Feedback: Well of course, we are feedback sluts! For Paula you can send your adoration and chocolate covered Skinners with Webbs to Paula B . As for Tina you can send her adoration, and chocolate covered Skinners with nuts to zephiey@sc.rr.com . All flames will be used to keep the chocolate warm.

Author Notes from Tina: Writing with Paula was a fun and amazing experience. She is without a doubt one of the best author(ess) out there today.  Paula, you are the best!

Paula Notes: I'll take any challenge any time. I'm so glad Tina challenged me on this one. As for out and out hot couplings? Nobody does it better than Tina. I'll return the compliment and insist that you must check out her fabulous site at: http://www.geocities.com/zephiey/ . You'll be surprised at how wide reaching her fan fiction base is.

::  The Haunted Tale  ::

By Paula B and Tina Miller

Walking up to the dilapidated old mansion, Scully couldn’t help but think that how much it looked like a classic haunted house. Old shutters hanging from once beautiful hinges now rusted. Brickwork barely visible beneath the profusion of ivy and vines. Old wood siding dotted with flaking paint, it’s original color no longer known.

‘Yep,’ Scully thought to herself, ‘a perfect haunted house.’

Placing her hand on the old iron rail Scully gingerly walked up the stone steps, sweeping her flashlight in front of her. Nothing unusual was visible in its bright light. No hidden cracks for her to twist her ankle in. Nothing for her to trip over. Reaching the top of the stairs Scully turned her flashlight first to her left, then right, assuring herself that no danger was present. Stepping onto the darkened, leaf- strewn concrete porch, Scully swept her light over the floor- to- ceiling windows that graced the front of house. Seeing nothing in them but the reflection of her beam, she walked from one end of the porch to the other. The beam from her flashlight brightening the dusk- filled gloom.

Turning to look across the wide expanse of the lawn to the road Scully wondered when Skinner would be arriving. The message she had received had told her to meet him at the old mansion at 6 PM. She had arrived on time and waited inside her car for thirty minutes before grabbing her flashlight and exiting the car. Deciding to make use of the rapidly retreating daylight, she first explored what, at one time, would have been a lovely front garden. Some of the statuary still present fueled Scully’s imagination. As she walked the overgrown pebble and stone pathways, she fantasized about a time long ago when the garden would have been tended lovingly, it’s profusion of late autumn plants testament to the gardeners love and skill.

After her stroll thru the garden of her dreams, she then decided that she needed to use what little daylight was left to investigate and gauge the safety of the stone steps and porch. And so here she was, waiting on her ex-boss for whatever reason. She was not concerned that the message might not have come from Skinner because the note contained their code. A code that she and he had developed to ensure their safety. They had been set up too many times, sent on too many false leads, to not develop a secure way of communicating.

Sighing softly Scully shined her flashlight onto the face of her watch, checking the time once more.

‘He should have been her by now,’ she thought.

‘He probably ran into traffic,’ her inner voice answered. ‘You know how bad it is on weekends.’

‘Right,’ she thought. ‘It is getting a little chilly. I think I’ll wait in the car for him.’

Turning to walk down the steps Dana caught a glimpse of movement in one of the windows. ‘What the devil? This house is supposed to be empty.’

Shining her light at the window she noticed the slight movement of the curtain falling back in place. Pulling her gun from the back of her pants she crept toward the front door. Gun in one hand, flashlight in the other she moved slowly toward the closed front door. Shining her light onto the door handle Scully’s eyes widened as she noticed the once locked doorknob now begin to turn.

Moving closer she kept her eyes on the handle as it slowly turned and the door began to open. Raising her gun she kept her eyes focused on the opening door.

Distracted by the sight of approaching headlights in her peripheral vision Scully glanced over her shoulder to see Skinner’s car coming up the drive. Glancing back to the door Scully almost dropped her gun in disbelief. The door that moments before was opened now stood closed. She had not heard it close, nor saw it closed, but there it stood, closed. Standing there in complete bafflement Scully jumped when she felt a light touch on her shoulder. Swinging round she raised her gun and flashlight, aiming both at the startled face of Skinner who was still standing by his car a good twenty feet away.

~******~

"Scully?" Skinner slowly edged away from the car, not taking his eyes off the very frightened agent before him.

"You’re late." Her fear made her more angry than relieved to see him. And though her anger was directed at herself, she took it out on him, like she usually did. Realizing this, she blushed. "Sorry." She hastily holstered her weapon. "So what’s up? You decided to replace Mulder in our annual Halloween haunting?"

Skinner watched her carefully as he made his way up the steps. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you ask me to meet you here, Skinner?"

Slowly, as if expecting her to pull her gun on him again, he pulled a piece of paper out of his coat pocket. Reaching it out he kept his distance, never taking his eyes off her.

She shined the pen light over the typed message, recognized the code words and felt faint. He must have seen something in her eyes because he was instantly at her side. "Dana?"

She nudged him away so she could get the note that had brought her here. "How?"

"I don’t know. What is this place?" he growled and finally turned his attention to the old mansion thirty miles south of DC. The small town below them was still prosperous, but the house on the hill looked like no one had lived in it for a very long time.

"I’m as in the dark as you are, sir." She gulped. "This place isn’t important, though. Who figured out the code? Did you show it to anyone? Doggett? Reyes?" She said the last name with more feeling that the rest and hadn’t realized how jealous she was that Monica Reyes now occupied her place in the X-Files, her place in the basement office, her place in Skinner’s chain of command. Immediately she regretted her words.

"You know better, Dana." Skinner was almost absentminded in his rebuke, as if he expected nothing less and that made her feel almost worse than if he had cursed at her for her lack of trust. It was almost like he was pulling away from her and her feelings about him no longer mattered. Maybe Monica had replaced her in Skinner’s heart too. She shook her head wondering where that thought had come from. Walter Skinner was her friend. Wasn’t he. Wasn’t that all he was? She noticed Skinner peering into the windows, shining a flashlight she hadn’t realized he had.

"Funny?"

"What’s funny . . . Walter?" She made her voice gentle and conciliatory.

"If this place has been deserted, why aren’t the windows boarded? Why are there curtains at the windows? And more importantly, why is the place filled with furniture. Contrary to popular belief, few people just up and leave someplace leaving full front room suites complete with lamps on the tables and pictures on the mantle piece."

She stood next to him, inhaling the scent of him, now mixed with the smell of autumn -- the remnants of burning wood, the sharp odor that suggested that snow was just around the corner. She shook her head trying to clear it, wondering why she was suddenly fascinated by his smell. "Sir . . . Walter . . . you should know, just before you showed up?"

"What is it, Dana?" His voice sounded a bit ragged.

"I think I saw someone inside."

"Doing what?" he demanded.

She shrugged. "I think he -- or she -- was staring out at me."

"Did you try the door?"

She shuddered suddenly remembering her fear. Her voice dropped to a whisper,. "I saw the door knob turn."

Skinner studied her for a moment, then boldly walked to the door, twisted the knob and pushed the door open. He was surprised to not hear it creak or moan. Drawing his gun, he carefully made his way inside.

"Son-of-a-bitch.," he breathed.

~******~

Standing slack jawed in the foyer Skinner slowly turned around. Looking down at the woman next to him he noted her equally stunned expression.

"Sir?¼ Walter¼ . . . what is going on?," Scully asked, unable to believe what her eyes were seeing. Light played on the fabric- covered walls, casting soft shadows against it. A red velvet covered settee sat in the center of the foyer, it’s cushions covered by a myriad of cloaks, hats, and gloves. Oriental runners covered the hardwood floor, its shine reflected in the candlelight. The tinkling of glasses and softly spoken conversation could be heard in the adjacent rooms. Scully looked out the opened door, no longer seeing the darkened porch but instead the soft glow of gaslight.

"I don’t know..," Skinner answered moving away from the door and farther into the foyer.

Following him slowly, Dana spared a glance for the mirror to her left, gasping at the sight of her reflection. Instead of black pants, white t-shirt, and black jacket that she had worn, she know stood clad in a long, green sleeveless gown, it’s style reminiscent of the early 1900’s. It hung off the shoulder, the bodice scalloped, showing just enough skin to be tantalizing. Her arms were covered by long gloves, their color the same as her gown. Her hair was pinned up, the color highlighted by the string of emerald beads that were woven through it. Around her neck hung a beautiful emerald necklace, its green fire reflected by the candlelight. Matching earrings completed the look.

"Dana..?." Walter asked, coming to stand behind her.

If her reflection was clad elegantly, then his was dressed impeccably. She had seen him dressed formally a few times, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of him in a form fitting, elegantly tailored turn-of-the-century tuxedo. His tanned face was set off beautifully by the stark whiteness of his shirt. The black of his jacket fitted his massive shoulders perfectly. The emerald ring he wore flashed brilliantly in the mirror. She heard his hiss of indrawn breath moments before everything went black.

Darkness greeted eyes as Dana realized that she lay on the floor near the opened door. The cold breeze coming in causing her to shiver in the darkness. Sitting up slowly she suppressed the groan of discomfort that this movement evoked. Reaching in front of her she searched for her flashlight hoping that it was close. Her hand alighted on the cold metal. Fumbling for a moment before breathing a sigh relief at the sight of a single beam of bright light. Sweeping over the foyer her beam lighted on the inert body of Walter Skinner.

She scurried forward reaching his side. She checked his pulse satisfied that it was beating strong. Shining the light on his chest she was relieved to see its rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Locating his flashlight next to him she leaned over him, grabbing it. Turning it on, she began to shake him awake.

"Sir? ¼Walter?¼ . . . wake up. Walter, wake up," Scully ordered as she shook him gently.

Tense minutes passed as she waited for his response to her insistent shaking. Dana realized how much she did not want to be the only one conscious in this house! Hearing his groan of pain she sighed in relief. Helping him sit up she maneuvered him so that he was leaning against the wall.

"What happened?," he asked, trying to shake the feeling of nausea. Massaging the back of his neck he waited for her response.

"The last thing I remember was the reflection in the mirror then nothing. Everything went black," Scully whispered. Dropping her gaze to the floor Scully took a few deep calming breaths before looking back at Skinner. Seeing her pale, drawn face Skinner knew that she was as shaken as he.

"That is all I remember too," Skinner answered, bewildered.

Dana opened her mouth to say something but the slamming of the front door interrupted her. Both jumped at the sound. Getting to their feet as quickly as they could they reached the door. Shining a beam of light on the doorknob Dana watched as Walter tried to turn the knob.

"What the hell?"

Wrenching it back and forth Walter could not turn it. No amount of strength would turn the knob. "Son of a bitch," he breathed. "Looks like whoever lured us here doesn’t want us to leave so soon."

"Whoever or whatever," Dana replied, shining her light into the foyer. "There has to be another way out of here, Sir. Maybe a back door?"

Looking down at the woman next to him Walter replied, "Well then Scully, let’s go find it."

Setting off down the hall Scully muttered, "This was not how I planned on spending my night." Following Skinner into the darkened gloom Scully hoped that they would find another way out. But she could not shake the feeling that they would not leave here until it was time.

Faith watched the couple and sighed. "He’s very handsome don’t you think?"

Hope just sniffed. "He has no hair. You know I like a full head of hair."

Charity ignored them both and just watched the couple’s slow progress down the hall. The plan was coming together. She never really thought it would happen. Never thought she would be the instrument of the completion. If it hadn’t been for that silly séance Nigel forced her to haunt she would never have found the tormented one. He had been so sad, sadder than the woman who had lost her husband after 50 years of marriage. And, he had believed. He had a grim happiness about him when he spied her, knew she wasn’t just a manipulation of that so-called medium. She and Nigel had wreaked their revenge that night. After they had left the fake screaming from her nightmares, Charity had sought out the tormented one. Fox. What a lovely name. Born too late really and absolutely no use for her purpose. But, oh what lovely memories he had. His thoughts were of a very sad woman who had finally given up on his childishness to care for a child of her own. He also thought about a man, a good man, strong of spirit and determination.

