Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 03/17
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 3
When Scully was thrown to the ground, Mulder saw the light from her fallen
flashlight briefly reflect off of an enormous stalactite--the tapered,
naturally-formed spear rocking back and forth as it loosened from its bed in the
cave ceiling. Mulder's chest tightened as he realized that it was about to
plummet straight to the ground--and through Scully, who lay directly in its
path.
By the time darkness hit a moment later, Mulder had a rough estimate of the
distance between himself and his partner. More importantly, he had caught a
glimpse of a small alcove in the cave wall just beyond where Scully lay. It gave
him a far-fetched idea of how to save his partner and hopefully keep them both
alive.
Acting on almost pure adrenaline alone, Mulder moved without hesitation, praying
that he would be able to make his plan work.
He got a running start and then leapt through the air, arms outstretched. He
apparently judged the distance and direction correctly, because he made contact
with Scully: just as she had managed to get to her feet, he caught her around
the waist in a flying tackle. He pushed her out of the way just in time; had he
reached her a split second later, she would have been impaled by the falling
stalactite.
They came crashing to the ground together a foot or so shy of the nook in the
cave wall. Disoriented, Scully did not put up too much of a struggle, thank
goodness. Mulder grabbed her around the waist and rolled them over until he felt
his shoulder strike wall. Unfortunately, it was his bad shoulder, and the abrupt
impact sent a sharp pang shooting through his arm and chest. Refusing to let go,
he tried his best to ignore the pain and pulled her against him in their
makeshift cubby hole. He wrapped himself around her tightly, shielding her body
with his own as the cave crashed down around them.
All he could do then was wait--and pray that it would all be over soon, and that
they would survive the cave-in.
He was oddly comforted by the fact that if this was to be their time--if they
were to die here now, buried alive beneath tons of lava rock--at least they
would die together. That seemed somehow fitting. His only regret was that they
were not on the best of terms, that Scully was unaware of his true feelings for
her. He vowed to himself at that moment that if they were to make it out of this
alive, he would make sure she knew how much she meant to him.
For a while, it seemed as though the torrent of falling rock would never end;
but eventually the shaking ceased and the rumbling quieted. Soon the only sound
was of the two partners breathing heavily as they clung to one another in the
darkness.
"You okay, Scully?" Mulder whispered. One hand rested on her shoulder, and the
other moved to cup her cheek.
He not so much saw as felt her nod against him. "I- I think so." It was then
that he realized that she was, for all intents and purposes, sitting in his lap.
That idea evidently made her uncomfortable, because she started to pull back--
not that there was really any place to go in the tiny alcove. To help put her at
ease, Mulder reluctantly released his hold on her. It was the first time he had
touched her in weeks, and even under the extenuating circumstances he was less
than eager to break contact.
In their close quarters, he felt her shift against him, trying to readjust her
position. For the briefest of moments, he felt something soft brush against his
arm; it did not take him long to figure out it was her breast that had touched
him as she arched her back. The mental picture of Scully arching her back--not
to mention the sensation of her contact as she squirmed against him--made his
body thrum with desire.
He was trying to find the voice to ask her what she was doing when her intention
became clear. She must have been reaching into her pocket for a flashlight,
because a moment later, a small beam of light struck Mulder in the eyes,
blinding him.
Instinctively, he jerked his head back--and banged it on a tiny outcropping of
rock behind him. Which then made his jaw bang shut with a loud, painful crack.
"Jesus, Scully! Watch where you're pointing that thing!" he muttered, trying to
shield his eyes.
"I could say the same," she replied disgustedly, pushing back from him and
struggling to extricate herself from their small hideaway.
"Yeah, well, you missed your calling as a lap dancer, Scully," he retorted.
"You'd make a hell of a lot more doing that than you ever could on a government
salary."
"Well, you'd certainly know, wouldn't you?" she shot back.
Hoo boy! Thoughts of spending eternity in her arms and confessing his undying
love for her fell by the wayside. Right now, Mulder had to fight the urge to
wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until her eyes popped out of their
sockets.
