Silent Night, Painful Sight

By XSketch
XSketch@hotmail.com


WEBSITE: http://thesketchfiles.bravehost.com
RATING: R - Violent content and language
CLASSIFICATION: X, MSR, MT, ST, A
SPOILERS: Lots of nods to VS episodes, but nothing from the show.
SUMMARY: Just another little trip to the forest, really -
cannibalism, thick snow...oh, and an evil Santa Claus.  Just what
Mulder and Scully really wanted at Christmas instead of spending
time together at home!
DISCLAIMER: CC and Fox own 'em - I just like to play with them :)
ARCHIVE: Two weeks exclusive to Virtual Season 14, and then it's
yours as long as you let me know where and keep my name attached.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Mucho kudos to Lisa and Vickie for the great, speedy
beta, the constant pokes, the support and the ending - YOU ROCK!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

----------
TEASER
----------

Wide, fearful eyes blink back the sting of ice particles.  
Chattering teeth bite back against searing, unending pain that will
bring the body down if the small plates of enamel fail to keep up
their task.  Brow sweats, lungs wheeze, heart thuds frantically with
a maddening beat that may have the power to set it free from the
confines of its chest cavity very soon, legs pump despite the
constant flow of blood and deep, slippery snow underfoot.

Mind dwells on one, solo thought:

'Why the hell did I leave my gun behind?'

As fresh powder is kicked into the air - spraying every which way -
the tall, dark figure desperately forges ahead.  He stumbles several
times, and even drops to a knee at one point as the unbearable pain,
cold and exhaustion tear at and overwhelm his senses, yet still he
shakily regains his footing and rushes ever further onward, crashing
through a low curtain of spindly tree branches.

Only to come to an unexpected halt at the fallen pine blocking his
escape.

*Shit!*

Short shallow breaths fog the silent air as the figure contemplates
all available options, but before he's had chance to decide on a new
route, the sound of chasing footfalls crunching the crisp snow echo
in his ears and he knows jumping the log is the only realistic
choice.  Biting down on his lip even harder, he gathers what little
strength he has left and makes a vaulting leap over the obstruction.

...Except, his foot slips, and there's a loud thud followed by a
bone-jarring, throbbing pain in his groin as both legs straddle
either side of the tree trunk.  Eyes begin to water profusely and
there's no fight left in him to ward off the inevitable cloak of
unconsciousness, so he lets it claim him, certain that it will
shortly be followed by his death.

"Sculleeee......."

As the prone figure of Special Agent Fox William Mulder slides to
the ground, a large man pushes through the mesh of branches ten feet
away - blood-red smearing his thick white beard - and then looks
hungrily at his next meal.

XxXxXxXxX
----------
ACT ONE
----------

42 HOURS EARLIER

As a rule, it had become almost customary for just about anything
and everything to go wrong - particularly in conjunction with
special occasions or when plans had been made - so as a guy that had
ignored pretty much all the rules in the book over the years,
Mulder'd be damned if he was gonna let this one go by unbroken with
a perfect average for yet another year.

No hospitals or bedside vigils.  No family interruptions.  No
explosions or car crashes or gun shots.  No cases.

He didn't care what it took, even if that entailed tightly wrapping
padding around every single thing in their duplex: this was gonna be
*the* best Christmas that they'd spent together, if not ever - just
him, Scully and the overweight turkey they'd managed to leave
untouched over the Thanksgiving holiday and keep hidden at the
bottom of their chest freezer.

"Excellent," he smiled to himself, stepping back and proudly
surveying the room as he finished putting up the last Christmas
decoration.  They'd both shared the task of finding and erecting the
eight foot tree last week like excitable children (though Scully
would deny that part), but work had gotten in the way of the rest of
the regalia being tended to, so when his partner had been called to
the Bureau for what they could only guess was an unseasonable audit
assessment for their division, Mulder had promised to have the place
finished by the time she got back.

"That's it!  I quit!"

Mulder sharply turned on his heel at the sound of the front door
slamming shut and stared in worried bewilderment at his partner as
she stormed into the room, threw both handbag and car keys onto the
coffee table and then dejectedly dropped herself onto the couch.