Fox had given her what she needed and it only took a tiny push to get him to do exactly what she wanted. And now she, they, had returned to the scene of the tragedy. If all went well then perhaps, just maybe, they could all pass beyond and no longer haunt this increasingly dreadful boring world. If things went well, then the two she had chosen might live through the horror that was to come.

~******~

"Did you feel that?" Dana spun around.

"What?" Skinner barked.

"Something touched my neck."

"Knock it off, Agent." he rasped.

His flashlight picked up the pictures in the hallway. Most of them were portraits, bad renditions of plain people with pained expressions on their faces. "Jesus, and I thought Kersh looked cold."

"He doesn’t look cold, he looks like he’s waiting to spring a trap." Scully said bitterly. "I’m sorry, Walter."

"For what?" He demanded absentmindedly. One of the pictures had caught his attention and he stopped even as she continued on.

She turned to wait for him and in the distance the room began to shimmer and she could see him, dressed again as if he were going to a party thrown by an Astor or a Rockefeller over a hundred years ago. "Walter?"

"Hmmm?" He leaned closer to peer at something on the painting. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the painting grow and begin to engulf him.

"Walter!" She cried, running forward.

Skinner jerked around, and saw her running toward him, only she was having a hard time of it, her long skirt was getting in her way. Tendrils of flaming red hair were coming loose from the knot on top of her head and as she fell forward, the light from the candle he was holding caught the brilliance in the emerald around her neck, the emerald that Albert Dartmouth had given her on their betrothal, the emerald that Dartmouth had no right to give her. Anger welled up within him and he thought to let her fall.

~******~

Catching her by the upper arm he stopped her fall abruptly. The grip he had on her arm was slightly stronger than what was necessary but he was still angry.

Very angry!

Pulling her up he stared down at her with a cold eye as she calmed her breathing.

"Walter, you’re hurting me," Dana complained.

Releasing her abruptly he watched coldly as she righted herself, repairing her appearance. Looking up into his cold face Dana wandered why she had felt compelled to accept his proposal. He was such a cold, unfeeling man. She had never seen him experience the finer emotions that most human beings had. He was always so detached, such a gentleman. She sometimes wished he would react to her as Albert did.

Dana remembered the kiss that she and Albert had shared a week ago. It had been so passionate, so breathtaking. She had never experienced such a metaphysical connection with another human being before. The chaste kiss that she had shared with Walter was nothing compared to Albert’s. If only Albert had approached her Uncle before Walter had she would now be engaged to him rather than to the cold, unfeeling Walter Skinner. But he hadn’t and tonight she celebrated not only her birthday but her engagement as well.

Dana had not been enjoying her party. It was supposed to have been an intimate affair but it seemed that every member of Washington society was here in Walter’s home. She knew that this was not the case. Walter’s home was too small to hold all of society but the crème of it was in attendance. She endured the congratulations, the compliments and the small talk praying that this night would end.

The only bright spot in the entire evening was when Albert had presented her with her birthday gift. She had met him alone in the library. Opening the velvet box that he had handed her she could only stare at the beautiful emerald necklace for a few moments before reaching in to pick it up. Walking over to the mirror she stood quietly as Albert fastened it for her whispering in her ear how beautiful she looked. She had not protested when he had pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He whispered his undying love for her, assuring her that he would find a way for them to be together. That nothing could keep them apart. Their love was a metaphysical joining of two eternal souls and as such they would be together in this lifetime and beyond. When he had bid her goodnight and goodbye Dana had cried silent tears, her heart breaking. She stayed in the library repairing the damage to her face before rejoining the party.

When she had reappeared Walter had noticed the necklace immediately, his eyes narrowing. She had raised her chin in defiance at the disapproval in his eyes. As the evening wore on she could hear the speculation about the necklace, not caring.

After the last of the guests had left and the gaslights extinguished she had stood in the low candlelight admiring the necklace once more in the foyer mirror, entranced at the play of light on it. When Walter had walked up behind her and informed her that she would return the necklace to Mr. Dartmouth tomorrow she had argued with him, telling him that she would do no such thing. It had been a birthday gift to her and she would keep it. She had felt a frisson of fear when he had clamped his large hands on her shoulders and whipped her about to face him. Standing there staring up at him she seen his jaw snap shut and he growled out ‘So be it’ before grabbing the single candle on the foyer table and stalking off.

Now standing before him rubbing her arm she saw and felt the power that radiated off him. Looking up into his eyes she noticed that they were no longer just brown. Instead there were flecks of gold in them, the light from the candle brightening the emotion in them. Reaching out tentatively, Dana placed her hand on his chest her fingers flexing at the heat that radiated off him. Moving closer she watched in fascination as his eyes darkened, the iris covering the rich brown and gold. Unable to stop herself she leaned forward not quite sure what she was reaching for. Stopping just short of his lips she could feel his warm breath mingling with hers, heating her skin, causing goosebumps to rise. For a brief moment she was sure that they were going to share a kiss. A kiss that would rival and surpass the kisses that she and Albert had shared. But just as quickly as the feeling came it had passed.

~*****~

"Scully? ¼ Dana?¼ Are you alright?," Skinner asked holding her by her upper arms.

Pulling away abruptly Dana stared up into Skinner’s face for a few seconds trying to reconcile what she had just experienced. Wrapping her arms around herself she moved away from Skinner shivering slightly against the cold frisson of fear.

Watching her reaction Skinner knew that something had just happened. What exactly he wasn’t sure but he would bet his last dollar that it had something to do with what had happened earlier. Deciding that any questions he had could be answered later he looked at Dana saying, "Let’s find that backdoor."

~******~

"Damn it!" he cursed as the backdoor refused to budge. He stalked back out of the room.

"Walter?" She hurried after him into the passageway between the kitchen and the beautifully appointed dining room, its table set for twelve, the tapers casting a gentle glow. He tried the two tall windows there but they were sealed shut. He stalked into the next room and found the same. She was growing more pensive with each room until they found themselves back at the front of the house. The sitting room with its bright red brocaded furnishings seemed to glow in the candlelight. He didn’t even try this time. He stood there, hands on his hips glaring at the thin obstacle to their freedom.

"This is bullshit!" He roared. Before she could stop him, he picked up a heavy straight back chair and heaved it at the window.

"No!" She cried as the shattering of glass seemed to rise in a cacophony of screaming.

He whirled at her cry. Anger so intense shook him. In two steps he was upon her reaching for the necklace around her neck. He grabbed it and pulled her to him. "You’re mine. You’re all I’ve ever wanted and you go to that spoiled little rich boy. You accept his gifts! This!" He twisted the chain and pulled it tight. It was heavy gold and the links held. She didn’t even notice how hard was to breathe. Instead she saw the agony and desire in his face. She saw his determination and knew that when she was dead he would do something that would end his own life. She saw his hunger, felt his heat and knew that the surly passionless façade he presented to the world was a sham. Her eyes fluttered and she began to sink into unconsciousness.

Something about all this was familiar to Skinner. He had done this once before. This floating in the air above his body; watching himself slowly die. But this time it was different. The setting around him wasn’t the verdant green of Vietnam. The woman in his grasp wasn’t an old woman. The setting was old and threadbare, the furnishing broken and covered in mounds of dust. The person dying wasn’t a young Marine it was Scully. The man killing her was¼ . . . was who? He studied the scene with detachment. Like he had studied and analyzed every moment he ever had with her. Longing for her touch, wanting only to have her acknowledge his love for her, knowing that she could never love him. Fighting the pain and the anger when she succumbed to men who would push her, tattoo her back, and infect her soul but never to him. He understood the passionate rage consuming the man before him.

"You must stop it?," a gentle voice insisted.

"Why?" He demanded hoarsely.

"Because it will never end and he – you – will never know."

"Know what?" His detachment was growing thin and in his anger he turned to rage at the whisper of annoyance. "Dear God!" He breathed at the apparition before him.

She was almost as pretty as Scully. Her hair was as red, her skin as pale and her eyes as blue as Dana’s. That was all he really noticed. The rest of her was too vague to really make out.

"Know what!" he repeated.

Her face seemed to fade and it was replaced not by Walter Skinner choking the life from Dana Scully but another couple in the same room re-transformed to all its former splendor. He saw the woman drop lifeless from the man’s grasp. Saw the blood oozing from where the chain had bit into the soft flesh of her neck. Saw the horror in the murderer’s eyes. Watched as the man stared for only a moment before stalking to a gun cabinet against the wall, take a gun from it and blow out his brains. Watched as the body fell next to the woman.

"All he had to do was tell me. I didn’t know until it was too late." The apparition disappeared and he felt the rush as he returned to his body. Saw the life ebbing from Scully’s eyes.

"Oh God!," Walter cried as he broke the stranglehold he had on Dana’s necklace. Releasing her abruptly he watched in horror as she crumpled to her knees in front of him. Reaching her he stopped her boneless drop to the floor, laying her gently down on the faded rug. Pulling the necklace away from her skin he frowned at the tiny red line that marred her pale throat. Checking her pulse her found it slow but steady. Bending to place his ear near her mouth he checked her breathing. She was not breathing! Quickly shrugging his jacket off he stuffed it under her neck for support before pinching close her nose, covering her mouth with his and beginning CPR.

Breath!

Check pulse!

Breath!

Pulse!

Breath!

Pulse!

Breath!

Come on!

Breathe dammit!

Don’t give up on me!

~******~

"Are you going to give up?," a voice asked behind her. Whirling around Dana stared at the person behind her. Dressed in a long peach gown Dana watched as she walked ¼. . . no, floated to stand beside her. "I asked if you were going to give up? You know.. -- enter the great beyond? Enjoy eternal peace?" Smiling at Dana’s look of confusion she asked again, "Well, are you?"

"Umm, I don’t think so," Dana replied, confused.

"Oh good! I was hoping you would say that. Come with me I have something to show you," she instructed walking --¼ floating away.

"Shouldn’t I stay right here?," Dana asked, staring down at what she assumed was her body.

"Oh no, you don’t have to. The result will be the same whether you are here or not," the peach gowned woman answered. "Come with me, dear. I have something that you need to see. Come along now, don’t dawdle. We don’t have eternity you know!"

Intrigued, Dana followed the peach woman unsure about what was going on. ‘Unsure but not frightened,‘’ she thought.

"And so you shouldn’t be, my dear. Nothing to be frightened of. Nothing at all," the peach woman answered.

"How did you--¼.? You read my--¼. What is going on?," Dana asked.

"Oh dear I am so sorry. I forgot. Terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your thoughts but it is easier to speak that way for us then to actually speak. You understand don’t you?" At Dana’s confused nod she replied, "Good . . . ¼good! Now here we are," she added pointing. "Now watch my dear and learn."

~*****~

Sitting at the dinner table Dana could not believe how handsome her husband looked. The dark gray of his suit jacket emphasized his large shoulders. The white of his shirt highlighted the tanned features of his face. The candlelight made his brown eyes look like deep, rich chocolate fudge. So dark, so rich. She could not help but watch as he ate and drank. The way his lips closed over his fork, the way his tongue caressed the rim of his crystal goblet. She was entranced and confused.

How could she feel such desire for such a cold man? A man who never showed her how he felt. Never showed her the finer emotions that one human being could feel for another.

How could she have fallen in love with him?

How?