"I'd suggest you keep your voice down to a low rumble," he reprimanded. "That
is, unless you want to bring the rest of the house down on top of us."
"It was a cave-in, Mulder, not an avalanche. Shouting won't make a damned bit of
difference."
"Oh, so now you're an expert spelunker?"
This time, she either did not hear him, or chose to ignore him. She was far
enough away at this point that all he could see was the small beam of light on
the ground several feet away. *Great. I have a feeling that a few hours from
now I'm going to wish the cave-in had done me in.*
Reaching into his small satchel, Mulder retrieved his own flashlight. *Don't
leave home without it,* he thought bitterly. Not as powerful as the halogens
they had been using, but it would have to do.
He did a slow three-sixty to observe their immediate surroundings. The meager
beam bounced off of the rough surface of the cave walls, creating strangely-
shaped shadows. As he slowly panned around, he saw that the tunnel they had been
trying to reach in order to return to the cave entrance was now completely
blocked. So much for an easy exit. But further to the right, there had been
another passageway. One which Uncle Stu must have dismissed simply because it
was further. . . .
"Oh shit! Uncle Stu!" Mulder was suddenly assailed with guilt. So blinded was he
by anger toward Scully that thoughts of their injured guide had not even entered
his mind until now. Poor Stu was probably lying there somewhere, needing their
help. "Scully, we've got to find Stu!"
"I think I just did," she called from several feet away. There was a dejected
tone to her voice.
"What? Where?" Mulder approached her with a mixture of caution and urgency. As
he came up beside her, his eyes and flashlight followed the path of her own
beam. "How bad--?" His voice came up short as he caught sight of the old man--or
at least what remained of him.
From beneath a large boulder they could make out one of Stu's wrinkled hands,
fingers frozen in a claw-like stance, a trickle of blood smeared across the
pale, liver-spotted flesh. His arm just above the wrist had been crushed beneath
a large rock. As, apparently, had been the case for the rest of his body.
"Ah, shit," Mulder muttered. "Poor old geezer."
Scully stared down at the hand, her face a blank slate. "The rock I saw hit him
looked to have knocked him unconscious. After that, he probably didn't feel a
thing. Even so, a crushing blow to the head would probably kill almost
instantaneously."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better, Scully?"
"What do you want me to say, Mulder? He's dead. There's not much I can do about
it."
"We asked the guy to show us around the caves to gather evidence for this case.
It wasn't supposed to be dangerous. He wasn't supposed to die. . . ."
"Correction, Mulder," she said, looking up at him, eyes cold as ice. "*You*
asked Stu to show us around these caves. *You* were the one who felt that there
was something else to find here. Like Stu, I'm just along for the ride. And that
could just as easily have been me or you lying there." She looked back down at
Stu's body. When she spoke again, her voice, barely more than a whisper, was
thick with emotion. "I hope whatever it is you're looking for is worth it."
"Scully, you can't honestly blame me for what happened here? You can't think I
wanted something like this to happen?"
"I don't know what to think anymore, Mulder."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What that means, Mulder, is that lately it seems that the only person whose
feelings you've been considering are your own. I feel like I don't know you
anymore. And, quite frankly, I don't know if I want to."
Her words ripped through his heart like a white-hot blade. He knew after their
confrontation in his apartment that Scully was upset with him for ditching her.
He thought he had explained that the delicateness of the investigation
necessitated his having to leave town without contacting her. Even after nearly
two weeks of contemplation, he had yet to figure out where she had come up with
the notion that he did not respect or appreciate her.
He knew that they had some issues that they needed to work through. And while a
small part of him feared that Scully might try to break away, he assumed that
they would get through this kink in their relationship as they usually did.
Never once did he honestly believe that she would choose simply to give up on
him and walk away.
How could she believe that he did not care about her feelings? Surely his
actions--his words--spoke volumes for how he felt about her. Had he not been
there for her, supporting her, as both a partner and friend whenever she needed
him?
When her dad died, and she feared that she had never gained the approval she so
strongly coveted, he helped comfort her and assuage her doubt.
When she was abducted, he never lost faith that she was out there, somewhere.