"I don't care what truths we haven't uncovered or whatever - we can
go 'independent renegade' for all I care!" she exclaimed, waving
both hands in the air.  "I'm not having them completely screwing
with us one more day!  I quit!"

A little disappointed that his efforts of the day had gone unnoticed
(although he doubted she'd even realized he was actually in the
room), Mulder sighed and moved to sit down beside her.  By the sound
of it, it had been the dreaded audit after all.

"'Hi, honey!' to you too," he joked, leaning in to nudge against her
arm.  "What happened?  Did they accuse us of spending too much on
pencils?"

There was silence as Dana stared blankly at the space in front of
her and mulled over this afternoon's meeting with Deputy Director
Wallace.  Time and time again they'd had to put the job before their
personal needs and lives, so much so that she'd stupidly let herself
believe that this once - this one insignificant Christmas when
everything was working out right for a change - they'd be given a
restful respite.

Obviously an even higher power than believed possible was against
them.

"Scully?"

"Our vacation time has officially been cut short," she finally
grumbled, wiping at her face with both hands.

Mulder let out an uncomfortable snort of laughter. "Wha-at?"

"The Bureau has decided our work is so invaluable that three days
before Christmas they're sending us on an 'urgent' case somewhere in
the wintry wilderness of Colorado."  Her head turned and she watched
the disbelief and anger vie for supremacy of his senses as his
facial features contorted.  "You've pulled some sneaky ones in the
past, but I'm afraid you've been beat by this one."

"Skinner--"

"Trust me, I've already had rather sharp words with him, but his
hands are tied - the order has come direct from Deputy Director
Wallace and there's nothing he can do to out-rank her.  I just
wish--... Oh, what's the point?  Every time something happens we say
'we won't make plans next time', but..."  Reluctantly sealing their
fates, Scully stood up.  "I'm gonna go get changed - the thoughtful
DD kindly booked us on an 8PM flight."  Her hand lingered
momentarily on his crest of hair.  "...And you'd done such a
beautiful job with the decorations..."

As their bedroom door clicked shut behind her, Mulder grabbed for
his basketball and threw it across the room.

"*Dammit*!"
 
XxXxXxXxX

EN ROUTE TO WYNTACK, COLORADO
8:43AM

If he'd been pissed at just the thought of being sent on a case
three days before Christmas, Mulder was certainly not far from
downright outraged and ready to shoot someone in the ass by the time
Scully had finished filling him in on why they had actually been
sent to the tiny town out in the wilds of Colorado.  Of course, he
had to concede that he'd sent them on some pretty wild goose chases
in the past, but he couldn't see the motive behind one of the Powers
That Be sending them to investigate an obvious case of cannibalism
that had nothing to do with them and could easily be handled just by
the local law enforcement.

"It's gotta be a trap."

"Mulder, you think everything's a trap unless you hand-picked the
case."

"So, you don't find this at all suspicious?"

"Of course I do!  But I live in fear of what your next injury will
be enough as it is - if I dwell on this too much, it'll drive me
mad.  Let's just catch the perp and get back to D.C as soon as
possible so that we can actually wake up Christmas morning in our
own bed, okay?"

"I knew we should have gone to your mother's again this year...
Thanksgiving at Skinner's instead of in our own company no doubt
doomed us..."

They'd reluctantly taken the pre-arranged late flight out to Denver
International yesterday (noting also that it was just their luck
that it wasn't one of the hundreds that had been cancelled), and
then stopped at a nearby hotel for the night, refusing to tackle the
icy, treacherous roads in the pitch black - in broad daylight was
proving difficult enough.  Now, as their rental carefully made its
way across the white, unpopulated wasteland, Mulder couldn't avoid
the unsettling feeling in his gut that they should turn back.

Scully was experiencing the same sickening sensation, but as much as
she'd come to trust it in the past, she knew they had no choice but
to do their jobs.

"I still say it's a trap," Mulder grumbled, tightening his grasp on
the steering wheel.  "Who is this Deputy Director Wallace anyway?"  
From the picture Dana had painted him yesterday, the stranger was
nothing more than an insufferable bitch, but considering his
partner's mood since she'd returned from the FBI building, even a
description of her mother would have had him conjuring up images of
the Wicked Witch of The East in his head.  "Was she transferred from
somewhere else or promoted?"  He diverted his gaze from the road
momentarily to shoot a glance in her direction.