She was sure she loved Albert. Was positive that it was he who held her heart and soul in his hands. She was so sure that their love was the type of metaphysical connection that joined two souls for eternity. But if that were the case then why did she feel the way she did for her husband? When he stood near her she felt as if every nerve ending in her body were alive. When he touched her, her skin felt on fire. When he held her in his arms it took all her self control to not beg him to take her to his rooms and keep her there. She still could not believe how she had felt when he had come to her bed on their wedding night. Nothing had prepared her for what she had felt and endured that night. It was the only night she had shared with her husband, the very next day he had left on a business trip and in their six months of marriage she had seen him only a half dozen times. Tonight being one of those times. She could guarantee that he would not be joining her in her rooms this evening, he never did.

~*****~

Sitting down at her desk Dana answered the invitations that she had received. Many were for tea or picnics and those she answered with thanks and assurances that she would attend. Others for balls and dinners were declined stating that her husband was out of town on business and as such she would be unable to attend. Placing the acceptances in one pile and the declines in another Dana rung for Missy, hearing the front doorbell ring at the same time.

"Yes ‘mam," Missy answered.

"Missy, make sure these are posted today, please," Dana instructed.

"Of course ‘mam. Mr. Dartmouth is here to see you, ‘mam. Shall I tell William to show him in?," Missy asked. Seeing the look of exasperation on her Mistress’ face Missy fought to hide the smile on her lips. She and the other staff knew that Miss Dana no longer held any feelings for Mr. Dartmouth and were waiting with anticipation when Miss Dana lost all patience with him.

"Yes, Missy please do," Dana instructed. "And Missy, tell William I will not be requiring any refreshments."

"Yes’ ‘mam," Missy answered. She couldn’t wait to return to the kitchen and inform Mrs. O’Hara and the rest of the staff. Today may very well be the day!

Shaking her gown out Dana sat on the edge of the chair, her hands folded in her lap, the picture of calm and decorum. Inside though she was seething! ‘How dare he show up today! Walter was expected to arrive sometime this afternoon and she did not want Mr. Dartmouth here when he did arrive. She did not need him ruining her reunion with her husband with his mere presence.’

"Dana, my darling, I have missed you so," Albert gushed dropping to his knees, taking her hands in his and kissing them. "My dear, you look tired. Are you getting enough sleep? Is Skinner’s staff taking care of you? You should allow me to assist you in interviewing new staff," Albert finished, still holding her hands. Extracting her hands from his she stood and moved to the fireplace.

"My staff and health are fine Albert. What do I owe this visit to?," Dana asked, glancing at the clock on the mantle.

Narrowing his eyes for a brief moment Albert contained his temper before plastering a sincere smile on his face, answering, "I dropped by to see if you would agree to allow me to escort you to the Senator’s Ball on the 30^th? I could not forgive myself if you were forced to spend the evening alone."

‘That is very kind of you Albert but I will not be attending the Senator’s Ball. Walter and I have other plans for that evening. But it was very kind of you to think of me and issue the invitation," Dana replied, hoping that he would not see through her fabrication.

"I see," Albert answered, controlling the venom in his voice. Standing and making a show of checking his pocket watch Albert snapped the lid closed speaking, "Well ,my dear, I find that I need to go. I have another appointment. I bid you good day."

Extending her hand in goodbye Dana flinched at the strength that Albert gripped her hand with. "Until later, my dear," Albert murmured kissing her hand.

"Goodbye Albert," Dana replied.

Entering his carriage Albert looked back at the house as he rode down the drive. ‘You will be mine Dana, trust me on this. You ¼. . . will ¼. . . be ¼. . . mine!,’ Albert said, the venom in his thoughts shocking the watching Dana. ‘You will be mine . . . ¼forever!’

~******~

Looking at the woman next to her Dana’s thoughts were filled with a myriad of questions. Getting ready to give voice to them, Dana suddenly felt an intense cold coupled with a feeling of what only could be described as evil. Seeing the look of horror cross her companion’s face she did not hesitate when she was ordered to return to her body. Dana felt a flood of fear moments before she slammed into her physical form.

~*****~

Walter Skinner stared in horror and grief at the body of Dana Scully. He closed his eyes and knew what he had to do. He felt the dank evil compelling him to do the only thing left, now that she was gone. He had just started to reach for the gun resting on his hip when he heard the whispers begin to flood his senses.

"I tell you, she doesn’t love him."

"Well they seem perfectly happy to me, Dartmouth. She hasn’t left his side most of the evening. Where did he go?"

"I have no idea."

Walter opened his eyes and was no longer surprised to find himself back in the beautifully appointed house, sparkling and bright. He could hear the distant laughter but this time he knew who he was and that he didn’t belong here. Looking down at himself he saw he was still dressed in the same suit he had worn all day reading reports and signing off on 302s. When he looked up again he could see the other – himself in a previous life? -- standing off in a corner, a look of intense concentration on his face, listening.

Skinner turned his head slightly and saw where the whispers were coming from. He felt the cold of evil kiss across his skin again and this time recognized it for what it was.

"Are you going to ask her to dance?" Walter had no idea who the other man was but he immediately recognized Albert Dartmouth.

"I shouldn’t." Skinner saw the sly, knowing grin. "After all I can no longer afford to draw attention to our¼ . . . uhm¼ . . . relationship."

"Relationship!" The other man gasped. "Surely you don’t mean–.¼"

"Oh but I do. Someone has to be kind to her. Thank God her husband is out of town so often. See she wears my birthday present."

Skinner felt the rage rise in the other, felt the tug upon his soul and he felt himself join with his alter ego. The flash of pain at her betrayal was almost too much to bear but he fought to retain some control; retain some sense of who he was. He felt his Victorian self loose control completely. Felt the anger burn away the last of the guilt he was carrying for raping his wife on their wedding night. The memories of that night welled up within the other and the modern Walter Skinner finally understood.

The wedding night should have been considered a success. He had been a little drunk, delirious almost, at his luck of finally marrying her. He had led her upstairs, intent upon proving to her that he loved her and would make her happy. He had bent to kiss her, shyly, gently. He didn’t remember much afterward, but when he awoke the following morning she was lying sprawled next to him, naked. He saw the bruises he had left upon her breasts and belly. When he stumbled to the bathroom he saw the bruises she had inflicted upon him. Twinges of pain as he stretched drew his attention to his back and he gasped at the fine lines her nails had obviously caused while trying to fight him off.

Skinner sighed; he understood how a man raised in such a rigid moral climate would never dream that his wife would react to lovemaking with passion and desire of her own. Guilt had made the other flee the bedchamber. In vivid flashes of memories not his own, Skinner saw the two of them try to maintain a civilized appearance, neither willing to talk about how they felt or admit what had really happened. Each cast longing glances when the other one wasn’t looking. Skinner saw the light die in her eyes, saw shame replace her elation. ‘She thinks she a whore for enjoying the night.’

He felt the Victorian’s rage when he saw her in the hallway, wearing the emerald. But wait. Was she wearing the emerald? What was that around her neck?

~*****~

Dana touched the Jade scarab around her neck. She had found it one afternoon while checking the maid’s efforts at dusting in Walter’s room. It was nestled in a narrow space between his bed and wall. Stooping, she had picked it up and cradled it in her hand. She wasn’t sure what it was, but the very touch of it made her hand warm. ‘I’ll wear it tonight and see if he notices it. I like it very much, and it is green. It will be an excellent replacement for the emerald that Albert gave me. I will return the emerald tonight too.’

She was so happy on his arm. She had been surprised that he had insisted that they go to the senator’s party. She had longed to talk to him, but he still seemed so distant. She had to make him understand how much she wanted to love him. She had to make him understand that his touch was special to her and she was willing to change however he wanted her to, even if it meant denying what he made her feel.

She saw Albert standing talking to some man she had never met. ‘Might as well be done with the chore.’ She walked over to them. "May I have a moment, Mr. Dartmouth?" She ignored the look that passed between the two men.

"Of course, my dear." Albert led her down the hallway to the small study.

"Here." She reached into her small purse and handed him the emerald. "I cannot keep this, Albert. It gives my husband pain."

He growled low in his throat and she felt something she had never associated with him before – fear. But he smiled benignly and touched the scarab that kissed the vee of her cleavage. "I see he has already found a way to replace even my small gift as well as my esteem. Very well, Dana." She turned and walked to the door, eager to find Walter. His muttered farewell didn’t register on her. Only Skinner hovering unseen heard, "I’ll see you again in hell, Dana."

‘That little bitch! How dare she! Who does she think she is?’ Albert fumed silently, squeezing the emerald necklace in his hand. Stalking across the richly appointed study Albert seethed with rage. Rage that turned his face an alarming shade of red. Ranting silently to himself Albert crossed the study countless times before coming to a sudden stop, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. Pocketing the emerald necklace, Albert checked his reflection in the mirror, pleased to find that his rage did not mar his features in anyway. Adjusting the tie of his tuxedo, he glanced once more at his reflection before exiting the study, returning to the party.

~*****~

Walter had watched as the man muttered and raged in the confines of the small study. When he stopped suddenly and began to smile Walter had a sense of foreboding. But when he caught a glimpse of his eyes in the mirror that sense of foreboding turned to one of sheer terror. Evil, in every sense of the word emanated from his gaze and Walter could not help but feel the cold grip of terror. As he watched him exit the study Walter followed. He needed to know what he had planned, needed to find a way to prevent what was going to happen. Opening the door to exit the room he found himself not in the hall leading back to the ball but instead looking down at the body of Dana Scully.

~*****~

Dana felt the air rushing past her faster and faster as she ran. The evil that was chasing her was getting closer. She could imagine its putrid breath on her neck. Its icy fingers plucked at her skin. Trying to capture her in its grip. Trying to keep her from reaching her body.

Running over the uneven ground Dana darted between the trees hoping to use their cover to lengthen the distance between her and the evil that pursued her. Twisting and turning she tried to evade the low hanging branches that pulled at her hair and jacket. Stumbling over an exposed root she landed on her hands and knees, gasping for air for a moment before rising to her feet and continuing her fight through the dense tangled forest. Climbing over a fallen log Dana felt her foot catch on something halting her escape. Tugging and yanking at her trapped foot she ignored the scratches that the rotten wood was inflicting on her ankle. She could feel the evil getting closer. She needed to get back to her body . . .¼NOW!

Looking around frantically for something that would help her escape Dana spied an old spade, its metal rusted, its handle broken. Reaching for it Dana found she was not close enough to grab it. Extending her body as far as her trapped foot allowed Dana reached for the spade again. Her fingertips grazed it knocking it away from its resting place against the tree. Stretching a bit more she could almost reach it. Grappling in the dirt Dana let loose a sigh of relief when her fingers managed to find a small purchase on it. Dragging in back to her she held it tightly, lifting it up. Shoving it into the log she began to pry her ankle out of its wood encased prison.

Raising the spade for another blow Dana stopped in mid-air listening. Hearing the soft crunch of leaves Dana felt the icy tendrils of fear begin to close around her. Raising the spade for another blow she gasped when it was wrenched out of her hands. Looking up Dana fought for her rapidly losing control. Standing before her was the thing . . . ¼man . . .¼ that she had been fleeing. She watched as he silently knelt in front of her, his icy fingers extracting her trapped ankle from its prison. She could not resist when he lifted her over the fallen log standing her on her feet. She did nothing when his icy fingers traced the scalloped neckline of her t-shirt. She forgot to breathe when he bent forward, whispering in her ear, "Run Dana! Run as fast as you can!."

Hearing those words she turned and ran. Her ears were filled with his laughter and his voice.

"Run Dana! Run as fast as you can! You will never escape me! You are mine . . . ¼forever!"