When she was returned, he fought her family and Scully's own living will, so
strong was his faith that she was fighting to come back to them. Hell, he had
given up any chance at vengeance to sit at her bedside during what they all
thought would be her last night on earth, simply so that she would know that he
was there.
When her sister was killed, he did not hesitate in putting Scully's emotional
needs over the crucial case they were investigating. And when she decided that
the best way for her to get through her grief was to continue to work, he
respected her wishes and offered her his support.
When she was diagnosed with cancer, he dropped everything to be there for her.
He moved heaven and earth to try to find the answers as to the cause of her
illness--and later for the cure. Even his life's quest of trying to find the
truth about his sister's abduction paled in comparison to his need to save
Scully.
When she contacted him with the improbable news that she had discovered a
daughter who had been created without her knowledge or consent--a pixie-faced
little girl named Emily who was very sick and caught in the middle of one of
Their inhuman experiments--he knew that the only place for him was by Scully's
side. He aided her the best he could in her attempts to obtain legal custody of
Emily. And when it became apparent that the girl was not long for this world, he
offered Scully whatever support she needed. Even when she pushed him away, when
she erected her usual emotional barriers, he respected her need to deal with
things on her own--but still made it perfectly clear that he was there for her
when she was ready to talk about it.
Time and again, he had been there for her whenever she needed him. And if Scully
did not recognize the strength of his devotion, of his loyalty, of his love for
her, then perhaps it was for the best that things end between them. After all,
there were only so many times you could bang your head against a brick wall
before either bashing your brains in or walking away. Although either way you
would still have a whopper of a headache. . . .
His musings were cut short when he realized that Scully was kneeling down,
bracing her flashlight beneath her arm.
"What are you doing?" he asked her.
"I'm trying to get him out of there," she said, reaching for a rock.
"Forget it, Scully. You see the size of some of those boulders? We'll never be
able to budge them. And if we upset the balance of the whole thing, we'll be
joining Stu under there."
"But we can't just leave him here. . . ."
"Have you got a better idea? Besides, even if we were to get him out, what are
we gonna do with the body? Were you planning on carrying it around while we look
for a way out?"
She paused, and slowly rose to her feet as the logic of what he was saying began
to sink in. Nonetheless, she still did not seem too happy about the decision.
"It just doesn't seem right . . . leaving him here like this. . .." She gazed
down at Stu's rocky grave, blinking.
"He loved these caves, Scully, and all the legends surrounding them. It's how he
would have wanted it." Mulder placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
He expected her to shrug it away, but she did not react at all to the gesture.
Slowly, she nodded. "I- I guess you're right. I just feel so badly. He was such
a sweet old man."
"A bawdy ole fart is more like it. He made Frohike look like a schoolboy."
She grinned. "Which is probably why you liked him so much."
"I think it's you he had the soft spot for. What is it with you and dirty old
men, Scully?"
"I suggest you ask yourself the same question in a few years, Mulder," she
replied, though her tone was light. "Good-bye, Uncle Stu. May you rest in
peace."
"May the spirit of the cave's Kahuna watch over you," Mulder added.
After several long moments of silence, Scully spoke. "You ready to try to find a
way out of here?"
It still amazed him how she was able to turn her emotions on and off so easily--
as though she had a switch to control them. "Yeah, let's blow this joint."
He followed Scully to where she stood carefully peering over the edge of the
incline they had traversed. "Well, I don't think we'll be going back the way we
came," she remarked matter-of-factly. With the combined luminescence of both of
their flashlights, they were able to discern that much of the facade had
collapsed, leaving precious few hand- or footholds intact. "Our best bet is
probably to try to continue the way we were headed."
"Yeah, except the way we were headed has since been occupied by Uncle Stu and
several tons of igneous rock," Mulder pointed out.
"Wasn't there another tunnel around here somewhere?" Scully began to slowly pan
the walls with her flashlight.
"Over there, I think," Mulder said, directing his own beam to a far corner. Sure
enough, when they moved closer, they could make out a small opening in the rock
pile. It looked to be about a foot-and-a-half wide and slightly less in height.