Letting out a deep sigh, Dana closed the folder she'd been looking
through yet again for any clues that would explain their impromptu
involvement with a two-week old cold case involving the discovery of
a family of four by a hiker in the local woods, who had then
reported his bloody find to the city cops in Denver instead of
Wyntack's lone sheriff.  According to the pathologist's report, the
bodies had been bitten by what appeared to be human teeth marks, and
the chests had been sliced open by a hunting knife, after which
varying organs had been 'scooped out' from each.  By all accounts,
the local FBI field office hadn't been informed of the
investigation, let alone involved, and the DPD held little hope that
any suspects would be found as a light snow flurry had erased any
footprints or evidence at the scene.

Basically, they were too busy with 'more important', easier-to-solve
crimes that were actually covered by their jurisdiction, and the
deceased didn't have any other family, so......

None of this made sense, and her doubt about following orders seemed
more and more founded as the mileage constantly clocked up.

"Scully?"

"I told you alread--"

*BANG!**BANG!*

The car suddenly lurched and fish-tailed violently for ten hundreds
of a second before losing ground on a patch of ice and spinning
completely out of control.  Mulder used his lightning-fast reactions
to tug at the steering wheel and try to right the vehicle's forward
motion, but the sideways incline of the mountainous region's sparse
road network and the below-freezing treacherous conditions made it
impossible.

And he knew all was lost.

As he moved to shield his beloved partner from the inevitability of
what would follow, the rental swerved one more time, hit a bank of
snow and flipped once, twice, and then came to a halt...

On all four wheels.

XxXxXxXxX

FBI HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON, D.C

Walter Skinner sat down at his desk, ready to start his last day at
work before a two-week holiday vacation, when he noticed the copy of
the case file his two best agents had just been sent to investigate
lying in the middle of the wooden surface.

'No doubt they will come running to you to complain-'

'I'm their superior.'

'Maybe, but you're also an assistant director of the Federal Bureau
of Investigation.  You have a responsibility to the work which far
exceeds your favoritism of two troublesome agents.  They are
employed to accept assignments, and that's what they will do.'

'Their 'assignment' is to the X-Files, investigating bizarre cases.  
This is for somebody at VCU, not them.'

'We'll see.  Just be assured that if you insist on fighting me on
this, you won't have a job to let you run to their defence.'

He felt a shiver run up and down his spine as he recalled the
encounter with the newly-appointed deputy director yesterday
morning.  Of course, Scully had come to him about it after her own
meeting, but he was powerless - only able to wish that his two
friends could be left alone to enjoy the festive season for a change.

Or was he?

As the conversation repeated itself once more in his memory and he
toyed with the corner of the folder, Skinner realized that the best
way to help his agents right now was to do some investigating of his
own, from the safety of his office.  He quickly stood back up and
opened the office door.

"Kim?" he started in a hushed tone, leaning towards his assistant's
desk, where she sat sorting through some paperwork.

Her head snapped up at the sound.  "Yes, sir?"

"I, um...I need you to find out as much information for me as you
can about Deputy Director Deborah Wallace.  Do you think you can do
that?  As discreetly as possible?"

The redhead hesitated for a moment.  "Of course, sir.  Is this to do
with the case Agents Mulder and Scully have been sent on?"

"If I answer that you'll be in possession of too much information.  
Let's just call it a 'background check' for now, okay?"

She gave a nod and reached for the phone as Skinner smiled his
appreciation and then disappeared back into his office.

XxXxXxXxX

From a perch high in the Wyntack Forest, two tired, aging eyes
blinked against the sunlight as it reflected against the end of the
figure's high-powered binoculars, and then lips pulled back in a
crooked grin to reveal blood-stained teeth as on the road a day's
trek away, a maroon sedan swerved and then flipped over several
times.

Not wasting any time, the large figure quickly packed the binoculars
away and reached for the red suit neatly laid out on the crisp snow.

It was time for the show to begin.

XxXxXxXxX

"Mulder?"

