing her flashlight, she pointed the
beam of light back down the path they had come.
Mulder and Stu both looked up, Mulder reaching for his gun in a practiced fluid
motion that had even Scully impressed--especially given the fact that he was
still recuperating from a gunshot wound.
"What was what?" Uncle Stu asked.
"I thought I heard something," Scully said, quickly reaching to the small of her
back to retrieve her own weapon. She took a few cautious steps, arms crossed at
the wrists, gun and flashlight pointing into the darkness.
Mulder took up a stance next to her, his bitterness and hurt at their foundering
partnership melting away in the danger of the moment.
"Probably just some rocks falling," Stu called to them as he rose stiffly to his
feet and dusted off his worn jeans. "Loosened when we walked past. That's the
source of all this here dust, y'know." He reached for his own lamp. "Perhaps
it's best we get movin', kids," he suggested.
Unable to see anything in the dim light cast by the halogen lamp, Mulder
reluctantly reholstered his gun. He looked at Scully, his gaze speaking volumes,
but she refused to glance his way and brusquely moved past him to join Stu.
Scully once again fell into step behind the guide as they took the left fork in
the path. She followed him silently, but her posture indicated that she was much
more alert for any changes in their surroundings. The soft crunching of boots on
stone assured her that Mulder was only a few paces behind.
For a moment there, it had felt like old times, she realized. In the danger of
the moment, they were acting on instinct, ready to back one another up, to face
the unknown threat together. It was perfectly natural. It felt wonderful. God,
she missed him. She did not want to lose her partner, her best friend. Maybe
there was still a chance for them. If Mulder were willing to make the first
move. . . .
With a sigh, Scully let the thought go unfinished, instead focusing her
attention on the caves around them and any other signs of impending danger.
For nearly an hour, they continued to hike through the lava caves. Around them,
pahoehoe flows--smooth and flowing in appearance--sculpted the interior of the
cave into silky shapes that contrasted sharply with the sharp stalagmites and
stalactites that had greeted their eyes earlier in their journey. In certain
spots, pillow lava had hardened into tongue-like protrusions that appeared to be
lapping at the air, yearning for a taste of whomever might be passing by. It
was moist, dark, and cool--like going to the netherworld, Mulder mused. It was
easy to see how superstitious islanders had named this place the home of a
Kahuna spirit.
Abruptly, the path seemed to end as they approached a semi-steep incline. Mulder
was about to ask if they should double back to take the right passageway when
Stu quickly located hand- and footholds and started to ascend. Without any
hesitation, Scully followed suit. Shrugging, Mulder climbed after Scully and
Stu.
"Funny how the tragedy that befell one young couple could so greatly affect the
lives of so many others," Mulder remarked after a while.
Stu chuckled. "Reminds me of this old Hawaiian proverb my granny was fond of.
I'm a quarter Hawaiian you know, and I can trace my blood back to the royal
Hawaiian family. . . ."
"The proverb, Stu?" Mulder prompted, though his tone was gentle.
"Ah, yes. Granny used to say 'Ukuli'i ka pua, onaona i ka mau'u'." Both agents
were impressed with the older man's accent. "It means 'Tiny is the flower, yet
it scents the grasses around it'," Stu translated.
"The ripple effect," Scully remarked to no one in particular.
Stu called out merrily, "Come along now Feddies. Once we get to the top, this
path we're following loops back 'round to the local love nest where those kids
were found."
"So we're almost back at the entrance?" Mulder asked.
"Yep. Maybe 'nother hour or so," Stu replied.
The melody of their guide's whistling and the scrape of boots against rock were
the only sounds to be heard for the next half hour. By then, the top of the
incline was finally in sight. Stu made it to level ground first. Then it was
Scully's turn.
While searching carefully for a foothold in a steep bit of terrain, her foot
slipped abruptly. Though she quickly caught her balance, she could not prevent a
small cascade of pebbles and dirt from sliding down . . . straight into Mulder's
face.
He cursed, coughing and spitting the dust from his mouth.
"Oops. Sorry, Mulder," she called lamely, as Stu held out a hand to help her
onto the landing. "You okay?"
Momentarily blinded by the dust, Mulder blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his
eyes. "Oh, just peachy," he replied, still choking. "Aside from the fact that I
can't breathe or see shit right now," he remarked.