"Eureka."
"That's going to be an awfully tight fit," Scully said, eying the nook warily.
"And I suppose you've got a better idea?"
She pursed her lips in annoyance. "All right. I'll go first. Give me a boost,
will you?" she asked.
"One boost, coming right up." Bending his knees until he was in a crouch, Mulder
interlaced his fingers and nodded to Scully.
Holding onto his shoulders to steady herself, she stepped into the make-shift
stirrups. "On three? One . . . two . . . three!"
"You've . . . erg . . .been having . . . mph . . . more of those .. . oomph . .
. tofutti rice dreamsicles again . . . hmph . . . huh, Scully?" Mulder asked,
grunting and groaning, as he lifted her upwards.
"Shut up, Mulder," she replied as she grabbed onto the edge of the hole and
hoisted herself towards it.
"Make sure you get a good look before you let go," Mulder warned her. "Could be
a doosey of a first step."
"I've got that covered," she said, already pointing her flashlight through the
hole.
"Can you make anything out?"
"I can see ground about six feet below," she called back, her voice somewhat
muffled as she stuck her head through the opening.
"Does the tunnel lead through?"
"Hard to tell," she replied. "This flashlight doesn't have much reach. It looks
like there's an open passageway. But I'll have to get closer to be sure." She
started to pull her torso through the hole.
"Be careful, Scully. Don't go taking a nose dive onto the cave floor." If she
responded, Mulder did not hear her. Shining his flashlight upwards in her
direction, all he could see was the retreating form of her lower half.
To some, it may have looked as though Scully were being swallowed by a giant
prehistoric creature that had been residing in these rocky depths for eons. To
others it might appear that she were disappearing through a black hole, passing
into some other dimension. But not to Fox Mulder. Despite his proclivity for
catering to such theories, metaphysical thoughts never crossed his mind as he
watched his partner disappear.
Rather, he just stood there admiring the view. After all, it was not every day
he got to watch her little ass wiggle in her snug jeans as she tried to squeeze
through a gap in a cave wall.
End Chapter 3
*****
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 3
When Scully was thrown to the ground, Mulder saw the light from her fallen
flashlight briefly reflect off of an enormous stalactite--the tapered,
naturally-formed spear rocking back and forth as it loosened from its bed in the
cave ceiling. Mulder's chest tightened as he realized that it was about to
plummet straight to the ground--and through Scully, who lay directly in its
path.
By the time darkness hit a moment later, Mulder had a rough estimate of the
distance between himself and his partner. More importantly, he had caught a
glimpse of a small alcove in the cave wall just beyond where Scully lay. It gave
him a far-fetched idea of how to save his partner and hopefully keep them both
alive.
Acting on almost pure adrenaline alone, Mulder moved without hesitation, praying
that he would be able to make his plan work.
He got a running start and then leapt through the air, arms outstretched. He
apparently judged the distance and direction correctly, because he made contact
with Scully: just as she had managed to get to her feet, he caught her around
the waist in a flying tackle. He pushed her out of the way just in time; had he
reached her a split second later, she would have been impaled by the falling
stalactite.
They came crashing to the ground together a foot or so shy of the nook in the
cave wall. Disoriented, Scully did not put up too much of a struggle, thank
goodness. Mulder grabbed her around the waist and rolled them over until he felt
his shoulder strike wall. Unfortunately, it was his bad shoulder, and the abrupt
impact sent a sharp pang shooting through his arm and chest. Refusing to let go,
he tried his best to ignore the pain and pulled her against him in their
makeshift cubby hole. He wrapped himself around her tightly, shielding her body
with his own as the cave crashed down around them.
All he could do then was wait--and pray that it would all be over soon, and that
they would survive the cave-in.
He was oddly comforted by the fact that if this was to be their time--if they
were to die here now, buried alive beneath tons of lava rock--at least they
would die together. That seemed somehow fitting. His only regret was that they
were not on the best of terms, that Scully was unaware of his true feelings for
her. He vowed to himself at that moment that if they were to make it out of this
alive, he would make sure she knew how much she meant to him.