Leaping over another fallen log Dana found herself suspended in mid-air for a moment before she began to plummet to the ground.

~*****~

Screams met his arrival. Screams of sheer terror. Screams that heralded the life of Dana Scully. Dropping to his knees next to her Walter grabbed her in relief. Unable to believe that she was not dead! Holding her tightly to his chest he felt tears of relief escape his eyes. Burying his face in her hair he held her as she shuddered in fright. Feeling her quiet he loosened his hold on her, moving away unable to look at the accusations that he knew would be blatantly apparent on her face.

Watching as Skinner moved away from her, the slump of his shoulders and his bent head Dana knew that she had to make him understand. She knew that he had not tried to kill her. That he was not to blame for what had happened. She had to make him understand that something else¼ . . . something evil was responsible. Something that wanted both of them to remain in this house forever. Something that caused the tragedy that seemed to be playing out once more. Something that had to be stopped.

"Walter¼ . . . please . . . ¼don’t¼," Dana pleaded.

Turning to look at her Walter could not believe that she would want him near her. He had tried to kill her. In fact, had killed her; had strangled her to death so long ago! He couldn’t risk that happening again. He needed to keep away from her and figure out how to stop what had happened in the past. He knew that something . . . ¼evil. Yes, evil was the only way to describe it. That something evil wanted them to stay here, in this house, forever. He needed to find a way to stop it. To save both their past and present lives.

"I can’t. I have to go¼ . . . keep away from you. Please don’t ask me to . . . ¼to . . . ¼please just don’t," Walter answered. The raw pain in his voice causing Dana to flinch.

Watching him walk down the hall toward the kitchen Dana wrapped her arms around herself as the wind outside howled. Its high pitch sound reminiscent of cold, dark laughter.

~******~

"You stupid weak female. You were weak then and you are no match for me now." The evil smirked looking on as the broad shouldered man stalked away from the female. "Now nothing will change and you are with me here – forever."

A softer whisper insisted, "Go to him. Make him heed you, Dana. Do not let the cycle continue."

"Bah. She is a stupid and insensitive as you were. She thinks she loves another."

"No.," Charity whispered. "No."

~*****~

Scully walked between the ruined furniture watching for any movement, any shift in the air. The only movement was the mice scurrying amongst the dust. Her neck hurt – terribly. She wasn’t sure why. She returned to the mirror in the hallway. But now it was covered in decades of grime. She reached into her jacket pocket and found a wadded up napkin from the fast food place that had served her dinner – how many hours, days, years ago?

Brutally she rubbed away the dirt and grime. She was rather surprised to find her flashlight resting on the table between two decaying books. Testing it, she shown the light down the hallway, praying she would find him peering at one of the paintings again, praying it had all been just a odd moment in time. But her neck hurt. She cast the light on her neck and peered into the tiny space she had cleared. Nothing. Then why was it hard to swallow. "Walter? Sir?" she called to him.

"Stay away, Dana." His voice echoed angrily throughout the house.

"Damn it. We have to talk."

"Dana, don’t you understand?" The voice was too far away and she finally realized he had gone upstairs. "How in the hell can a man so large move so softly?" She found the evidence of his passage and gingerly placed her small foot within the large path he had blazed. Any cobwebs had been cleared.

She had just reached the first landing when the cold struck her like a physical force. Fear gripped her belly.

"Go back."

"No. You must save him; save us."

Scully stood frozen. Letting the whispers and the fears buffet her like the wind outside was buffeting the trees. She looked behind her, saw ghost-like tree branches beckoning her through the windows. Vertigo seized her and she started to sway. But she clutched the banister and forced herself to calm. "Bullshit. Been here, done this, lived through the gunshot wound. Not again" Anger gave her strength. "Walter Skinner! Damn you, answer me. It’s bad enough Mulder ditched me every chance he got. I’m damned if I’ll let you do it too!"

"Dana?" She jerked her head up and saw him on the next landing. "You have to go away."

"We have to talk. There’s a logical explanation."

He laughed bitterly as she made her way up the stairs. "Logic? Since when did an X-file demand logic?"

"No, Walter." She tried to hurry but lethargy was over taking her and she watched in horror as the mist began to surround him. She realized what had been happening but she was unable to stop it. "Skinner!"

This time he struggled against it. Struggled, fought, cursed the inevitable. But this time was different.

He saw the fear in her face and reveled in it. He wanted nothing more than to cast her down the stairs. How dare she fight him off in their marriage bed only to take another? Take the hated Albert to her bed.

"‘She didn’t.’"

Dizziness overtook him as he felt the other presence, not close by but within himself. He had never believed in God or. . . .¼

"‘I’m not God. Listen to me. She didn’t bed Albert. He’s playing you. He’s insane and he’s trying to drive you to kill her.’"

"NO!" The roar shook the house and Skinner felt himself ejected violently. The shock of it caused him to stumble and he tripped, falling heavily against a sturdy low cabinet. Striking his head he heard the mingled shouts and whispers. Malevolent laughter mixed with resigned sighs. But the last thing he heard was Dana’s anguished, "God, no. Please Walter."

~*****~

Sitting next to Walter, Dana waited patiently for him to return to consciousness. She had found a pitcher, basin and cloths in the mud room off of the kitchen. After spending a few minutes coaxing the water out of the old pump she had returned to Walter’s side. Gently putting his jacket under his head she cleaned his wound applying a clean cloth to the knot that was forming on the side of his head.

Leaning back against the cabinet Dana closed her eyes for brief moment. She was so tired. Getting less than 4 hours of sleep the night before was finally catching up to her. Add to that experiencing whatever they were experiencing right now was draining her reserves. Scooting over Dana moved closer to Walter enjoying the heat he was giving off. It was a little chilly in the house. She could feel that the temperature had dropped a bit since they first arrived.

Leaning her head back against the cabinet Dana closed her eyes again. Listening to the soft breathing next to her she relaxed. Lulled by the heat, the soft breathing and her own exhaustion she slipped into sleep.

~*****~

The pounding of his head was the first thing that he noticed, the second was the soft body curled next to his. Opening his eyes Walter looked up at the darkened ceiling of the hallway. He vaguely remembered the voices, the feeling of rage before everything had gone black. Shifting slightly he groaned. "Not a good idea Walt,", he admonished himself, softly.

"You’re right it is not a good idea" the soft voice floated over him. Sitting up, Dana reached for the penlight, doctor mode shifting into gear. "Stay still and let me check your responses."

"Dana, I’m fi-- ¼" Walter began.

"So help me if you say you are fine I will . . . ¼I’ll . . . ¼I don’t know what I will do but it will not be pleasant" Dana threatened. Satisfied that he was not going to argue with her, Dana checked his responses, not pleased. Turning the penlight off she switched her flashlight on, stating, " You have a slight concussion."

"Hmm,¼" Walter replied, sitting up gingerly. "Dana, I think--¼"

Interrupting him Dana replied, "Walter, don’t . . . ¼just don’t. I am not going to leave you here alone. I am not going to sit in another part of this . . .¼ this dammed house waiting for another one of those vision things to happen! And I am sure as hell not going to listen to you blame yourself for something that you had no control over! So don’t tell me what you think I should do . . . ¼because I am not going to do it!"

"I was just going to suggest that we move back downstairs" Walter answered.

"Oh" Dana answered slightly embarrassed at her outburst. Helping Walter to stand Dana lead the way to the stairs. Walking slowly down the stairs Dana kept looking back at Walter, making sure that he had no difficulty. Stopping on the landing Dana swept the light out in front of them. Making sure that nothing impeded their progress. Stopping at the fist stair that led down to the foyer Dana waited for Walter to join her.

"I think I need to sit down" Walter said. Sitting down on the first step Walter leaned his head against the wainscoting. Closing his eyes he took a few deep breaths fighting the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Dizzy?" she asked.

"Just a little" he answered. "Dana¼?"

"Yes Walter?"

"I just wanted to . . . ¼I know that you said that you didn’t blame me for . . . ¼but I . . .¼ I am not saying this right am I?" he finished.

"Walter, I know it wasn’t you who that attacked me. I know that you were not responsible for what happened. Someone is keeping us here," Dana answered.

"Why do you say someone?"

Looking at him she wondered if he would believe what she had felt when she had returned to her body. "After the attack. When I was still unconscious I saw you trying to revive me" she explained. "I am not sure what I experienced but I can tell you that I saw you fighting for my life. At that same time I met a person . . . ¼a spirit I think . . . and she showed me . . .¼ I know this sounds crazy but--.."

"Go on Dana, what did she show you? And no I don’t think it sounds crazy" answered Walter, remembering his most recent experience.

"She showed me, Me. Me in another time. I was having dinner . . . ¼with you. I could feel how confused I was about . . ." Dana hedged. "About something. Later I was answering mail when I had a visitor. His name was Al--¼"

"Albert Dartmouth" Walter finished.

"Yes, but how did you¼ . . .?"

"Go on. What else happened?" Walter insisted.

Looking at his face Dana saw not only curiosity but something that looked like . . . ¼jealousy? "We spoke and I could hear him invite me .¼ her ¼whoever to a ball. I.¼ she told him that she was unable to attend but I.¼ she was grateful for the invitation."

"Then what?"

"He left and I . . . ¼she was relieved and extremely angry that he had shown up in the first place."

"Did you feel anything else?" Walter asked.

"Yes," Dana whispered. "After the scene stopped playing I felt something wrong . . . ¼evil. I had the overwhelming urge to get back to my body! This . . . ¼this thing chased me back to myself. It caught up with me. It was so . . . ¼cold . . . ¼so evil" Dana continued in hushed tones. "It whispered in my ear to run . . . ¼to keep running but no matter how fast I ran it was always right there whispering that I was its."

"Is that why you woke screaming?" asked Walter.

"No. I woke screaming because I ran off a cliff and was falling" Dana answered. "I have never been so glad to hear me screaming before in my life."

Walter could understand that feeling. "Dana, I think you are right I think someone is trying to keep us here."

Relieved that he did not think that she was crazy Dana asked the obvious question, "What happened to you?"

Standing slowly, Walter answered, "I’ll fill you in as we go. Come on, the sooner we figure out why this is happening and how to stop it, the sooner we can get out of here."

Dana couldn’t agree more.

She had been grateful and surprised when the small fire he built in the hearth in the kitchen didn't smoke them out. She snapped her fingers, "I’ll be right back." She returned with the backpack that served as her purse. "Never got out of the habit of being Mulder’s partner," she said as she triumphantly held up the small sealed sandwich bag. "Cinnamon stick tea and¼" she rummaged through the bag again and held up a large candy bar. "Hershey’s Chocolate."

Skinner, fighting to keep his jealousy where it had always resided in the blackest recesses of his soul, deadpanned. "That candy bar has been in your backpack since Mulder?"

She sensed something in his voice but met his gaze calmly. "I said I never got out of the habit of being his partner. I always have something to drink and something that will give me energy."

He had the grace to blush and gingerly sat down on the rickety chair at the ancient solid table. "What are you going to heat the water in?"

"This will do." The teakettle had seen better days but it looked like it had a tight seal. Hopefully the tea would hide any funny odor.

~*****~

"So what you’re telling me is that he thought he raped her and she in fact just responded the way women should respond when the right man makes love to them. And then, because of his reaction, she thought that he thought she was a slut!" Dana paused to sip the hot tea from one of the cracked cups Skinner had found in a sideboard in the dining room. The story rang true. "What about Albert?"

"Well, if that’s really us in a previous life, then I would say Albert is playing the role of Spender." At her sigh of relief, Skinner demanded, "What?"

Her eyes dropped. The candle stub he had found and lit seemed to pick up the gold in her hair and he longed to reach out and touch it. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I was afraid you were going to say you thought it was Mulder."

