Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 07/17
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 7
"Is it me, or does this passageway look familiar?" Scully wondered aloud. It was
the first time she had addressed Mulder directly since they left the underground
lake nearly four hours earlier.
Mulder swung the flashlight up in a sweeping arc to examine the walls more
closely. "I don't know, Scully," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You've seen
one cave, you've seen 'em all." As he moved the track of the beam back to the
main path, it seemed to decrease in intensity.
"I mean it, Mulder. I'm nearly positive we've been down this tunnel before," she
insisted.
"How the hell can you tell?"
"I recognize this unusual rock formation. Shine the light over this way," she
said, pointing to the far wall.
"Don't tell me you're seeing patterns in the piles of bat guano. Though that
mound over there does look like a mini version of Jabba the Hutt." As he moved
the flashlight, the beam faded almost completely, but then came back on. Mulder
whacked the lamp with the side of his hand.
"We just took a right about twenty minutes back at an unusually large stalagmite
with a kidney-shaped indentation in its side," Scully explained. "I remember
seeing the same mark in a similar rock nearly two hours ago. The only logical
explanation is that it's the same rock."
"'Only logical explanation' my ass! What are you, Mr. Spock now?"
"Mulder, I'm telling you it's the same damned rock."
"How the hell can it be the same rock? We've been down here for hours. Your eyes
are probably playing tricks on you."
"My eyes are just fine. It's yours that are the problem, because you've
obviously been leading us in circles ever since we left the lake."
"I still say you're wrong, Scully. We haven't been down this way before."
"Oh? Then why does that look like our boot prints up ahead?" she asked, crossing
her arms and gesturing with her head.
"Where?" he asked, taking a step forward and pointing the flashlight toward the
ground where she had indicated. As he did so, the beam winked out altogether,
leaving them in total darkness. "Oooh, shit!"
If Scully had not been so aggravated, she might actually have been impressed by
how genuinely distressed her partner sounded. Right now, though, she had
absolutely no patience for his practical jokes and his irritating sense of
humor. "Cut the crap, Mulder. God, you'll do anything to shirk responsibility
for our being lost, won't you? Turn the flashlight back on."
"I didn't shut it off, Scully. It went off on its own." He shook the flashlight,
then fiddled with the switch, turning it off and on several times. Nothing made
the beam come back on.
"Goddammit, Mulder, I'm not in the mood for your stupid games!"
"I'm not kidding around, Scully. I think the battery just died."
"How can the battery have run out? They're supposed to last a hell of a lot
longer than half a day. Give it to me."
"Knock yourself out, Scully," Mulder replied, handing it to her.
Muttering to herself, she tried the switch herself. "I don't suppose you have
any spare batteries in your bag?"
"Nope."
Scully proceeded to unscrew the compartment that held the batteries. She popped
them out and then back in again, and then refastened the plastic plate, all to
no avail. The flashlight still would not work.
"See, Scully? It's not my faul--whoa!" He threw himself backwards, barely
avoiding having his face bashed in.
In a fit of rage, she swung the flashlight, smashing it against the cave wall.
"Fucking piece of crap!" Just as quickly as her temper flared, her outbreak of
anger was over.
"Oh, that was real mature, Scully. Destroy our only remaining flashlight."
"It's useless, Mulder. It's not like we're going to come across any new
batteries down here. They don't grow wild, and there aren't any Seven-Elevens
around."
"Just as long as you watch where you swing that thing," Mulder warned her.
"I can't see my own hands in front of my face, Mulder, let alone you."
"Well, I think I might have a means of putting some light on the situation," he
said as he removed his satchel from his back and opened the zipper to the main
compartment.
Scully waited as he searched, but when he did not quickly produce whatever it
was he was looking for, she soon grew impatient. "Well?" she asked, folding her
arms across her chest.
"Goddammit! . . . I know I packed some waterproof matches in here somewhere,"
Mulder muttered, rummaging blindly through his backpack.
"You couldn't find your way out of a paper bag," Scully grumbled.
"I'm wounded, Scully. Need I remind you which FBI agent fell into a pile of bat
guano and ruined her professional demeanor?"
"I wouldn't have fallen into the damned guano if you hadn't distracted me."
The cave rumbled--a low, distant throbbing under their feet.
"I thought you were above that, Scully. Really, using distractions as an
excuse." He tried to put a light teasing tone into his words but Scully only
seemed to notice that he was criticizing her again.
"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about, Mulder. Is everything a goddamned
game for you? Perhaps if you took our situation seriously, we'd be out of here
by now. I never should have let you direct our course. Now, will you give me the
goddamned matches and the compass so I can get us the hell out of here?"
"Compass? Uhm . . . what compass?"
"What do you mean, what compass? The one you've been using to direct us toward
the entrance."