He blinked several times, disorientated and mistaking the air-filled
bag his face was snugly pressed against for his bed pillow at home,
until the freezing chill of the air stabbing at his skin registered
and dragged him back to reality...as well as the pain radiating from
the left side of hairline.

"Mulder, are you okay?"

A groan to assure Scully he was at least alive, and then he lifted
his head to check she was more than 'fine'. "A little daunted by
this moment of deja vu and pissed that with fifty inches of snow on
the ground, Lariat couldn't provide us with a rental that actually
had chains...Other than that, I'm fine,"  He noticed her wince and
shift uncomfortably in her seat.  "How about you?"

Dana shifted yet again, knowing she couldn't - and didn't want to,
anyway - lie.  There was a razor sharp sting tearing down her arm
whenever she moved, and she needed to check it but there was a sense
of fear niggling at her.

Dreading the worst, Mulder quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and moved
to examine her.  And that was when he spotted the large shard of
glass from the shattered window on her side of the vehicle
protruding from the top of her left arm - blood seeping out in
copious amounts, but thankfully slowed by the offending item acting
as a plug.  Panic rapidly shifted to something much greater as he
struggled to think of the best thing to do to help his partner.  
"Shit, Scully...Why didn't you rouse me a lot sooner and tell me?"

"You were only out for ten seconds!" she unexpectedly snapped,
gritting her teeth against a wave of nausea.  It subsided after a
moment, and she stared at the worried expression wrought on Mulder's
face.  "I'm sorry.  I'm...I'm sorry, Mulder.  I--...I know I've been
a little distant since I got back from the meeting yesterday, but I
don't know how to explain how I've been feeling or what's been going
through my head.  I have the same suspicions as you about Wallace,
just as I have questions about the missing gaps in this report, but
we're in a Catch 22 situation - They know how much off our radar
this invesyigation is and, with Christmas coming up, the
inconvenience it will cause by sending us on it, but that we're also
walking a thin line and that if we refuse this assignment They have
grounds to fire us."  Scully sighed, resigned, and tentatively leant
in to rest against the comforting, solid frame of his body.  "And I
know you worry about me, I'm--"

"Just tell me what to do," he whispered against her hair, glancing
once again at the slice cutting through her thick winter jacket and
muscle.

She gave an accepting nod and sat up, swivelling in her seat as best
she could so that he had better access to the injured arm.  "I need
you to pull it out at the right angle."

"But if I pull it out--"

"It'll do further damage whether it's left or not.  Just remove it
at the angle it's going in and get some snow to press against it -
it'll help to slow the bleeding and wash the wound at the same time."

"But Scully--"

"Mulder, please."  She paused to wince against the excessive pain
again.  Over the years - thanks to frequent medical emergency
hospital visits (or 'The dreaded gurney treks' as Mulder
unaffectionately called them) - Scully had acquired a very high pain
threshold, but this little injury, which paled in comparison to many
she'd had before, was causing an unbelievable amount of discomfort
that she couldn't avoid.  "If it's left there, one wrong move and
it'll be buried all the way in."

With a reluctant nod, Mulder took off his padded gloves - shivering
slightly as the cold air bit at the newly-exposed skin - and leant
in to pinch the end of the glass fragment between the thumb and
forefinger of his right hand.  He gave her one last questioning
look, and then in one swift move he pulled the shard out.  Scully
snatched in a breath and hissed as her right hand shot up to clutch
at the wound, from where the where was beginning to flow a lot more
freely.

"Holy shit," Mulder gasped, watching her and then diverting his
attention to the two-inch length that had been buried in her arm.

"Mulder?...Snow?"

He looked back up at her, realized what she was saying, and quickly
turned to open the driver's side door and scoop up a ball of the
white powder thickly blanketing the land.

At least, he would have, had the snow not been packed against the
door and stopped him from opening it.

