Texas is one of my least favourite places to go on cases. It's always hot and humid as hell! I sweat, my hair frizzes and I'm always notably more grumpy in this state. Mulder's driving the rental car as I go through all of the file again.
"Each soldier died in these mysterious ways, all in their homes," I say as the dry landscape outside of the car window begins to grate on my nerves. "No signs of any intruders, any accidents."
"It's like their bodies have been targeted from within," He says, turning into a long driveway that leads to some imposing iron gates that can only lead to the army base.
"But that's impossible, Mulder," I tap the file on my lap and watch as a soldier checks Mulder's ID. I flash mine to and he permits us entry.
"We're to meet a Colonel Stripe who has been trying to piece together this strangeness since the first killing last summer. There has been a death every two months or so."
"What do you think it is?" I ask, knowing my partner so well. "Witchcraft? voodoo? Spiritual intervention?"
He turns and grins at me boyishly as he puts the car in park.
"This is why we are good together, Scully." I cut him a warning glance and he grins only wider. "Work wise." He adds and I nod, my serious work head firmly in place as we exit the car.
The colonel meets us in an airy atrium that thankfully is chilled by air conditioning as the sun streams through overhead. He's tall, receded hairline and watery grey eyes with a strong jawline that is used to issuing commands.
"Agents Mulder and Scully?" He asks, proffering a hand to each of us. "Thanks for coming down here. It's something we would normally handle internally but we are at a loss to what is happening here. Assistant director Skinner tells me you are used to phenomena such as this?" His bushy eyebrow, the reminiscence of a man with thick, luxurious dark hair quirks in a question mark.
"Well, Sir," I begin, glancing at my partner. "We do investigate but there may still be explanation to be had scientifically here." Mulder cuts me a look of chagrin and I can hear his voice in my head, "Yeah, OK, you explain this one, Scully." Working with someone for six years, you get to know their idiosyncrasies in-depth.
"You are the medical doctor, then? Well, Agent Scully, if you can find an explanation for these men, I'd be greatly appreciative." He leads us to an office with all the case notes he and his team have collected so far. Mulder and I take up residency in this office and begin sifting through documents, photos and statements from friends and family.
"Scully?" Mulder calls to me halfway through the bright afternoon. "The dates of these murders seem to have somewhat of a Pagan pattern."
"Oh, yeah?" I look up at him.
"Any indication of marks on the body to warrant ceremonial killings?" he asks.
"Not so far. I'm going to look at the latest victim in an hour with the ME. What pattern have you seen so far?"
"Well, the first death we know of was on Angst first. That was Lammas, a pagan festival. There are eight Sabats in the Pagan calendar, Lamas, Mabon, Samhain, Yule, Imbalc, Ostara, Beltane and Litha, the summer solstice. The fact these begin on lamas, and not one of the equinox or solstice is strange. Which either tells me there was another death before or there's some other reason." The look of concentration on his face, that small crease between his eyebrows is so familiar to me in this setting but I marvel at how attractive he is even now, up to our necks in death and intrigue.
"What's the significance of Lamas?" I ask, knowing the way to draw on the threads of his thoughts. Flipping a page to the photographs of the crime scenes I look closer at each chalk outline of the victims.
"It's the first of the three harvest festivals. The first that the Holly King is meant to rule over the world."
"The Holly King?" I look up and watch his eyes as they are distantly recounting information in his brilliant mind.
"Yeah, give me a minute," He pulls out his cellphone and dials someone on speed dial. "Hey, Danny. You good man? Excellent. Yeah… Can you get me a number of an Agent who I feel works in the New Orleans field office who has a background in satanic ritual. I can't remember the name. It's a female agent." I look over at him and he hangs up.
"Who is this?" I ask curiously.
"I've read a few cross reports from an agent working in Louisiana who has a background in the occult. I think she may have some insight." I nod and stand, walking to the projector and inserting the slides I've just assembled.
"Mulder, look at this. You may be right. This looks ceremonial. Look at the chalk? That doesn't look right, does it?" He looks closely and shakes his head as his phone rings.