Skinner’s bark of laughter shot her head up and he was immediately ashamed. "No, Dana. I never thought it was Mulder. I’ve never cast Mulder as the evil villain in my life. Surely you know that." He stood and went back to the stove to retrieve the hot water. Scully only had four tea bags so he would make the one he used last. They might want some in the morning – if morning ever came. "Frankly," he whispered very softly to the darkness, "I’m just glad I got to love you in one lifetime."

"What?" She hadn’t heard him – had she? "What did you say?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if we would be able to change anything."

She stared at him for a long moment but decided to let it pass. They would need to talk. Should have talked months ago. But then, there had never seemed to be any time – just like now. She let the water leach the last dredges of flavor from the tea bag. They had both nibbled on the chocolate. Now all she longed to do was curl up against him and sleep. But they needed to plan.

"So. What do you suggest?" She waited while he carefully squeezed his own used teabag.

"You forget, Dana. I came to this believing stuff late. But, from what little I know I think we’ve already passed the first test."

"Test?"

"Yeah. I get the distinct impression that you were supposed to die in this lifetime too."

She nodded. "But obviously that’s not enough. We have to prevent it from happening back then. But how? And what will happen if we do." Fear suffused her face. "Oh God, what if."

"Dana, I don’t know. All I know is that it will do no good to just sit here. It will come for us."

She pushed her cup away from her and went to stand before the fire, hugging herself tightly, wishing it was his arms around her. They had never explored the obvious attraction between them. She knew how he felt about her. She also knew he had no clue what his friendship and esteem meant to her. She had always been afraid to explore the feelings that she had for him any further for fear that what they did have would be ruined. Her track record was almost non-existent, and his was apparently just as disastrous. He had a murdered prostitute in his past; she had a murderous tattoo artist. And then there was Mulder.

She felt him stand behind her. It always amazed her how quiet he could move. His hands on her shoulders seemed to burn her but she allowed him to pull her back against his chest and offer his heat and comfort. "We’ll do the best we can Dana, just like we always have."

"And if we fail?"

Her whisper broke his heart but he didn’t try to sugarcoat it. They had been through too much together. There was no longer any room for lies. "Then, I guess we die here." He looked around and grumbled. "Let go see if there is something even remotely comfortable. As long as they will let us, I think we need take the opportunity to sleep."

They went back to the front of the house, searching each room. It was Dana who found the ratty sofa, dating from perhaps the fifties. Long, low and hideous, it was pushed against one wall of a room that had probably been used as a makeshift family room. Skinner sighed a fervent "Thank you."

"You’re right, you should be able to stretch out on it." Quietly she asked, "Would you mind holding me, Walter." She blushed. "For some reason I think it might be important."

He pulled off his jacket and covered the spot where they would lay their heads. He forced himself not to think about the other creatures they would be sharing their bed. He stretched out and moved as far back against the back of the sofa as he could. He was surprised by how sturdy it felt. He wasn’t surprised at the odor of mildew that rose up to try and choke him. Reaching out his arms he beckoned her to him and she gratefully spooned against him, her beautiful ass nestled close to his crotch and he began making silent deals with his libido to please not embarrass them both in the morning.

He had no choice but to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. He should have been in heaven but he knew this was probably the beginning of their descent into hell.

~*****~

"Dana?" Walter whispered in her ear. "Dana? Wake up. Wake up."

Waking immediately Dana murmured, "What?"

"Shh, look over there. We have a visitor."

Following Walter’s gaze Dana’s eyes widened at the site of another Walter Skinner. Standing before them in a turn of the century suit he looked every inch the Walter Skinner she knew. Everything about him said Skinner, from his well fitted suit to his wire framed glasses.

"He has been there since I woke up" Walter whispered in Dana’s ear. "He hasn’t said anything, just watched us. I think he was waiting for you to wake."

"But why?" Dana whispered.

"I’m not sure but I think he knows we are trying to help" Walter’s arms tightened around Dana as his double began to move forward. Dana’s heart began to race as he moved closer and closer. The double stopped just in front of the sofa, looking down at the them. Dana’s heart began to hammer harder as he extended a hand toward her. Time seemed to come to a standstill as she felt a slight caress over her cheek and across her lips before the double began to disparate, leaving her disoriented briefly.

"Are you alright?" Walter asked.

"Yes, I think so. I felt strange for a moment." Moving to sit up Dana scooted down the sofa to sit near Walter’s thighs. Stifling a yawn she asked, "What time is it?"

Checking his watch he answered, "About 4:30." Moving so that he was partially upright, he leaned back against the side of the couch, thinking. A comfortable silence filled the space between the two of them. Walter’s thoughts were filled with the how, why and what was going on, trying to formulate a plan to assist their other selves.

"Walter? Walter?" Dana said shaking his thigh to get his attention.

"Hmm . . .¼" he answered, still deep in thought.

"I asked if you have any ideas?" asked Dana.

"Maybe. What do you know of hypnosis?" Walter asked sitting up.

"Not as much as Mulder" she answered. "But what I do know is that not everyone is susceptible to hypnosis. Most hypnosis is used for behavioral changes. Clinical hypnosis is used often in conjunction with psychiatry allowing the subject to recall a harmful event in their past. It is often used with victims of abuse, such as child abuse. Unfortunately, not all hypnotic episodes are accurate in their detail, since you are dealing with the subconscious. Invalid fears can influence what the subject experiences, distorting their memory of a specific experience. That is one of the reasons that regression hypnosis is often not used in court. Why do you ask?"

"After the death of Carina Sayles I began therapy for my recurring nightmares and sleep disorder. During that time I was taught how to perform self hypnosis. I used it to help control the nightmares and to relax."

"I think I know where you are going with this but are you sure that it will work?"

"I don’t know but it is worth a try. And considering it is the only thing I can think of that doesn’t require knocking one of us over the head with a frying pan, I would like to try it." At Dana’s look of confusion Walter added. "The last few times that we have experienced these visions you or I have been either unconscious, or distracted. If we can mimic the distraction then there is a good chance that we can control the encounter. Although considering that we are operating in the dark here, I could be completely wrong."

"Or completely right" Dana added, not at all comfortable with the idea. Deciding not to voice her reservations and list everything that could possibly go wrong she instead asked, "How do you start this process? Do you need anything specific to begin?"

"I usually listen to a tape to help begin the process" Walter added.

"Well we don’t have a tape but¼ . . . do you think that listening to my voice would help?"

"Yes, it should. You could repeat the phrase ‘relax your body . . . ¼breathe in . . . ¼breathe out.’ in a soft tone. That would give me something to focus on.," Walter said.

"Is there anything else that we need?" Curious as to what equipment was needed to perform this. Walter mentally went over the list of items he used when inducing hypnosis. "We need some sort of alarm or bell. Something that will trigger the wake response for me. Normally at home I use one of those kitchen timers. But I don’t have anything like that here."

"Why don’t we wait until daylight then we can search the downstairs for a bell or something," Dana suggested.

"Good idea. I would prefer to do this in the daytime. It may be safer." Checking his watch once more Walter saw that they had less than an hour before sunrise. "I don’t know about you but I could use another cup of tea," he suggested.

Nodding in agreement Dana added, "and a bathroom," before standing and slipping her shoes back on. Turning around she stared as Walter stood, stretching like a large jungle cat, bringing emphasis to his muscled back and arms. ‘Ohh boy!’ she thought as he slipped his shoes on, grabbed his jacket and led the way back to the kitchen. ‘They were definitely talking after they got out of here!’

~*****~

"You’re incredible." she sighed.

He laughed and picked up the bucket he had carried into the tiny little ½ half-bath and poured into the back of the toilet. "I can’t promise what will happen when you flush. I found a large bowl under the sink. I’ll go rinse it out, fill it and bring it back."

"You don’t have a spare toothbrush do you?" she asked him when he returned.

"You’re the one with the magic backpack, Scully. All I have is the toothpick on my Swiss Army knife." He patted his pocket. "Scratch that. I didn’t want to have to explain it at the airport last week. FBI credentials don’t mean what they used to."

"I think sometimes they are being petty dictators, flaunting their powers.," she muttered remembering the flight to Memphis last week when the woman had snorted at her ID and proceeded to search every nook in her carryon and her briefcase. ‘Don’t play no favorites here, honey.’

"I agree." He smiled for a moment. During the jovial bantering, he almost forgot what they were doing here -- trapped in this house. They would never be this close and joking if the circumstances hadn’t thrown them together. "Uhm . . . ¼I’ll leave you alone. I’ll be in the kitchen. Okay?"

She saw his face shut down right after the grin of understanding had flashed across it. ‘I do that to him,’ she thought sadly. ‘Why? Why can’t we be easy together?’ He shut the weather warped door as best he could, leaving her with the tiny candle to light the dingy room. It wasn’t nasty or anything, just very old and very grimy. Except for a few suspicious droppings in one corner it wasn’t bad at all, really.

She focused on the window in the corner. She could see there were heavy boards covering it but surely she would be able to make out the brightening of the day beyond them soon. She craved the sunlight; even the gray overcast morning of November would be a welcome change from the dark. She hoped Walter’s plan would work. She wanted to get out of here. Wanted to go somewhere and just sleep. Sleep with Walter Skinner.

Her eyes snapped open. "Where the hell did that come from?" He was her friend. The one constant in her life, even when she wasn’t sure she trusted him, even when she was very sure she didn’t trust him to protect Mulder the way she would have, he was always there for her. She had been his subordinate for such a long time that any action on his part could have ruined his career and, of course, forever ended her knick-name of "‘Ice Queen.’" She knew once he touched her, branded her for his own, the whole world would be able to see it on her face. "Knock it off. Jeeze. How high school. You’re in a tight situation. He’s acting like a professional and you’re acting like Doris Day!"

She splashed the water on her face and rubbed as much as she could off with her hands. She checked the medicine cabinet but the only thing there was an ancient shaving mug coated in the remains of soap so dry it flaked away when she touched it. She tried the door and found it stuck. She had to put her shoulder against it and, of course, went tripping out the door when it flew open. She caught herself from falling and looked around. "Walter?"

Panic seized her and she hurried back to the kitchen. She found him sitting at the table just staring straight ahead. "Walter?"

"It’s 8:30." He announced, not moving at all.

She looked out the kitchen window, also boarded tight, but the light from another candle he had found lit the room enough so she could see gaps in the boards. Gulping, she walked over and, standing on tiptoe, peered outside. "Oh my God. There’s the moon. We slept through the entire day?"

"God, I don’t know? I sure don’t feel like I slept through the day, Dana." She turned to find his face buried in his hands. She could almost see him losing control.

"Well then, we’ll do it in the dark then, DAMN IT!"

He looked up into her determined face "Fine. We’ll do it. I found this." He pointed to a heavy metal mallet whose head held a sharp raised pattern. "You can hit it against the metal pot I found." A loud discordant clatter rang through the room.

"That would wake me up." She smiled and sat next to him. "You ready?"

"No, but let’s do it."

"Want me to hold your hands?"

He thought for a just a moment to say yes, but he knew her touch would distract him more than soothe. He shook his head, squared his shoulders and looked into the flickering candle.

"Breathe in . . . ¼Breathe out . . . ¼Relax your body . . . ¼Breathe in¼ . . . Breathe¼ . . . ."