"Oh, for--"  His voice trailed off as he awkwardly squeezed between
the two front seats to get into the back of the car.  An attempt at
the left back door proved more promising and he managed to force it
open far enough for one of them to escape should they need to.  As
soon as he had a handful of snow, Mulder quickly moved to sit beside
his partner, who had removed both her jackets to expose the deep
lesion, again.  He wanted to comment on the large amount of red
liquid bathing her arm, but thought better of it - knowing that
upsetting her more right now was not a wise idea - and promptly
placed the freezing ball against the injury, holding the pressure
there as hard as possible for a silent moment.  "You hold that," he
instructed, letting up on what was quickly becoming a slushy mess so
that she could replace his hand with her free, slightly trembling,
one.  "I'm just gonna get the first-aid kit of the trunk - I won't
be a second, I promise."

She didn't respond.

"*Scully*?"

That got her attention, and her head snapped up to stare at him -
teeth chattering as the frosty air entered through the back of the
car and wrapped itself around her small, thinly clothed frame.

"Stay with me, okay?"  He gently kissed her forehead.

At her acknowledgement, Mulder hurriedly left the car via the back
door, but slowed to assess the situation.  All four tyres were
deflated, and the vehicle had landed at an angle so that the nose
was essentially buried in the snow.  As he reached the trunk, he
looked out at the road and shuddered at the harrowing sight of the
erratic, out-of-control tracks burnt into the icy tarmac - his mind
reflecting back to the last nightmarish time their car had been
forced off the road in snowy conditions, not long enough ago.

"H-how did they a-all blow-out?" Scully's inquisitive voice suddenly
asked from behind where he stood in thought.

"I don't know - I'll follow the tracks back to where it happened in
a minute."  Mulder turned, wiped a hand across his face and then
stared down at his partner with a raised brow.  "And what are you
doing out of the car?  I said I'd be back!  Go sit down - you're
badly injured!"

"So are you!"

"What?"

As always unwilling to let him win the debate when it came to what
she should and shouldn't do, Dana carefully took a step forward and
reached up to touch the still lightly-bleeding cut on his forehead.  
The contact made him instantly yelp in surprise and recoil.  But he
lost his footing in the slippery powder, and before he had chance to
right himself, Mulder fell hard onto his butt.

And, despite the pain tearing down her arm or even the direness of
their current situation, Scully couldn't hold back her burst of
laughter.

"Ha-ha," Mulder grumbled as he struggled to stand up.  "Like I don't
get my ass kicked enough, now I have to have it hit by hard, compact
snow?"  He picked up a handful of the stuff and passed it to her to
press against her arm - the last ball having already melted into the
water that was now washing away some of the blood.

"S-sorry," Scully sighed, still lightly snorting at the sight of him
trying to get up.

He eyed her, smiled, and then turned to open the trunk.

Ten minutes later her arm had been cleaned and tightly wrapped, and
she'd made sure he'd put a band aid on his own cut.  They now
followed the skid marks back along the road, and stopped when they
reached the point of impact.

"What the hell?!"  Mulder frowned, crouching down

"I-is that--"

He brushed away the light dusting of snow to expose the police-issue
spike strip that had punctured all four tyres of their rental.  
"Yep," he sighed.  "Either this was left here by accident, or for
about the millionth time we've stumbled across more crooked cops."

"But w-where does that l-l-leave us?" Scully asked, bending down
beside her partner.

Mulder pulled out his cellphone, and sighed as 'No signal' flashed
back at him.  "With a nice little trip in the forest."  He slowly
raised back up to his full height and glanced around at the open
landscape and then at the dense tree line that flanked the other
side of the road.  "We got a choice - either we sit and wait in the
car, or we hike it."  A pause and his focus fell once more on Dana.  
"Or you stay in the car and I hike it."

"Oh, no - don't even think it!  You're not ditching me this time!"

"It's gotta be at least three days trudge over that ridge...It'd be
easier for you to stay in the car, and then I could send for help..."

Scully stubbornly rested both palms on her hips.  "Mulder, if I stay
in that car and it snows I'll be buried alive.  And what if
something happens to you?  Do I really need to give a not-so-brief
recap of your medical track record?  As always, we're better
together, and if we're gonna get out of this, that's how it's got to
be."

There was a moment of silence as Mulder tenderly regarded his pint-
sized but feisty partner.  "You always seem to know best, even in
the most hopeless of situations," he sighed with a smile.

"Damn straight, and don't you forget it!"