"Hi, Danny. Thanks…" he waits as a call is connected. "Hi, agent Reyes. My name is Fox Mulder, I work on the X-files. I think we may need your expertise on this case we have in Texas… great, we'll see you later."
"Scully, I'm going to check out the last crime scene as it was closed up from Halloween. We have three weeks until the winter Solstice. If I'm right, three weeks before another target is made. You let me know your findings on the latest body." He picks up his car keys and heads out. I switch off the projector and get ready to meet with the medical examiner.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I rub my eyes as I step back into the cool relief of the motel room. The crime scene indeed had the strangeness of the chalk that Scully had noted. It also had a distinct smell of frankincense. Sitting at the desk, jotting down my findings, I hear a knock at the door.
Standing and stretching, I rub my face self consciously where the stubble is now creeping back in. I see a woman through the glass but it is not my partner.
"Hi," she smiles, fidgeting with a bracelet on her wrist. "Agent Mulder? Monica Reyes." She holds out her hand and I shake it.
"Come on in," I smile at this agent who hopefully will help us break this case. "Thanks for coming out."
"Not a problem," She sits at my invitation on the couch and I head to the file to hand to her.
"These certainly look ritualistic," She says after a few moments.
"There was a distinct smell of frankincense at the crime scene I went to today. Although nothing was noted in previous scenes."
"It was probably missed. Frankincense is a smell people would potentially have in their homes. Incense sticks often have that scent."
"But isn't it used more in witchcraft?" I ask, watching this woman with intrigue. She was assured with the evidence and seemingly unshockable.
"Yes, it's used in divination, the calling of spirits. Weakens use it a lot in magical ceremonies."
"Have you ever scene a case where a spirit is the perpetrator?" I ask, raising my eyebrows to show I am serious. But Monica Reyes looks me dead in the eye and smiles.
"Yes! Although proving it is always another matter. I worked a case a few years ago where six victims, all very similar to these cases where apparent causes of death were recorded but no external evidence was present. We traced it to a former employee of the firm where all victims had incurred this woman's wrath. She used voodoo dolls to inflict the injuries. Burning, gunshots and drowning."
"I don't think this is voodoo. The dates seem relevant. Lammas, Mabon and Samhain."
"Pagan Sabats?" Monica smiles gently.
"Yes. And isn't there a similar scenario within witchcraft to inflict via a spirit, like voodoo?"
"Yes. Poppets. A human form made usually of cloth stuffed with twigs, leaves and herbs which can contain a spell, sometimes of protection but I have read of cases where black magic has been used to." A knock brings us out of our discussion and I head to find Scully standing at the other side of the glass. She looks tired but still so beautiful.
"Hey," I smile, opening the door wide for her. "Dana Scully, Monica Reyes." I introduce the women who smile at each other cordially.
"What did you find?" I ask as Scully takes a seat on the couch.
"He effectively drowned. Yet no outer signs of being immersed in water, just lungs full of fluid."
"Was there any markings on the body at all?" Monica asks and Scully looks at her quizzically.
"Yeah," She pulls out her folder and opens it to show a picture of the body. "I was telling agent Mulder earlier how the chalk lines looked odd at each of the crime scenes. They almost were smudged in a way that made them look like a pentagram. And when I dusted our victim for prints and DNA, I found some type of phosphorescence around the mouth and nose. I took at picture and look." She shows us a photo of the man's corpse with a vivid image of glowing letters that spelt the word sorry.
"Sorry?" Monica frowns and Scully nods. "That tells me the victim knew their killer."
"I think we need to find out why each of these men had an enemy."
Both women nod and Monica stands to leave.
"I'll see if there are any active covens in the area to," she nods to Scully. "Good to meet you both. I've read a lot of your work. Both of you." I nod and she heads to the door. Scully stays seated and a thrill in my chest wishes she and I could curl up together tonight but I know that's not going to happen.
"She seems to know her stuff," The smile on her face tells me she is n't threatened by Agent Reyes, nor should she be.
"Yeah, and hopefully we can prevent someone else from meeting the same fate."
She stands and places the file on top of the other case notes.
"Well, goodnight," She looks at me shyly for a second and I want her so badly.