Music floated through the air. Laughter assailed his senses. Fragrances that he had always associated with very old women swirled around him like the brightly colored dresses on the women. The hint of cigar smoke hung in the air. It was just like before, except Walter Skinner, the Assistant Deputy Director of the FBI, still knew who he was. He could feel everything his other self felt. This time he would be careful. He somehow knew he could not afford to be ejected this time. This was their last chance. He relaxed in the other body and recognized the strength of Victorian Skinner. Victorian Skinner was a businessman, held in respect by his colleagues if the man standing next to him/them was to be believed. The other was listening but his eyes were scanning the room. Skinner felt the other’s elation when he spotted her. She was standing across the room, talking with some woman, laughing at something the other said. Suddenly she looked up and looked into his/their eyes and AD Skinner knew.

He knew, somehow, someway that both Dana Scully’s were staring into his soul.

Walking around the ballroom Walter made his way over to his wife. Along the way he exchanged small talk with a number of associates, barely paying attention to their responses. His attention rooted on the lovely redhead.

"Walter, have you heard a word I have said?" Senator Tomlin asked.

Looking at the Senator, Walter could feel his ears reddening, he couldn't for the life of him remember what the Senator had been talking about. Deciding that honesty was the best policy in this situation Walter responded "No sir, I did not. It seems my attention was on another matter entirely."

Hearing his response, Senator Tomlin could not suppress the chuckle that escaped. Leaning into Walter the Senator whispered, "I remember those days, Walter, my boy. It was the same for Mrs. Tomlin and I. Go on, retrieve your bride. Give her my best."

"I will, Senator, thank you. Give Mrs. Tomlin my regards," he said, walking away.

The Senator watched as Walter made his way over to his wife. Signaling one of the security men over to him, Senator Tomlin whispered to him. Nodding his head in understanding the man left, intent on carrying out his instructions to the letter. This was one time that he would enjoy his orders.

Skirting the last obstacle between he and his wife Walter walked up to her, taking her hand in his. Looking up at him, Dana was struck once more at how handsome and elegant her husband looked. His black tuxedo fitted him like a glove, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders and the leanness of his waist. The attraction that she had felt for him had grown until it was now an all consuming need. Even the slightest touch or gesture on his part generated a physical warmth from her. She knew that her reactions were wanton but she was unable to control them. The only saving grace that was available to her was that he was away on business so often that he was unaware of his affect on her. Although this morning her carefully maintained facade almost crumbled to dust.

She had knocked on the door to his suite this morning intent on informing him that she would be returning the emerald to Albert. She no longer wanted it. In fact, had not wanted it in her possession since their wedding night. When he had bade her enter she had not imagined for a moment that she would catch him dishabille. She could do nothing but stare at the soft fur that covered his torso or how the muscles there were so well-defined. The top button of his pants had been undone and his suspenders hung down framing his crotch, bringing to mind what was hidden under those pants. Keeping her voice level she prattled on about the ball this evening, never broaching the subject of the emerald. After assuring him that she would be ready by eight that evening, she had hurriedly left his rooms, escaping before she embarrassed herself. Entering her suite she dropped onto the small settee, burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the memories of their wedding night. It had taken her all day to once again feel in control. That control had almost vanished when she looked down at Walter as he stood in the foyer waiting for her. She had to fight down the urge to beg him to take her to bed. To love her all night.

Now here she stood looking up at Walter, silently hoping that he would not ask her to dance. The thought of being in his arms would fuel the fire that was already burning in her. She knew that she would be unable to prevent herself from begging him to take her home to bed, to love her until she cried for him to stop.

"Dance with me?" Walter purred, lifting Dana's hand to his lips. Unable to speak, Dana nodded her acceptance praying that her tenuous control remain. Leading her onto the dance floor, Walter took her in his arms, his strong hand holding hers, feeling the softness of her gown under his other hand. 'Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea,' he thought, as he caught a whiff of her perfume. He immediately recognized the scent, his gut clenching in remembrance. She had worn the same scent on their wedding night, the night he had raped. . . . ¼'no, not rape. The night he had made love to her. Her reaction to him had been one of pleasure not disgust. Why hadn't he remembered that before,?' he wondered.

Dana could feel the tight coil of tension in her stomach. Just being in his arms, having his scent encompass her, she could feel her control slipping. She did not know how long she could continue to be in his arms before begging him to take her to bed. She knew he would look down at her in disgust, repelled by the thought that she could not control her base desires. She was sure that no other wife reacted with such wantonness to their husband's attention. She was nothing more than a tramp, a slut, a whore. Why else would Walter refuse to share her bed? She disgusted him.

Before her eyes Dana saw her wedding night replay. She was astride him, leaning into him as he suckled her breast. She watched as he kissed her, his hands roaming over her body. As she rode him she delighted in his moans of pleasure, teasing him and him making him loose control. She clung to him when he reversed their positions, he on top, driving into her. She shuddered in abandon when he slipped his hand in between their bodies, teasing her. She shattered when he pinched the bundle of nerves that lay hidden in her curls, sending her into the warm blackness. She remembered waking to his caresses, enjoying his loving, his whispered words of approval only to journey back into the warm blackness once more.

"Why didn't I remember that before?' she wondered.

As Walter held his wife in his arms and danced her around the room, Skinner was content to stay in the background. He trusted Scully to do the same. This was the Victorians’ life and if their modern day counterparts interfered too much then Skinner feared more problems might very well be caused. And so he waited. Waited for any signs of anxiety that he would have to offset. As he did, he allowed himself to fully experience the other’s life.

Skinner bowed to his wife when Senator Tomlin cut in and immediately went to the refreshment table.

"Uncle Walter!" She was a pretty girl, perhaps 16 from her look.

"Charity. Hello dearest. What are you doing here?"

"Papa said we could come. Faith and Hope are around here somewhere." She giggled. "Hope is quite besotted with the Senator’s aide. She’s gone off to look for him."

"He’s too old for any of you." Walter said to his late sister’s daughter.

Skinner was suddenly very alert. He knew this girl. Knew she was the one who had orchestrated everything. But did she know? Or was she as unaware of the coming events as her uncle? He was becoming agitated and felt that he was losing his hold here. For a moment the room shimmered but a calm voice whispered in his ear. "Be calm. She knows nothing – I knew nothing. Neither did Hope. Poor Hope, for nearly a hundred years she’s blamed herself."

"Why?"

"See."

Instantly Skinner knew exactly who and what he was looking at. Another teenager, almost the duplicate of the girl now dancing in Victorian Skinner’s arm was flirting outrageous with a young man still too old for her. The man was desperately looking for someone or something. But, Hope was gripping his arm, insisting that he pay attention to her.

"So much tragedy could have been avoided had poor Nigel found Albert and engaged him as the Senator had insisted. You see, Tomlin was Albert’s uncle. He knew Albert held Walter a grudge. He had no idea what was to follow or how even Albert would be used. No idea how many would die."

"Dear God, how many did die?" Skinner gasped.

"Why the Senator, Nigel, Faith, Hope, me, you and Dana. Walter killed Albert and Dana in a fit of rage. Nigel found him and tried to stop him from killing himself, but it was too late."

"Then how did the rest of you die?"

"If you succeed you will understand. Time grows short. We only have one chance. If you do not do what is needed then nothing can be done about for another 100 years." Her voice in his head left as Walter bowed to his niece and looked around for his wife.

Scully was worried. She had been surprised when she felt herself bonding with her Victorian counterpart. But she had grown comfortable hiding in Dana’s mind. She had instantly recognized Skinner behind Walter’s eyes. But now she was worried. She suspected that the final confrontation was soon to be played out.

"Dana."

"Hello, Albert." Dana said stiffly.

"I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I only want what’s best for you."

"My husband knows what’s best for me." Twin dots of embarrassment kissed her cheeks.

"Please let me speak with you in private. I have information you must know about him."

"What information?" Dana, so unaware of the ways of the world, was immediately worried. Scully sensed this but was unsure how to counteract it.

"Come. I have something important to show you. Upstairs. Dana, dearest, please." He paused then lowered his voice. "Walter is in grave danger. I understand that I can no longer have you. I can see that he makes you happy. Please come and see what I have to show you."

Through Dana’s eyes, Scully saw Skinner deep in conversation with someone. She could feel Dana’s anxiety rising and tried hard to gently nudge her to stay put. However, she must have pushed too hard. Scully felt the shock as Dana realized her presence. Fear propelled her Victorian self up the stairs. Albert’s cruel countenance was completely lost on the frightened woman.

Skinner caught the movement out of the corner of Walter’s eye. He could tell that the other hadn’t registered the movement. He wasn’t sure how to tell him. He realized he didn’t have to.

"Walter." The voice was vaguely familiar.

Skinner could feel the other’s dislike for the man before him. "What is it, Spender?"

‘Son of a bitch’ Skinner tried to keep his reaction to himself, but he felt the other’s confusion.

"Speak up, man." Walter demanded.

"I just saw your wife go upstairs with Albert Dartmouth. She looked rather flushed, old man." Skinner could barely recognize their nemesis in this earlier life. Smooth skinned, quite dashing, Spender still radiated the evil that evidently spanned several lifetimes.

As Walter hurried up the stairs, Skinner could feel the emotions boil and rage within the man. He could also feel the souls of every being tied up in this tragedy poised in anticipation for what was to come. He began to try and influence the very angry man. ‘Calm down. She loves you. You know this.’

"She loves him. She is only using me. . . .¼"

‘For what damn it! Remember that night in your bed. You’ve only to show her how much you care. You’ve been the one pushing her away. Make her see how much you love her.’

"She can’t love me. Look at me. I’m a brute compared to Dartmouth. He’s everything I’m not."

‘You’re right. But you’re everything she wants. Wait, damn it. Wait and listen.’

They paused at the doorway. Skinner felt the Victorian fight the urge to forcefully push into the room. But Skinner had influenced somewhat and he slowly opened the heavy oak door. The scene before them almost had Skinner losing control.

Scully threw caution to the wind. She could feel the evil in Dartmouth, knew what he was going to do. As soon as the door to the upstairs bedroom closed behind them, she practically screamed "NO!"

Dana panicked at the intense pain inside her head and clutching it, she almost fell to her knees. Albert was on her in a second. "I’ll have you now. Just once I’ll have you for my own. He’ll never want you again." He pulled her to him and before Dana could lash out his lips were over hers. He held her tight and all she wanted to do was swoon but the voice in her head screamed at her, FIGHT HIM! SLAP HIM! SCRATCH HIS EYES! BITE HIM FOR GOD’S SAKE! Rage long buried by Victorian sensibilities finally bubbled up. She brought hands down and hit him as hard as she could. She had no idea why she put such force into hitting him in the ears; it was completely foreign to her, but it worked.

Albert grabbed her shoulders and dug his nails into her soft skin. "Bitch, I’ll hurt you for that."

The roar from the doorway turned them both around. Albert released Dana who started to faint, but from somewhere deep inside she heard the same voice that had roused her from her shock urge her to stay upright. Staggering back she watched in horror as her husband approached her tormentor.

Dartmouth regained his sensibilities quickly. "Ah, Skinner. Now you know. She’s always wanted me. She came with me willingly. Isn’t that right my dear?"

Scully urged the woman to stay calm. Dana took a deep breath and agreed. "Yes, I did."

"What!" Both Skinners demanded.

"Albert, you said you had information that my husband was in danger. Pray tell me, are you perhaps the danger that I need to warn him about."

Skinner watched in fear and awe as the woman he had always loved, perhaps even in another lifetime, met his steady gaze. He no longer knew where the Victorian ended and he began. He only knew he loved her and would do anything to protect her. He was at her side in a moment, his arms around her, shielding her. Gazing into her eyes he saw both women. It was dizzying. He was so disconcerted that he didn’t catch the movement at the doorway. The muffled pop broke his stupor and hugging Dana close to him, he turned toward the noise. A thick horsehair pillow shielded the gun in Spender’s hand. A look of disgust darkened his face as he glared at the body of Albert Dartmouth sprawled on the floor, blood blossoming from his chest.