"We've got enough snacks in the back of the car to keep us fed for
at least a day and a half, and I guess the snow will provide enough
liquid to sustain us..."

"Is this where I have to teach you the 'Yellow Snow' rule again?"
she teased, following him back to the car.

He wheeled on his heel - almost slipping over yet again.  "Aren't
you just the wittiest little sprite today?  What happened to the bad
mood?"

"Seeing you fall on your butt kind of got rid of it."

XxXxXxXxX

3:46pm EST

"Chief Chad Spector speaking."

Skinner snatched up the handset of his phone and sat back in the
seat behind his desk.  After reading through the case file more
thoroughly, he'd decided it might be worth contacting an old war
buddy of his at the Denver police department to find out why they
had given up so easily on the investigation of four murders.

"Hi, Chad, it's Walter Skinner in D.C." he sighed.  It had been at
least ten years since he'd last spoken with Spector, so he just
hoped the man remembered who he was.

"Walt?  No kidding?  Hey, man, how's it going in the life of an FBI
assistant director?"

"Great, thanks, Chad.  You?"

"Oh, you know - not as fun as the life of a big-shot g-man, but I
can't complain.  So, what can I do you for?  Drug bust?  Stakeout?  
Hair piece?"

"Very funny,"  Skinner shook his head   "Look, I need some
information on a case - four homicides in Wyntack Forest?  I just
wondered If you could fill me in on why it was so quickly filed as a
cold case?  A whole family's killed and two weeks later you give up
hope?"

At the other end of the line, Spector turned to his computer and
typed in some information. "Hey, now!  We're not *that* incompetent
here, Walt.  We may not be New York or D.C, but we still have a
pretty 'together' way of doing stuff."  A little humming to himself,
and then, "Aha!  See?  We never cold-cased it - the case was closed,
period."

"Wha-at?"

"I haven't got all the details here, but apparently the bad guy was
caught and the investigation was closed.  One man, one woman and
their two young daughters found cannibalized in the woods by a hiker
almost a month ago?"

"That's the one, but..."  Skinner frantically thumbed through the
folder that was quickly in front of him again and then stared
disbelievingly at the last page.  "Two of my best agents have just
been sent out there to...to investigate..."  He stood and pulled his
jacket from the back of his leather chair.

Spector snorted.  "You're kidding, right?  What idiot did that?  
Wyntack isn't the most friendliest of terrains at any time of the
year, but it's like minus ten out there, sixty inches deep and there
are only about five houses in the whole place, miles apart!  I
wouldn't be surprised if the sheriff's moved here for the winter.  
If you've got people going out there, I hope they've got a truck-
load of supplies or gas to get 'em through!"

"This isn't funny, Chad!" Walter exclaimed, wiping a sweaty palm
down his face.  "Who caught the guy?"

"Like I say, I haven't got all the details here - I could go track
'em down, but it's gonna take me at least a day."

"That long?"

"We're understaffed - it is Christmas Eve tomorrow unless you didn't
notice!  Have you got a number there I can fax the details to when I
find them?"

"No need - I'm gonna get the next flight out--"

"Whoa!  Didn't you hear me before?  Haven't you been watching the
news lately?"  Spector turned in his seat and looked out the window
at the zero-visibility whiteout.  "All the airports in the state are
pretty battened up - I'd be surprised if your agents' flight even
took off - hundreds are being cancelled....It's just not safe for a
plane to try land or take off in this.  Sit tight, let me dig out
this info, and if there's any reason to think your agents are in
danger, we can go from there, okay?"

Skinner wasn't happy, but he was out of options for the time being
and he needed as much help as possible - knowing their luck, Mulder
and Scully needed as much help as possible.  "Okay.  The fax
number's 202-555-1704.  You got that?  I can't tell you how much
this means, Chad."

"Hey, Walt, you need anything, you only have to ask!  No need for
begging...If it hadn't been for you I wouldn't have gotten through -
let alone survived - 'Nam.  Just make sure it ain't another decade
before the next time!"

The assistant director bade his goodbye with a promise of speaking
again tomorrow to end the call, and then - slipping on his jacket,
left the office.