"Believe me, even with dirt in your eyes, the piles of bat terds are impossible
to miss," Uncle Stu told him.
"Bats?" Mulder asked warily, his voice an octave higher.
It was then that all hell broke loose.
It started as a low rumbling, almost like a distant drum beat. Scully felt it
first as a small vibration beneath her feet.
"What the hell was that?" Mulder asked. Looking up, he thought he could make out
Scully's form, silhouetted by the light of Stu's flashlight.
"Remember those disturbances I warned you about? I was hopin' we'd be able to
make it through our hike without encounterin' any slides. I suggest you hustle,
Mr. G-Man!" he heard Stu shout. "That ain't gonna be the safest spot to be
hangin' from a few moments from now."
"C'mon, Mulder!" Scully called down to him. "Climb up the rest of the way!"
The roaring grew louder, accompanied by a low thrum of power that was unlike any
natural cave-in.
Mulder felt the rock he was clutching starting to vibrate. The small outcropping
that served as one of his handholds seemed to be coming loose. His instincts
told him to hold on for dear life.
When it came to working on the X-Files, Mulder's intuition usually helped him
solve his cases. Right now, though, he feared that his instincts were going to
lead to his taking a swan dive off the incline and his body becoming a smear on
the ground below.
"Goddammit, Mulder, move!" Scully shouted, her tone urgent. "Get your ass up
here now! Don't make me have to come down there and get you!"
Looking up, he could see Scully's face peeking over the edge of the ledge, her
outstretched hand reaching for him. He was frozen, afraid to let go lest he
should lose his precarious grip on the rock.
Looking down at Mulder's immobile form, terror gripped Scully's heart. Her anger
forgotten, all she felt were fear and dread that he was about to be crushed by
the larger rocks that were starting to fall--if he did not lose his grip and
plummet downward first.
She recognized the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. She also
realized that he was too far away for her to reach.
She fought desperately to keep her voice calm and unwavering as she called down
to him, though there was no mistaking the urgency of her tone. "This is a piece
of cake, Mulder. That slope in Antarctica was twice as high and twice as steep--
and you were lugging me along with you!"
Taking a deep breath, Mulder reached up for a higher handhold. He pulled himself
up a bit, found another foothold.
"That's it, Mulder!" Scully called, encouraging him. "Almost there!"
The shaking continued to loosen pieces of stone as he climbed. One small rock
tumbled past him, then another. One struck the flashlight which was fastened to
his backpack, and it fell free, skidding downwards, bumping repeatedly into the
cliffside as it descended. Mulder prayed that he would not succumb to a similar
fate.
Suddenly, his foot slipped, and in the next instant the rock beneath one hand
crumbled, leaving him hanging by only his right hand.
"Mulder!" Scully shrieked. "Oh God! Hang on! Mulder, give me your hand!"
He tried to raise his left arm up over his head. The muscles of his right
shoulder--still sore from his recent injury--sung out in protest. Gritting his
teeth against the pain, he reached up toward Scully.
Leaning as far over the edge as she dared, Scully struggled to stretch her
fingers the rest of the distance. "Gotcha!" she gasped, finally clasping his
hand in hers. With Stu's aid, she helped Mulder pull himself over the top of the
ledge and onto level ground. Before he could even attempt to catch his breath,
he felt her tugging him to his feet. "C'mon, Mulder--we need to get away from
the edge."
"Agents! This way!" Stu called, heading toward the nearest of two exit routes.
Before they could move more than a few feet, the very walls seemed to move as
though alive.
Scully watched in horror as a soccer-sized piece of rock struck the guide on the
back. He crumpled to the ground like a rag doll.
"Stu!" she shouted, fighting desperately to maintain her balance. She tried to
reach him, but during a particularly violent lurch, she was tossed off-balance.
She landed hard on her side, and even with her helmet, her head still took a
heavy blow--enough to make her see stars. The force of her fall knocked the wind
out of her and caused her to lose her grip on her flashlight.
She could barely make out Mulder shouting her name above the noise of the cave-
in. As the heavy duty flashlight fell and bounced away, she caught a glimpse of
her partner heading for her. A moment later, even that meager light was
extinguished by falling rock.
And then all was dark.
End Chapter 2
*****