For a while, it seemed as though the torrent of falling rock would never end;
but eventually the shaking ceased and the rumbling quieted. Soon the only sound
was of the two partners breathing heavily as they clung to one another in the
darkness.
"You okay, Scully?" Mulder whispered. One hand rested on her shoulder, and the
other moved to cup her cheek.
He not so much saw as felt her nod against him. "I- I think so." It was then
that he realized that she was, for all intents and purposes, sitting in his lap.
That idea evidently made her uncomfortable, because she started to pull back--
not that there was really any place to go in the tiny alcove. To help put her at
ease, Mulder reluctantly released his hold on her. It was the first time he had
touched her in weeks, and even under the extenuating circumstances he was less
than eager to break contact.
In their close quarters, he felt her shift against him, trying to readjust her
position. For the briefest of moments, he felt something soft brush against his
arm; it did not take him long to figure out it was her breast that had touched
him as she arched her back. The mental picture of Scully arching her back--not
to mention the sensation of her contact as she squirmed against him--made his
body thrum with desire.
He was trying to find the voice to ask her what she was doing when her intention
became clear. She must have been reaching into her pocket for a flashlight,
because a moment later, a small beam of light struck Mulder in the eyes,
blinding him.
Instinctively, he jerked his head back--and banged it on a tiny outcropping of
rock behind him. Which then made his jaw bang shut with a loud, painful crack.
"Jesus, Scully! Watch where you're pointing that thing!" he muttered, trying to
shield his eyes.
"I could say the same," she replied disgustedly, pushing back from him and
struggling to extricate herself from their small hideaway.
"Yeah, well, you missed your calling as a lap dancer, Scully," he retorted.
"You'd make a hell of a lot more doing that than you ever could on a government
salary."
"Well, you'd certainly know, wouldn't you?" she shot back.
Hoo boy! Thoughts of spending eternity in her arms and confessing his undying
love for her fell by the wayside. Right now, Mulder had to fight the urge to
wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze until her eyes popped out of their
sockets.
"I'd suggest you keep your voice down to a low rumble," he reprimanded. "That
is, unless you want to bring the rest of the house down on top of us."
"It was a cave-in, Mulder, not an avalanche. Shouting won't make a damned bit of
difference."
"Oh, so now you're an expert spelunker?"
This time, she either did not hear him, or chose to ignore him. She was far
enough away at this point that all he could see was the small beam of light on
the ground several feet away. *Great. I have a feeling that a few hours from
now I'm going to wish the cave-in had done me in.*
Reaching into his small satchel, Mulder retrieved his own flashlight. *Don't
leave home without it,* he thought bitterly. Not as powerful as the halogens
they had been using, but it would have to do.
He did a slow three-sixty to observe their immediate surroundings. The meager
beam bounced off of the rough surface of the cave walls, creating strangely-
shaped shadows. As he slowly panned around, he saw that the tunnel they had been
trying to reach in order to return to the cave entrance was now completely
blocked. So much for an easy exit. But further to the right, there had been
another passageway. One which Uncle Stu must have dismissed simply because it
was further. . . .
"Oh shit! Uncle Stu!" Mulder was suddenly assailed with guilt. So blinded was he
by anger toward Scully that thoughts of their injured guide had not even entered
his mind until now. Poor Stu was probably lying there somewhere, needing their
help. "Scully, we've got to find Stu!"
"I think I just did," she called from several feet away. There was a dejected
tone to her voice.
"What? Where?" Mulder approached her with a mixture of caution and urgency. As
he came up beside her, his eyes and flashlight followed the path of her own
beam. "How bad--?" His voice came up short as he caught sight of the old man--or
at least what remained of him.
From beneath a large boulder they could make out one of Stu's wrinkled hands,
fingers frozen in a claw-like stance, a trickle of blood smeared across the
pale, liver-spotted flesh. His arm just above the wrist had been crushed beneath
a large rock. As, apparently, had been the case for the rest of his body.
"Ah, shit," Mulder muttered. "Poor old geezer."