"Sir?" Kim suddenly started, standing up and taking a step toward
her boss to be as circumspect as possible.  "I found a little of
what you asked me to 'background check', but I should be able to
have some more by the end of the day."

"Thanks heaps, Kim.  I'm going out for a late lunch - I'll be back
in about an hour."

"Yes, sir."
   
XxXxXxXxX

After examining the area map, both Mulder and Scully had agreed that
their only hope of survival was to hike the forty-six miles to
Broomfield, which lay just over the ridge on the other side of the
forest.  They'd donned as many layers of clothing as possible, and
packed as much of the food and accessories they'd had in their
overnight bags into one easy-to-carry holdall.  As if on cue, the
clouds had then begun to close in, and they'd taken that as their
own cue to get moving.  Four hours later, as darkness loomed on the
horizon to the east and an occasional snowflake fell from the sky,
the two agents stopped to rest and scavenge any food the woods had
to offer.

"D' you ever think 'this is it'?" Dana unexpectedly asked, resting
back against a fallen tree and rubbing the bandage that covered her
sore injury.

Mulder sharply looked up from the map and frowned at her.  "Wha-at?"
Of course he'd heard, but he didn't like the implications...

"Do you ever wonder if this could be it - that your body can't take
anymore?"

Now he really was worried!  He immediately rushed to her side to
unwrap her arm and check the wound hadn't become infected.  When he
was satisfied it was clean and okay, scared eyes lifted to stare at
her.  "Scully, honey, you're scaring me..."  He reached up to brush
an errant strand of coppery hair from her face.  "What's brought
this on?"

Her head jerked up, as if only just noticing his closeness.  
"Explosions on Valentine's Day, hanging from the rafters when we
just go to see a basketball game, Egypt, and now this...  We've
almost lost each other so many times just this year..."

"Hey, hey, hey!  We've only been out here a few hours, and you're
giving up all hope on my Indian Guide skills already?  You wound
me!"  He cupped her frozen cheeks in his gloved hands.  "Christmas
Day we're walking out of here...Frostbitten, tired, chapped lipped,
hungry, and my ass as bruised as hell, but alive nevertheless - we
might even be able to avoid the chapped lips by making out a lot."

Dana rested against the welcome warmth of his palms and nodded,
uncertain herself why she'd been so ready to give in...Until she saw
the figure approaching from behind her partner.

"Mul-der?"

"Okay, so we won't overdo the making out..."

"No - behind you!"

Both hands slowly lowered away from her face as he carefully pivoted
to glance over his shoulder, and see the adult wolf that skulked
several more steps toward them before stopping and just staring.  
Scully fumbled for her holstered gun, but there were too many layers
of clothing in the way, and her frenzied movements were only
spooking the animal more, so Mulder quickly stilled her hand.

The wolf continued to watch them with nothing more than curiosity
for five minutes before sharply turning and running away.

Leaving the two agents completely bewildered.

XxXxXxXxX
----------
ACT TWO
----------

LONE GUNMEN OFFICE
TACOMA PARK

"You sent them on a case right before Christmas?  Man, I thought you
were on their side!"

Both eyebrows sharply lifting, Walter Skinner looked down at the
shortest of Mulder's three friends in shock.  Byers and Langly were
nowhere to be seen, which didn't help the assistant director's
unease, but now the false accusation...

"After all these years - after what happened this summer - you
really believe that?" he retorted, not breaking eye contact with
Frohike.  "Come on, Melvin!  If it'd been up to me, they would've
had the whole holiday season off!  This Deputy Director Wallace..."

"Who?"

"Oh, don't worry about that for now - I've got my assistant looking
into it.  I need you to find out if they did catch that plane and--"

Frohike turned to his computer and started typing in the necessary
details.

"And track them down somehow..."

The tapping on the keys paused momentarily, but then continued
without anything being said.

Langly chose that moment to enter the office.  "Hey, Skinman!  
Skipping work to come hang with us?  Cool!  Any governmental secrets
you wanna leak while you're here?"

"Mulder and Scully may have been sent on a bogus case to endanger
their lives by a newly-appointed deputy director at the FBI,"
Skinner stated flatly, not looking away from the monitor as the
details of yesterday's scheduled flights came up.