"Scully, you took the compass from me, hours ago. You never gave it back."
It was only then that Scully remembered pocketing the compass after checking
their course earlier that afternoon. But that had been shortly after the cave-
in. She was sure she no longer had it in her possession. She quickly searched
her pockets, but the instrument was nowhere to be found. It must have fallen out
when she fell into the guano. But if she did not have it, and Mulder did not
have it, that meant they had been walking blindly in the dark.
Scully felt her heart sink. Surely, it was impossible for her partner to have
acted so foolishly, so recklessly. Not even Mulder could behave that stupidly.
*Who am I kidding? This is Fox Mulder I'm talking about. Irresponsible is his
middle name.*
They had been wandering around in circles for the past four hours because her
partner had no idea what direction they had been headed. Just like a man!
It should be impossible, but Mulder thought he could detect a blacker than black
cloud in Scully's wake.
Taking a deep breath, Scully tried to hold in her anger. "Mulder, do you mean to
tell me that you've been attempting to guide us through these tunnels without
the aid of a compass?"
"Scully, I've been using my finely honed male instincts."
"But, Mulder, there's no one around for you not to ask for directions. And you
call yourself an Indian Guide!"
Mulder thought aloud, "If only I'd taken those steroids in college, my male
instincts would be animal keen now . . . I could follow the scent of fresh air.
Hmm, I wonder what could be blocking the trail?" He sniffed the air, moving ever
closer to his partner. "Oh, yes, there's that over-powering stench of bat
turds."
"Fuck off, Mulder! You got us into this mess, but you're obviously not planning
to do anything to rectify the situation."
"Well, I could always call on the help of a certain Hawaiian priestess. Excuse
me a moment, Scully, while I have a little chat with my native friend here. . .
." She could barely make out his silhouette as he moved to one side of the
narrow path.
"Mulder, if you want to attempt to summon an angry cave Kahuna, knock yourself
out. Just give me the matches, and I'll be on my way."
Mulder ignored her, however, as he lowered himself into a kneeling position. "O
great Kahuna, O mighty Meleahana, I summon you now to ask for your help," Mulder
called loudly, throwing up his arms in supplication.
"That's it! I've had enough of your ridiculous performance. Mulder, give me the
goddammed matches!" she growled, reaching for the backpack.
She nearly pulled him off-balance and face-first into the dust as she lunged for
the satchel. Unwilling to give in, Mulder held tight to his knapsack as he rose
unsteadily to his feet. A minor tug of war ensued and in the midst of the
fracas, neither agent noticed the ground was soft and crumbling under their
feet.
"Mulder, for once in your life act your age. Give me the fucking matches--NOW!"
In a fit of anger, Scully yanked the satchel--and yanked hard. Too hard. The
force of her movement sent both partners stumbling. Before they could even
register what was happening, the ground gave way beneath them, and they started
to fall downwards through a hidden sinkhole. But instead of hitting solid ground
seconds later, to their surprise they kept falling--plunging for what felt like
an eternity toward the cold, dark unknown that lay below.
*****
Accompanied by a rain of falling rock, wet mud, and the distinct aroma of fresh
bat guano, the duo landed with a bone-jarring thump. For several long moments,
all was silent in the cave as both agents remained still.
Eventually, Scully moved slightly, moaning, and then fell silent again as more
mud fell on top of her and Mulder, whose bodies lay entangled together in a
loverlike clasp.
When the sky seemed to finally stop falling, she cautiously shifted herself
again--this time eliciting a weary groan from her partner.
"You better not be dead, Mulder. Because the moment we get out of here, I'm
going to kill you myself."
"Well, I'd hate to deprive you of the pleasure, Scully."
"I still can't believe you dragged me into this damned cave. It's bad enough we
got trapped inside and you led us around in circles for hours. And that's to say
nothing of your trying to drown me, and now this!"
"Hey, you're the one who pulled me into a pile of bat shit. . . ."
"I did *not* pull you."
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Too!"
"Not!"
A slight movement to the right caught Mulder's attention. "Uh, Scully. . . ."
"The least you could do is get the hell off of me, Mulder."
"Uhm, Scully. . . ."
"I mean it Mulder. You're no spring chicken here. Your elbow is in my ribs."
"Did you hear something?"
And with the temperamental perversity of objects that only work when they want
to, the flashlight came back on . . . its weak light illuminating a rugged wall
and the shadows of four looming figures.
Scully followed Mulder's gaze to the four pairs of feet encased in heavy, steel
reinforced boots. She then looked up to see four men, who, dressed uniformly in
black, seemed to blend into the infinite darkness of the caves. Her gaze
lingered, then, on the businesslike muzzles of the four HK MP5 sub-machine guns
that were pointed in their faces.