"Goodnight," I touch her arm briefly, knowing it is as far as she'll want me to go. She nods and heads to the door.
How the hell are we going to keep this up? On assignment, days at a time with no intimacy? I sigh and start to prepare for bed.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The case was taking up a lot of our time but with cross referencing, and with the help from agent Reyes, we found the man who had the connections with all of our victims. By Wednesday evening, I was exhausted and glad we'd wrapped up the case. Our murderer ended up succumbing via a huge coronary and so he wouldn't be killing anyone again.
"It was great working with you, Agent Scully," Reyes smiles as we parted at the airport.
"You to," I genuinely enjoyed working with this smart woman. Even though, like with Mulder, our expertise differed.
"If you're ever in DC, look us up," Mulder shakes her hand and she nods, heading off for her plane.
"Ready?" I turn to him and see he's smiling down at me.
"I cannot wait to get home," The smouldering look he gives me makes me move closer to him and we share a further look.
The journey back is filled with tension and by the time we land in Washington, I just want to take him home and not leave my bed for days.
"I'll hail a cab," He tells me as we walk out of the main entrance. It's past ten pm and although I know I should probably get an early night, I smile at him more than happy for this night not to end.
A yellow cab pulls up outside the entrance and we get in.
"George town," He smiles over at me, almost fearful of my response but I take his hand and snuggle into his side. Agent Scully, the self assured, independent medical doctor has been taken over by dana Scully, irrevocably falling for this man.
"You hungry?" He asks, his green eyes lit with the passion we've both been hiding for the past few days.
"A little," I restrain from touching him any further until we're safely behind closed doors.
"Pizza?" he asks and I laugh.
"I honestly don't care," I feel wanton. And I like the feeling. It was like being released from a straight jacket, except I needed to keep my jacket firmly in place until we reached my apartment.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The cab ride to her apartment seems to be taking a millennia to get there. Her eyes, blue as the sky are pulling me under a spell. For a scientist, she is awfully bewitching I think to myself. The only parts of our body that are touching are our hands and that is not enough.
I press my leg closer to hers and feel the heat where our bodies are touching. The little gasp of shock and pleasure that erupts from her lips sends my insides to molten lava. I need her! I've needed her every day this week but we promised to keep our working relationship separate. But in this cab, between the lines of work and home, I feel my passion rising.
"I'm hungry," I whisper, so only she and I can hear. The electric look that passes between us tells me she knows the hunger I am feeling and pizza is forgotten.
I pay the cab driver and follow her into the elevator. I marvel at our restraint as we travel up to her door and she unlocks it with a ferocity I hope she's about to release on me.
Following her into the darkened living room, closing and locking the door behind me, I feel a force that knocks me back toward the closed door. I'm instantly panicked and wonder if I should pull my gun but the lips on mine, the hands exploring me from shoulders to chest to stomach are not of an assailant but of dana.
Dropping the luggage which I'm surprised is still in my hand, I wrap my arms around her tiny frame and drink her in.
"I have missed you!" I tell her in between kisses.
"Show me!" Something's changed in her tonight. The shy lover of the past few months has shed her skin and this vibrant, brilliant woman is pure sexual tension in my arms. The shyness between us is diminishing and the simmering attraction that has lain beneath the surface for so long has finally emerged into the light of our relationship.
"I love you," her kisses are hot and her body is burning with need.
"I love you, to! You incredible! Beautiful! Sexy woman!" I'm kissing her sweet, silken neck and she arcs her head back to allow me more to absorb.
"Mulder," her voice is taut. Her desperation palatable.
"Hmm?" I inquire as I thoroughly touch every inch of her pale skin with my lips.
"The bedroom!" I shake my head and know tonight she and I are going to make a mess of her pretty apartment and she is going to love every second of it!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I wake sated and languid on my bed. I don't remember getting here. What I do remember makes me blush with joy. The quilt is cocooning me into his chest and the steady rise and fall tells me he's still sleeping. My thighs ache, my breasts are still tender and I am the most satisfied I have ever been. The woman who escaped from that straight jacket of sensible and stoic last night was wild and free and not in the least sexually repressed. And he got me. He satisfied me in ways I had never knew I needed satisfying.