Scully stared down at the hand, her face a blank slate. "The rock I saw hit him
looked to have knocked him unconscious. After that, he probably didn't feel a
thing. Even so, a crushing blow to the head would probably kill almost
instantaneously."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better, Scully?"
"What do you want me to say, Mulder? He's dead. There's not much I can do about
it."
"We asked the guy to show us around the caves to gather evidence for this case.
It wasn't supposed to be dangerous. He wasn't supposed to die. . . ."
"Correction, Mulder," she said, looking up at him, eyes cold as ice. "*You*
asked Stu to show us around these caves. *You* were the one who felt that there
was something else to find here. Like Stu, I'm just along for the ride. And that
could just as easily have been me or you lying there." She looked back down at
Stu's body. When she spoke again, her voice, barely more than a whisper, was
thick with emotion. "I hope whatever it is you're looking for is worth it."
"Scully, you can't honestly blame me for what happened here? You can't think I
wanted something like this to happen?"
"I don't know what to think anymore, Mulder."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What that means, Mulder, is that lately it seems that the only person whose
feelings you've been considering are your own. I feel like I don't know you
anymore. And, quite frankly, I don't know if I want to."
Her words ripped through his heart like a white-hot blade. He knew after their
confrontation in his apartment that Scully was upset with him for ditching her.
He thought he had explained that the delicateness of the investigation
necessitated his having to leave town without contacting her. Even after nearly
two weeks of contemplation, he had yet to figure out where she had come up with
the notion that he did not respect or appreciate her.
He knew that they had some issues that they needed to work through. And while a
small part of him feared that Scully might try to break away, he assumed that
they would get through this kink in their relationship as they usually did.
Never once did he honestly believe that she would choose simply to give up on
him and walk away.
How could she believe that he did not care about her feelings? Surely his
actions--his words--spoke volumes for how he felt about her. Had he not been
there for her, supporting her, as both a partner and friend whenever she needed
him?
When her dad died, and she feared that she had never gained the approval she so
strongly coveted, he helped comfort her and assuage her doubt.
When she was abducted, he never lost faith that she was out there, somewhere.
When she was returned, he fought her family and Scully's own living will, so
strong was his faith that she was fighting to come back to them. Hell, he had
given up any chance at vengeance to sit at her bedside during what they all
thought would be her last night on earth, simply so that she would know that he
was there.
When her sister was killed, he did not hesitate in putting Scully's emotional
needs over the crucial case they were investigating. And when she decided that
the best way for her to get through her grief was to continue to work, he
respected her wishes and offered her his support.
When she was diagnosed with cancer, he dropped everything to be there for her.
He moved heaven and earth to try to find the answers as to the cause of her
illness--and later for the cure. Even his life's quest of trying to find the
truth about his sister's abduction paled in comparison to his need to save
Scully.
When she contacted him with the improbable news that she had discovered a
daughter who had been created without her knowledge or consent--a pixie-faced
little girl named Emily who was very sick and caught in the middle of one of
Their inhuman experiments--he knew that the only place for him was by Scully's
side. He aided her the best he could in her attempts to obtain legal custody of
Emily. And when it became apparent that the girl was not long for this world, he
offered Scully whatever support she needed. Even when she pushed him away, when
she erected her usual emotional barriers, he respected her need to deal with
things on her own--but still made it perfectly clear that he was there for her
when she was ready to talk about it.
Time and again, he had been there for her whenever she needed him. And if Scully
did not recognize the strength of his devotion, of his loyalty, of his love for
her, then perhaps it was for the best that things end between them. After all,
there were only so many times you could bang your head against a brick wall
before either bashing your brains in or walking away. Although either way you
would still have a whopper of a headache. . . .
His musings were cut short when he realized that Scully was kneeling down,
bracing her flashlight beneath her arm.
"What are you doing?" he asked her.
"I'm trying to get him out of there," she said, reaching for a rock.
"Forget it, Scully. You see the size of some of those boulders? We'll never be
able to budge them. And if we upset the balance of the whole thing, we'll be
joining Stu under there."
"But we can't just leave him here. . . ."