End Chapter 7
*****
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 7
"Is it me, or does this passageway look familiar?" Scully wondered aloud. It was
the first time she had addressed Mulder directly since they left the underground
lake nearly four hours earlier.
Mulder swung the flashlight up in a sweeping arc to examine the walls more
closely. "I don't know, Scully," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You've seen
one cave, you've seen 'em all." As he moved the track of the beam back to the
main path, it seemed to decrease in intensity.
"I mean it, Mulder. I'm nearly positive we've been down this tunnel before," she
insisted.
"How the hell can you tell?"
"I recognize this unusual rock formation. Shine the light over this way," she
said, pointing to the far wall.
"Don't tell me you're seeing patterns in the piles of bat guano. Though that
mound over there does look like a mini version of Jabba the Hutt." As he moved
the flashlight, the beam faded almost completely, but then came back on. Mulder
whacked the lamp with the side of his hand.
"We just took a right about twenty minutes back at an unusually large stalagmite
with a kidney-shaped indentation in its side," Scully explained. "I remember
seeing the same mark in a similar rock nearly two hours ago. The only logical
explanation is that it's the same rock."
"'Only logical explanation' my ass! What are you, Mr. Spock now?"
"Mulder, I'm telling you it's the same damned rock."
"How the hell can it be the same rock? We've been down here for hours. Your eyes
are probably playing tricks on you."
"My eyes are just fine. It's yours that are the problem, because you've
obviously been leading us in circles ever since we left the lake."
"I still say you're wrong, Scully. We haven't been down this way before."
"Oh? Then why does that look like our boot prints up ahead?" she asked, crossing
her arms and gesturing with her head.
"Where?" he asked, taking a step forward and pointing the flashlight toward the
ground where she had indicated. As he did so, the beam winked out altogether,
leaving them in total darkness. "Oooh, shit!"
If Scully had not been so aggravated, she might actually have been impressed by
how genuinely distressed her partner sounded. Right now, though, she had
absolutely no patience for his practical jokes and his irritating sense of
humor. "Cut the crap, Mulder. God, you'll do anything to shirk responsibility
for our being lost, won't you? Turn the flashlight back on."
"I didn't shut it off, Scully. It went off on its own." He shook the flashlight,
then fiddled with the switch, turning it off and on several times. Nothing made
the beam come back on.
"Goddammit, Mulder, I'm not in the mood for your stupid games!"
"I'm not kidding around, Scully. I think the battery just died."
"How can the battery have run out? They're supposed to last a hell of a lot
longer than half a day. Give it to me."
"Knock yourself out, Scully," Mulder replied, handing it to her.
Muttering to herself, she tried the switch herself. "I don't suppose you have
any spare batteries in your bag?"
"Nope."
Scully proceeded to unscrew the compartment that held the batteries. She popped
them out and then back in again, and then refastened the plastic plate, all to
no avail. The flashlight still would not work.
"See, Scully? It's not my faul--whoa!" He threw himself backwards, barely
avoiding having his face bashed in.
In a fit of rage, she swung the flashlight, smashing it against the cave wall.
"Fucking piece of crap!" Just as quickly as her temper flared, her outbreak of
anger was over.
"Oh, that was real mature, Scully. Destroy our only remaining flashlight."
"It's useless, Mulder. It's not like we're going to come across any new
batteries down here. They don't grow wild, and there aren't any Seven-Elevens
around."
"Just as long as you watch where you swing that thing," Mulder warned her.
"I can't see my own hands in front of my face, Mulder, let alone you."
"Well, I think I might have a means of putting some light on the situation," he
said as he removed his satchel from his back and opened the zipper to the main
compartment.
Scully waited as he searched, but when he did not quickly produce whatever it
was he was looking for, she soon grew impatient. "Well?" she asked, folding her
arms across her chest.
"Goddammit! . . . I know I packed some waterproof matches in here somewhere,"
Mulder muttered, rummaging blindly through his backpack.
"You couldn't find your way out of a paper bag," Scully grumbled.
"I'm wounded, Scully. Need I remind you which FBI agent fell into a pile of bat
guano and ruined her professional demeanor?"
"I wouldn't have fallen into the damned guano if you hadn't distracted me."
The cave rumbled--a low, distant throbbing under their feet.
"I thought you were above that, Scully. Really, using distractions as an
excuse." He tried to put a light teasing tone into his words but Scully only
seemed to notice that he was criticizing her again.
"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about, Mulder. Is everything a goddamned
game for you? Perhaps if you took our situation seriously, we'd be out of here
by now. I never should have let you direct our course. Now, will you give me the
goddamned matches and the compass so I can get us the hell out of here?"
"Compass? Uhm . . . what compass?"
"What do you mean, what compass? The one you've been using to direct us toward
the entrance."