"Scully?" he murmurs into my hair in the predawn light.
"Yeah?" I smile, his warm arm tightening his hold around my waist.
"You okay?" A little of the shyness, of the self conscious Mulder, who is not certain on his place in accordance to me peeps through. I know it will take time for him to know exactly where he and I stand together… his previous relationships ensuring his lack of certainty with the opposite sex but I will ensure every day he knows he is with me and we are in this together as equals.
"I'm perfect. You?"
"I'm as happy as a pig in shit," he laughs and I join him, turning in his arms and kissing his chest lovingly.
"We probably smell like that after our extreme work out," I say as our lips meet in a lazy kiss.
"You smell perfect to me!" his lips are exploring again and I place a hand on his neck.
"You do realise we haven't eaten since lunch yesterday?"
"You're right," He stops and I laugh, sitting up, reaching for my robe. "What time is it anyway?" he trust to look at the digital alarm clock and grins.
"6 aM. What time are you due at your mom's?"
"2 but I may go around 1 to help out. You?" I walk toward the door as he pulls his T-shirt over his head and pulls on the pyjama bottoms from his overnight bag. I flick on the switch for the heating and wander to the kitchen.
"11. Mom has this need for me to watch every single football fixture over the course of Thanksgiving for some reason," He follows me and we slip into easy morning rituals. I watch him as he's brewing the coffee and marvel at the past few months. We're comfortable enough in each other's presence to enjoy every single moment now. And I'm deliriously happy.
"Well, I guess watching twenty-two athletic men kick around an air filled piece of cow hide just exudes masculinity," I joke and he smirks back at me as he whisks the eggs.
"You know me, Scully, always needing to exude masculinity." I laugh and he smiles warmly at me.
"Not strategic enough for your mind," I point out and his eyes dance with humour.
"So will you be watching the games?"
"No. Thankfully, as a member of the female sex, I'm permitted to join in the absolute homeliness of kitchen activities during the holidays. I get to cook and lay tables. Although, mom usually has some help so we just pretend we're doing kitchen tasks whilst my brothers enjoy the display of male dominance on the TV."
"Have I told you how much I hate the holidays?" He grins at me with a look of pure grit on his face.
"Because you're forced to watch sports and drink beer?" I question handing him a cup of coffee and moving to butter some toast.
"Partly. Socialising with my mother's friends is painful. See, you have siblings to share the torture with and their partners to commiserate with, I'm stuck with mom and her upper class friends whilst I'm parked in front of the Tv like some awkward teenager." I turn and smile at him and he shakes my head with a knowing look of what I'm about to say. "No, you don't get to tell me I am an awkward teenager. Not after last night." His look is smouldering and my stomach does that flip as it always does now when he makes innuendos.
"We're all considered awkward teenagers by our parents friends. Especially if they knew us growing up. That's the beauty of being a navy brat. My parents friends didn't know us growing up. And yeah, I do have Tara and Natalie, Charlie's girlfriend to talk to. And we have Mathew to distract us. Although, if Bill has his way, Mathew will be watching the game to. Just think though, depending what happens, neither of us will have to face our families alone next year."
"Or at all," He grins playfully and I carry the toast to the table. "Don't get me wrong," He sits and hands me the plate of eggs to serve myself. "I love my mom and we are all we have left now but my childhood wasn't as full as yours."
"Family isn't always about blood, Mulder," I lift a forkful of the perfectly fluffy eggs to my mouth and watch as the sadness covers him. "Family is about love. You don't have to be biologically related." I reach across the table and rest my hand on his. "I know it hasn't been long for us. Not in this level but you and I are still learning how much we care for each other. How much love can grow. And you are part of my family now."
He takes my hand and places a kiss on the back of it, unable to say anything but the gesture and the crinkle of his mouth and the sheen of tears sitting in those beautiful green eyes tell me more than words could ever say.
"I love you, Dana," he holds my hand tightly, rubbing his thumb across the back.
"I love you, to," I feel the tears prick my own eyes. We are both damaged on some level and I just hope by being together, we can help the other heal.