"Well, I see that I will have to arrange things after all. I didn’t think the fool could carry it off. Pity. You should have killed him and then her. Then I would have handed you the gun and you would have done the right thing. No matter." He pointed the gun at Dana. "Sorry my dear but you really are very stupid and I very much want your husband’s business."

Skinner looked down at Scully and she saw the pain of eternal loss in his eyes. She stretched up on tiptoes to kiss him. As their lips met, the blast of the gun, no longer muffled by anything exploded around them.

Dana froze. She had no idea what had happened. One minute she had been ready to swoon in Albert’s embrace and the next she was in her husband’s embrace, lips tight against his. The blast shook her out of her stupor and she turned around.

Walter let her turn, but held her tight. He had been aware of every thought, every action and knew that for a brief time he had not been alone. Someone or something had joined with him and helped him to see reason. He had felt a tight control that he had only somewhat mastered in his life. But he also had felt what that control had cost his companion? Guardian angel? He tore his eyes from his beloved and looked into the shocked glance of the security man.

"He was going to kill you, sir."

"Thank you." Walter breathed. "Dana?"

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"Quite all right, now."

They heard the shouts and the bounding of feet on the stairs. His arms tightly around her, Skinner led his wife out of the murder room and down the stairs. They met the Senator in the foyer.

"Walter, come at once! My men have found something most disturbing." He led them around the staircase to the door leading to the basement. "I’ve long suspected Charles Spender of chicanery, but I could never prove it. Now see what my men found."

In the basement, three of the Senator’s men stood around a forth. He was a pretty man with a feral cruel look about him. One of the men told what they knew. "Says his name is Krycek and that he works for Mr. Spender. Said Mr. Spender told him to set the charges so that the room above would go up in an explosion."

"Why damn you!" Skinner stepped forward.

"Said he wanted your money. Said he would make sure you and your wife died. Then when your nieces died there would be no one left to inherit directly but your cousin. He already controls her so he would get what he wanted. Now let me go."

As Skinner’s fist connected with Krycek’s jaw he felt the other leave him.

"Nooo! Nooo! She is mine! Mine! I will never give her up! She is mine!" the words echoed in the darkness.

Struggling to his feet Skinner realized that he was no longer inside his other self nor was he back in his body. Standing, he shivered against the bitter cold wind that was cutting into his skin, his clothing offering no resistance to it. Looking around, he was unable to see even the slightest outline or shape in the encompassing darkness. Wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to ward off the cold Skinner began to walk hoping to come in contact with something. A wall, a building even a tree. The words that he had heard as he woke were now rising in volume filling his ears with their venom. Stumbling along in the dark Skinner was buffeted by the ever increasing wind. Tripping over something Skinner heard a muffled 'Oompf' as he fell to his hands and knees. Turning toward the general direction of the sound Skinner searched the area, his hands falling on a what felt like a leg. Following it up his fingers traced the outline of a hip, a waist, a soft curve of a breast before coming to rest finally on a shoulder. Moving closer to the unknown person laying near him he knew in an instant who it was.

Scully!

Dana!

Her scent filled his nostrils as his fingers moved to her face, checking for any injury. Hearing her soft moans in response to his explorations he shifted so that her upper body rested against his chest, his arms securely around her.

"Dana, wake up," Skinner instructed, rubbing her arms to keep her warm. "Come on, wake up."

Opening her eyes, Dana could not see anything but felt Skinner behind her. "I'm awake. Where are we?" she asked, looking around, trying to see something, anything!

"I don't know. I think we are stuck somewhere in between the past and the present. I . . .¼" he tried to continue but was cut off by the shrill shouting of a voice.

"She is mine! Mine! You will never have her! She is mine!" it shouted increasing in volume until neither Skinner or Dana could hear anything else.

The feeling of fear gnawed at Dana's belly -- she knew that voice, had experienced it before! It was Albert or the thing that was now him. Dana struggled out of Skinner's grip, jumping to her feet. Yanking on Skinner's arm she tried to yell at him to hurry but her voice was drowned out by the wind and that voice. Grabbing his hand she pulled him up, yanking at him in a desperate struggle to get him to run. Finally understanding the urgency of Dana's actions, Skinner ran, keeping an almost death like grip between their two hands.

They needed to get out of here and back to their bodies. They needed to get back now! Racing thru the dark, she and Skinner stumbled over the terrain, tripping and falling only to struggle back to their feet to begin running once more.

Skinner could feel the limbs of dead trees smack him in the face, scratching his cheeks in their rush to escape. He felt them tear at his shirt when he yanked away from their reaching grasp. He fought hard to keep on his feet, pushing his senses forward, trying to hear what little he could over the howling wind and the maniacal voice. Feeling Dana stumble once more he grabbed her upper arm, yanking her to her feet. Pushing her in front of him, he kept one hand on her shoulder while the other tried to push unseen branches out of their path.

Plowing into Dana's suddenly stopped body Skinner grabbed her around the waist, pulling her toward his chest in a bid to keep her from falling. Grabbing the back of his neck she pulled his head down to her, yelling in his ear. Skinner was unable to make out what she was saying. He tried to answer her, but his voice was carried away on the howling wind. Frustrated at not being able to make him understand Dana grabbed his face, turning it toward the sight she was seeing. Off in the distance, there their was a weak light. A light that looked for all the world like a single candle flickering in the wind. Understanding what Dana had been trying to tell him, Skinner squeezed her hand in response.

Heading in the direction of the weak light, Skinner held fast to Dana's hand, his lifeline. The wind began to howl louder, whipping against them, trying to knock them off balance. It pushed at their bodies, forcing them back from the ever strengthening light. Bending almost double, Skinner held fast to Dana as they fought their way through the wind. Just when Skinner was sure that he would not be able to fight any longer, the wind suddenly died, and the voice became silent. Standing up straight, he looked over at Dana, surprised to find that she was visible in the low light. He could see the scratches on her arms and neck. Her shirt was torn in a few places and her hair was a mess. He was sure that he looked just as bad.

"Now what?" he asked looking around and trying to determine what they needed to do next.

"Now you die," came the words out of the surrounding darkness. Turning in the direction of voice they watched as Albert Dartmouth entered the light.

Dana could feel the terror steeling up her spine as she looked into the face of evil. Evil she hadn’t experienced since Donnie Pfaster. Evil that the two separate men seemed to share. Evil personified!

Trying to calm her ragged breathing and control the urge to flee, she moved closer to Walter. Walter didn't look down at her, but moved so his body was between Dana and the evil that was Dartmouth.

"She is mine you know" Albert explained, speaking as if he were instructing a five- year- old. "She has always been mine and she will remain mine. Nothing you do can change that. I have won, just as I always have."

"Like hell you have," Skinner growled, his tight control rapidly disintegrating. "We stopped you! You lost! Dana is not yours nor has she ever been yours," Skinner finished. He could feel the slight tug of the light. At first he thought it was his imagination but as they moved closer to it, the pull strengthened. He knew if he could get Dana near enough to the light she would be pulled back into her body. She would be safe. Dartmouth would not be able to harm her directly in the physical world. He didn't question how he knew this -- just that he did. His faith had never been strong, but this time it would not just be faith he was acting on, it would be love too.

"That is where you are wrong Skinner," Albert responded. "I've won. Your little effort failed. You are trapped here. Your bodies are giving up, your hearts are slowing, your breathing is getting shallow. Soon they will stop functioning completely, and when that happens I will have my revenge on you and Dana will be mine!"

"No, Dartmouth, it will be you who loses," Skinner responded. Taking his eyes off Dartmouth for an instant, Skinner pushed Dana into the light. The cry of ‘no’ was echoed by two voices, one in rage and the other in denial.

Turning quickly, Walter was unable to avoid the flying tackle from Dartmouth. Hurling Walter to the ground, Dartmouth reached out, grabbing Dana's wrist, preventing her escape from this limbo. Clawing at Dartmouth’s the vice-like grip, of Dartmouth's Dana tried to wrench her hand free.

"Nooo . . . ¼you are mine! Mine! I shall never let you go!" Dartmouth yelled as he pulled Dana to him. Grabbing her lower arm with his other hand Albert yanked her closer, desperate to keep her from escaping!

Grabbing at Dartmouth's hands, Walter struggled to force him to release Dana. Pulling at his fingers, Walter pried them off Dana's hand and arm. Finally succeeding he shoved Dartmouth away, watching as Dana dissipated, returning to her body.

"Nooo!" Albert cried. "Noooo!" Turning to Skinner, Albert stood, hatred emanating off him in waves. "You bastard! She was mine and you took her away! I'll kill you for that!" he shouted, lunging for Skinner.

Diving for the light Skinner watched in horrid fascination as Albert was stopped in mid-lunge. A look of horror crossed Albert's face as the darkness began to move toward him. "No, stay back! Get away! No!" he screamed, fighting and clawing at the encroaching darkness. Skinner watched as the darkness seemed to envelop Dartmouth. All the while Dartmouth screamed in terror. As his head disappeared beneath the wave of blackness, Skinner averted his eyes, the horror of the sight much more than he could bear. Silence once again filled the space he occupied. Not wanting to know what was in the darkness and ready to return to his body, Skinner stepped closer to the light until he felt himself falling. Closing his eyes he returned to his body.

Dana opened her eyes, extremely grateful to see something so mundane as the kitchen cabinets. Rubbing her hands over her face she slowly made her way to her feet, knowing from previous experience that she would be dizzy. Waiting for the dizziness to subside, she walked around the table to Walter's side. Lifting his head off the table she checked his pulse, remembering what Albert had said about their bodies shutting down. Pleased to find a strong pulse, Dana gently massaged Walter's neck, waiting for him to return to consciousness.

"Am I alive?" he moaned, squeezing his eyes tight against the pounding of his head.

"In my professional opinion I would have to say yes," Dana responded, unable to keep the smile out of her voice.

"Oh good. I would hate to spend eternity with a pounding headache," Walter groaned. Tilting his head back he looked up into the face of Dana. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

Closing his eyes once more for a brief moment he murmured "Good, good." Opening his eyes again he continued, "I think we need to see if we can get out of here now."

Releasing Walter's neck, Dana moved away from him, allowing him room to stand. But kept close enough just in case she had to grab him to keep him from falling. Her dizziness had dissipated swiftly, but she had no idea how long his would remain. Getting to his feet, Walter felt the world tilt sharply. Planting his hands on the surface of the table, he took a few deep breaths trying to quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Feeling the light touch on his arm, he turned to gaze into the concern features of Dana. Smiling a brief smile of assurance, he took a series of deep breaths, pleased to find that the overwhelming nausea was relinquishing its hold on him. Feeling his sense of balance returning, he straightened, moving away from the table. Grabbing his jacket while Dana gathered her pack and their flashlights, the two of them made their way out of the kitchen and down the hall to the foyer, intent on seeing if they would be allowed to leave.

Stopping just in front of the front door, Walter shared a look with Dana that said 'here goes nothing' and turned the front doorknob. Both released pent up breaths when the door swung wide open without even a squeak from the hinges. Walking through the doorway, they stepped out onto the front porch, enjoying the crisp predawn air. Looking down at Dana, Walter grabbed her hand, squeezing it in relief at their escape. Walking hand in hand down the steps, Walter led them to his car, holding the door to the passenger side open for Dana. "We'll come back for your car," he explained as Dana nodded in agreement, sliding into the passenger seat.

Closing the door, he walked around to the drivers side, opening it. Shrugging his jacket off, he tossed it into the back before sliding in and starting the car. Looking over at Dana he nodded slightly, put the car in reverse, headed down the driveway and away from the house.