"Have you got a better idea? Besides, even if we were to get him out, what are
we gonna do with the body? Were you planning on carrying it around while we look
for a way out?"
She paused, and slowly rose to her feet as the logic of what he was saying began
to sink in. Nonetheless, she still did not seem too happy about the decision.
"It just doesn't seem right . . . leaving him here like this. . .." She gazed
down at Stu's rocky grave, blinking.
"He loved these caves, Scully, and all the legends surrounding them. It's how he
would have wanted it." Mulder placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
He expected her to shrug it away, but she did not react at all to the gesture.
Slowly, she nodded. "I- I guess you're right. I just feel so badly. He was such
a sweet old man."
"A bawdy ole fart is more like it. He made Frohike look like a schoolboy."
She grinned. "Which is probably why you liked him so much."
"I think it's you he had the soft spot for. What is it with you and dirty old
men, Scully?"
"I suggest you ask yourself the same question in a few years, Mulder," she
replied, though her tone was light. "Good-bye, Uncle Stu. May you rest in
peace."
"May the spirit of the cave's Kahuna watch over you," Mulder added.
After several long moments of silence, Scully spoke. "You ready to try to find a
way out of here?"
It still amazed him how she was able to turn her emotions on and off so easily--
as though she had a switch to control them. "Yeah, let's blow this joint."
He followed Scully to where she stood carefully peering over the edge of the
incline they had traversed. "Well, I don't think we'll be going back the way we
came," she remarked matter-of-factly. With the combined luminescence of both of
their flashlights, they were able to discern that much of the facade had
collapsed, leaving precious few hand- or footholds intact. "Our best bet is
probably to try to continue the way we were headed."
"Yeah, except the way we were headed has since been occupied by Uncle Stu and
several tons of igneous rock," Mulder pointed out.
"Wasn't there another tunnel around here somewhere?" Scully began to slowly pan
the walls with her flashlight.
"Over there, I think," Mulder said, directing his own beam to a far corner. Sure
enough, when they moved closer, they could make out a small opening in the rock
pile. It looked to be about a foot-and-a-half wide and slightly less in height.
"Eureka."
"That's going to be an awfully tight fit," Scully said, eying the nook warily.
"And I suppose you've got a better idea?"
She pursed her lips in annoyance. "All right. I'll go first. Give me a boost,
will you?" she asked.
"One boost, coming right up." Bending his knees until he was in a crouch, Mulder
interlaced his fingers and nodded to Scully.
Holding onto his shoulders to steady herself, she stepped into the make-shift
stirrups. "On three? One . . . two . . . three!"
"You've . . . erg . . .been having . . . mph . . . more of those .. . oomph . .
. tofutti rice dreamsicles again . . . hmph . . . huh, Scully?" Mulder asked,
grunting and groaning, as he lifted her upwards.
"Shut up, Mulder," she replied as she grabbed onto the edge of the hole and
hoisted herself towards it.
"Make sure you get a good look before you let go," Mulder warned her. "Could be
a doosey of a first step."
"I've got that covered," she said, already pointing her flashlight through the
hole.
"Can you make anything out?"
"I can see ground about six feet below," she called back, her voice somewhat
muffled as she stuck her head through the opening.
"Does the tunnel lead through?"
"Hard to tell," she replied. "This flashlight doesn't have much reach. It looks
like there's an open passageway. But I'll have to get closer to be sure." She
started to pull her torso through the hole.
"Be careful, Scully. Don't go taking a nose dive onto the cave floor." If she
responded, Mulder did not hear her. Shining his flashlight upwards in her
direction, all he could see was the retreating form of her lower half.
To some, it may have looked as though Scully were being swallowed by a giant
prehistoric creature that had been residing in these rocky depths for eons. To
others it might appear that she were disappearing through a black hole, passing
into some other dimension. But not to Fox Mulder. Despite his proclivity for
catering to such theories, metaphysical thoughts never crossed his mind as he
watched his partner disappear.
Rather, he just stood there admiring the view. After all, it was not every day
he got to watch her little ass wiggle in her snug jeans as she tried to squeeze
through a gap in a cave wall.
End Chapter 3
*****