"Scully, you took the compass from me, hours ago. You never gave it back."
It was only then that Scully remembered pocketing the compass after checking
their course earlier that afternoon. But that had been shortly after the cave-
in. She was sure she no longer had it in her possession. She quickly searched
her pockets, but the instrument was nowhere to be found. It must have fallen out
when she fell into the guano. But if she did not have it, and Mulder did not
have it, that meant they had been walking blindly in the dark.
Scully felt her heart sink. Surely, it was impossible for her partner to have
acted so foolishly, so recklessly. Not even Mulder could behave that stupidly.
*Who am I kidding? This is Fox Mulder I'm talking about. Irresponsible is his
middle name.*
They had been wandering around in circles for the past four hours because her
partner had no idea what direction they had been headed. Just like a man!
It should be impossible, but Mulder thought he could detect a blacker than black
cloud in Scully's wake.
Taking a deep breath, Scully tried to hold in her anger. "Mulder, do you mean to
tell me that you've been attempting to guide us through these tunnels without
the aid of a compass?"
"Scully, I've been using my finely honed male instincts."
"But, Mulder, there's no one around for you not to ask for directions. And you
call yourself an Indian Guide!"
Mulder thought aloud, "If only I'd taken those steroids in college, my male
instincts would be animal keen now . . . I could follow the scent of fresh air.
Hmm, I wonder what could be blocking the trail?" He sniffed the air, moving ever
closer to his partner. "Oh, yes, there's that over-powering stench of bat
turds."
"Fuck off, Mulder! You got us into this mess, but you're obviously not planning
to do anything to rectify the situation."
"Well, I could always call on the help of a certain Hawaiian priestess. Excuse
me a moment, Scully, while I have a little chat with my native friend here. . .
." She could barely make out his silhouette as he moved to one side of the
narrow path.
"Mulder, if you want to attempt to summon an angry cave Kahuna, knock yourself
out. Just give me the matches, and I'll be on my way."
Mulder ignored her, however, as he lowered himself into a kneeling position. "O
great Kahuna, O mighty Meleahana, I summon you now to ask for your help," Mulder
called loudly, throwing up his arms in supplication.
"That's it! I've had enough of your ridiculous performance. Mulder, give me the
goddammed matches!" she growled, reaching for the backpack.
She nearly pulled him off-balance and face-first into the dust as she lunged for
the satchel. Unwilling to give in, Mulder held tight to his knapsack as he rose
unsteadily to his feet. A minor tug of war ensued and in the midst of the
fracas, neither agent noticed the ground was soft and crumbling under their
feet.
"Mulder, for once in your life act your age. Give me the fucking matches--NOW!"
In a fit of anger, Scully yanked the satchel--and yanked hard. Too hard. The
force of her movement sent both partners stumbling. Before they could even
register what was happening, the ground gave way beneath them, and they started
to fall downwards through a hidden sinkhole. But instead of hitting solid ground
seconds later, to their surprise they kept falling--plunging for what felt like
an eternity toward the cold, dark unknown that lay below.
*****
Accompanied by a rain of falling rock, wet mud, and the distinct aroma of fresh
bat guano, the duo landed with a bone-jarring thump. For several long moments,
all was silent in the cave as both agents remained still.
Eventually, Scully moved slightly, moaning, and then fell silent again as more
mud fell on top of her and Mulder, whose bodies lay entangled together in a
loverlike clasp.
When the sky seemed to finally stop falling, she cautiously shifted herself
again--this time eliciting a weary groan from her partner.
"You better not be dead, Mulder. Because the moment we get out of here, I'm
going to kill you myself."
"Well, I'd hate to deprive you of the pleasure, Scully."
"I still can't believe you dragged me into this damned cave. It's bad enough we
got trapped inside and you led us around in circles for hours. And that's to say
nothing of your trying to drown me, and now this!"
"Hey, you're the one who pulled me into a pile of bat shit. . . ."
"I did *not* pull you."
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Too!"
"Not!"
A slight movement to the right caught Mulder's attention. "Uh, Scully. . . ."
"The least you could do is get the hell off of me, Mulder."
"Uhm, Scully. . . ."
"I mean it Mulder. You're no spring chicken here. Your elbow is in my ribs."
"Did you hear something?"
And with the temperamental perversity of objects that only work when they want
to, the flashlight came back on . . . its weak light illuminating a rugged wall
and the shadows of four looming figures.
Scully followed Mulder's gaze to the four pairs of feet encased in heavy, steel
reinforced boots. She then looked up to see four men, who, dressed uniformly in
black, seemed to blend into the infinite darkness of the caves. Her gaze
lingered, then, on the businesslike muzzles of the four HK MP5 sub-machine guns
that were pointed in their faces.
End Chapter 7
*****