~*****~

Neither spoke on the drive back to the city. Dana simply watched the scenery flow by as Walter drove. She just looked at him when he took the turnoff for Crystal City rather than head to her home. She did not say a word as he pulled into the parking garage of his condo building. Neither spoke as they rode the elevator up to his apartment. The only sound that was heard was the rattle of his keys as he opened the door, stepping aside to allow her to enter.

Dropping her backpack, and jacket and kicking her shoes off, Dana trudged up the stairs to Walter's bedroom. She wanted to sleep, in a bed, and she was going to, no matter what! Walter would just have to deal with her sharing his bed. Slipping her t-shirt and pants off she tossed them onto the chair before slipping in between the cool sheets. Closing her eyes, she fell asleep immediately.

Staring down at the woman in his bed, Walter was too tired to wonder about the why's, wherefor's or consequences of her sleeping in his bed. Loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, he pulled them off, tossing them in the general direction of the chair. Pulling his t-shirt over his head he tossed that toward the chair, followed by his pants and socks. Clad only in his boxers he slipped into bed beside Dana, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

A familiar smell tickled Dana's nose as she woke. 'Coffee, mmmm . . ¼. smells good,' she thought blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Stretching and yawning loudly she sat up, looking around the room. She noted that the bedroom's owner was nowhere to be seen but in his absence he had left a pile of clothes that she assumed were for her. Climbing out of the bed she padded across the carpet to look at the selection he had left. She was surprised to find that the clothes were hers. Jeans, t-shirt, socks, undergarments, even shoes were neatly packed. He had even found her small necessary bag that contained her shampoo, toothbrush and various other toiletries.

Amazing! He had forgotten nothing. She really must have been sleeping soundly if she had not heard him dress and leave. Warmed by his thoughtfulness, she grabbed her stuff and headed to take a long hot shower.

Turning the exhaust fan on afterward, Dana brushed her teeth, humming to herself. She couldn't explain why she was so happy. After all they had gone through, she was sure that the feelings of happiness -- almost giddiness -- were somehow inappropriate. They had almost died.

"No, correct that! We were almost killed by a crazed entity," she whispered softly. That in itself should have made her feel anxious, but instead all she felt was happiness. 'Maybe I am suffering from PTSD' she thought for a moment, then dismissed the likelihood of it almost immediately. She wasn't suppressing the memories of what happened, but at the same time they did not cause her any undue anxiety. Flipping the blowdryer on, Dana continued her silent musings as she dried her hair.

Turning the dryer off Dana ran the brush through her hair once more, taming it into her normal style. Unplugging the dryer, she placed it and the rest of her toiletries back into the carry-all bag she’d found near the stack of clothes Walter had laid out for her. Flicking the light switch off, she walked out of the bathroom and straight into Walter's arms.

Smothering an un-FBI 'eep,' she felt her face redden in embarrassment.

"Sorry," Walter said, holding her arms, unconsciously caressing them. "I called you but you didn't answer, so I came up to see if you were ready to eat."

"I was blowdrying my hair. I didn't hear you."

"Hmm . . ¼. that's okay. Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Hungry?"

"Umm . . . yes I am. Just let me put this down." She gestured to the bag in her hand.

"Here let me take that." Tossing it over in the general direction of the chair, Walter replaced his hand on her upper arm once more.

Trying to keep her voice level Dana asked "Are we going to . . . ?"

"Are we going to what?" Walter asked enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips.

"Eat?"

"Eventually," he answered.

"Eventually?" Dana repeated, entranced by the look in Walter's eyes.

"Yes, eventually. But first I want to do something," Walter explained, moving closer. "I've wanted to do this since I shared our other selves memories," he murmured as he settled his lips onto Dana's.

Surprised at first, Dana enthusiastically joined in the kiss, slipping her arms up and around his neck to pull him closer. Opening her lips to allow him entrance to her mouth, Dana moaned at the heat that his kiss generated. Breaking their kiss gently, Walter looked down at Dana asking, "Are you still hungry? Because if you are we can . . . .¼"

Placing her finger on his lips, she silenced him, drawing in a harsh breath as he nibbled on her finger. "I am and we still need to talk, but I think that can wait for a little while," she responded, kissing him.

Sparring with Dana's tongue, Walter ran his hands down her spine, tracing the delicate curve gently with his fingertips. Reaching her soft cotton panties, he traced the waistband before slipping both hands over the cloth that covered her butt. Pulling her closer, he rubbed her mons against the zipper of his jeans while his hands massaged her buttocks, gently squeezing them in a rhythmic motion. Not breaking their kiss, he lifted her in his arms carrying her the few short feet to the bed.

Letting her slide down the front of him, Walter groaned at the feel of her, his already hard erection increasing in strength. His plan had been to show her how he felt slowly, methodically, until she could no longer deny his feelings. But the intensity of his attraction to her had caused his well-thought-out plan to fly straight out the window. Now, instead of seducing her slowly, Walter wanted nothing more than too slide into her warm heat and pound her into the mattress. Now he knew how his counterpart had felt when he was presented with the other Dana. -- how he could have erroneously believed he had raped his wife. If his reaction was even one-third the reaction that Walter was feeling now, it was amazing that the other Dana had survived the night.

Watching as Dana lay down on the bed and feeling her pull him closer to her, Walter hesitated for a moment deciding that perhaps bedding Dana right now was not such a good idea. In fact, ever bedding Dana may not be a good idea. He could feel what little control he had slipping away, and he did not want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. Seeing her look of confusion at his hesitation he tried to put into words his fears for her safety. He could think of no way to voice his fears.

Dana looked up at the man who had come to mean more to her than even she realized at first. Somehow in all the time she had known him, he had gone from being a possible enemy to being a good friend. Now, thanks to an old curse and a haunted house, he had become even more special to her. He had now become part of her heart and soul. Actually, if she were truly honest with herself, she would admit that even before the house and curse he had become part of her heart. His strength had been what had kept her going in those dark days of Mulder's abduction, throughout her pregnancy, to William's adoption. He had always been there, supporting her unselfishly. Now she had the chance to show him how much he had come to mean to her, and she would be dammed if she would allow some outdated sense of gallantry to prevent her from showing him. Besides, if he was anything like his counterpart, she would be only need to nudge him a bit. -- then she and he would be very satisfied.

Getting up on her knees, Dana took Walter's face in her hands, pulling it forward. Kissing him softly, she whispered, "I trust you." Hearing those words from her, Walter crushed her lips under his, his fears evaporating completely. Releasing her for a moment, Walter pulled his shirt off over his head knocking his glasses askew. Pulling them off, he set them down on the bedside table before toeing off his shoes, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband he pulled both his jeans and briefs off in one motion, removing his socks at the same time. Placing one knee on the bed, he followed Dana down until he lay partially on top of her. Kissing her slowly, he caressed her skin, delighting in her moans of pleasure. Unable to feel more of her skin, he shifted his weight until he was now underneath her.

Running his fingertips over the softness skin of her back, he stopped when he felt the fabric of her bra. Slipping his fingers under it he deftly unsnapped it, caressing the exposed area of skin. Trailing his fingers up, he hooked his index fingers under the straps, pulling them down her arms. Not breaking their kiss, Dana moved first one arm, then the other, sliding the straps off completely. Lifting her chest a bit, she grabbed the bra, tossing it away. Sighing softly, she enjoyed the feel of his soft chest hair against her sensitive nipples.

Sliding off of Walter's chest, Dana shifted their positions, she lying once more underneath. Looking down at the woman below him, Walter ran his fingers up her side to the underside of her breast. Caressing the soft underside, he moved his fingers up, pulling her nipple to a taut peak. Swooping down, he took the taut bud in his mouth, suckling and nipping at until Dana begged for him to stop. Leaving her breasts, he trailed his tongue down her stomach to swirl inside her bellybutton. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, Dana lifted her hips as he ripped her panties, off revealing the patch of auburn hair that hid her center.

Breathing in her exotic scent, Walter felt his penis throb in appreciation. There was so much he wanted to do. He wanted to know what she tasted like. He wanted to hear her scream his name as he pleasured her with his tongue. He wanted to feel her lips around his cock, sucking him as he lapped at her juices. He wanted to experience all these things, but he knew that they would have to wait. His control was slipping. He needed to be inside her now! Moving to lay between her legs, he rubbed his penis against her moist center, pleased when he heard her growl her demand at him.

"Yes¼ . . . fuck me Walter¼ . . . now!" Dana growled, needing to feel him inside her. She knew that they had had almost no foreplay, but she didn’t think she could stand long foreplay. She wanted Walter, needed him inside her now, and no amount of foreplay could match the already overwhelming need that burned in her. Grabbing Walter's shoulders, she pulled him down onto her, keening loudly when she felt his shaft enter her.

Feeling her warmth surround him, Walter stilled for a moment before pulling out and thrusting back into Dana. Locking her ankles around his flanks, Dana matched Walter's rhythm as he pounded into her. Arching into Walter, Dana’s breaths came in short gasps. The heat of her impending orgasm caused her skin to flush in a soft pink. Feeling the telltale tightening of her womb, Dana raked her nails down Walter's back, urging him on. Using short, fast strokes that hit her clitoris on every in stroke, Walter felt her orgasm moments before he shouted his release, collapsing on top of Dana.

~*****~

Looking at Walter as he drove, Dana allowed her mind to drift back over the last 24 hours. After making love almost the whole day, they had finally had a chance to eat and talk. They talked about everything, both past and present, finally burying a lot of their old ghosts. Deciding to wait until morning to retrieve her car, they went back to bed, making slow sensual love long into the night.

After finishing their breakfast at the small diner they had found on their way to get her car, they were now almost at the old house where it had all began.

Seeing the two cars and a minivan parked in the driveway of the once-deserted house, Dana turned to Walter, confusion clearly showing on her face.

"I don't know either," Walter answered her unspoken question. "Let's see what they have to say."

"Okay," Dana responded.

Pulling up into the drive, Walter parked the car before getting out and walking around to open Dana's door. Squeezing her hand in reassurance, they walked toward the house. Walking up the steps, they stopped as a young voice said, "Hi."

Turning, Walter looked down at the young girl that walked toward them. "Hello, my name is Walter and this is Dana," he said, gesturing to Dana. "Do you live here?" he asked kneeling down so that he was eye level to her.

"Yes, I do. Is that your car that was left here?" she asked, pointing in the direction of Dana's car. "Great-Gram said that someone must have had car trouble. We only got home this morning. We had to pick up Great-Gram from the airport. She was coming back from visiting her cousins." Looking up at Dana the little girl added, "You're very pretty."

"Thank you," Dana replied. "Do you think we might speak to your mommy or your Great-Gram?"

"Sure," she answered, running into the house hollering for her mother. Moments later they saw a woman in her mid -30's walk toward them. Smiling in greeting, she introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Hope. You must be the owners of the car that was left here. Come in," she said, turning to walk into the house. Looking back over her shoulder, she added, "Sorry no one was home when you were originally here, but we, Maggie and I, were at my sister's, and Gram was visiting cousins. I didn’t catch your names. Sorry, it's kind of hectic here today. Unpacking and settling back in. Come in, please."

Finding his voice once more Walter responded "Thank you. I am Walter Skinner and this is Dana Scully. We¼" Walter and Dana stared at the elderly woman who was making her way to them. She looked exactly like Charity, the resemblance was remarkable.

"Gram, this is Walter Skinner and Dana Scully. They are the owners of the car that was left here. I just invited them in for some tea," Hope explained, smiling at the elderly woman.

Smiling in response she replied, eyes twinkling in merriment. "Walter, Dana, it is so good to see you. Please do come in, we have so much to discuss."

THE END

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