Frohike glanced over at his friend and shrugged, before sighing,
"They went and they landed last night.  According to their bank
cards they booked into a hotel that end and left early this morning."

"You don't know where they are now?"  When the elf-esque man shook
his head, Skinner forged ahead, "*Can* you find them?"

"We could track them down via the GPS chips in their cellphones,"
Langly piped up, nudging his friend aside and hacking into a system
they'd had to use a number of times in the past to find their FBI
buddies.  "The only problem is, their phones have to be on or at
least able to pick up a signal for us to track it, and at the
moment..."  A tense pause as he set the system to dial either of the
two phone numbers.  "Neither of them are connecting."

A loud curse word erupted from Skinner as his fist slammed against
one of the tabletops and he turned away

"Hey, man, calm down!" Frohike assured, moving to stand in front of
the much taller man.  "We've found them before, we'll find them
again - just trust us, okay?"

Walter considered this for a moment, knowing that these men, above
anyone else, had never given up on Mulder or Scully and certainly
wouldn't now.  Even if they did find them, though - from this far
away - would they be able to get to the two agents in time if they
were indeed in danger?

Awkward silence descended for a moment - only the sound of the
whirring computers circulating the air around them.

"Scully came to me...begging me not to let them be sent on this
case...but..."  The assistant director stepped around Frohike and
moved slowly toward the exit, his head lowering.  "I had orders to
follow - that's my job.  I know I've sent them on some pretty
pointless investigations in the past that have only ended with them
badly injured, but even I wouldn't have sent them on this one if the
302 had come to me directly."

"We know, dude, don't take it so hard - it's not your fault!" Langly
piped up, diverting his gaze to the computer monitor to check the
program was still redialling the two cell numbers.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Walt.  I didn't mean what I said before," Frohike
added solemnly, patting Skinner's back.  "They get in so much
trouble so often, we're scared one of these times we won't get to
them in time."

Skinner's hand fell on the door latch and his head gave a shaky
nod.  "I fear that every day."

And with that he left.

"Jeez, man!  What did you say to upset him that much?  He looked
like his favorite pet had just been run over!" Langly snapped,
standing up and stepping towards his much shorter friend.

Melvin eyed him back and then stepped back towards the computer.  "I
said exactly what he would have said if the roles had been reversed.
Now let's find them."

XxXxXxXxX

He dreams he's running, as fast as possible, for his life.  Running,
struggling for breath, smacking into hordes of branches.

Running against the snow, not fast enough.

And then there's pain ripping through his whole body, blood, and--

"Mulder?"

Her voice cuts through the haze, and the pain morphs into something
much more piercing that instead envelopes him and seeps through his
muscles straight to the bone.

Bitter, freezing cold air.

"M-Mulder?"

He shuddered back to awareness and tightened the circle of his arms
around himself as both eyes tentatively open - blinking several
times against the fresh snowflakes before focusing on Scully.  
They're still resting against the fallen tree, but there's now a
dark blanket of nimbostratus clouds blocking out the sky above them,
and the steadily increasing rate of falling snow lets him know
enough time has passed for the forecasted impending storm to find
them.  The last thing he remembers is the wolf leaving them alone,
and then....nothing.  No wonder she looks so worried.

"What time is it?" he asked, yawning and scrubbing gloved hands at
his damp, icy hair.

Scully folded back the cuff of her jacket to examine the watch
hiding underneath and then puffed out a sigh as she looked back up
at her partner.  "Almost three o'clock, local time.  You were
snoring away for about half-hour, and I would have left you a little
longer, but you started frantically kicking and mumbling something...
I figured you'd rather be woken up than left in whatever nightmare
you were having."

"Thanks."  He gave her a weak smile and nod.  "Are you okay?  Did
you get any rest?"

"No - I'll take my turn a little l-later."  At his confused frown,
she elaborated, "Somebody had to keep an eye out for wolves that
weren't as friendly."

Mulder gave an appreciative huff of laughter and uneasily stood up,
folding away the map that had been resting in his lap.  He then
paused, though, and dropped to his knees in front of her - both arms
outstretching to embrace her tightly.  He felt the shakes wracking
her body fade slightly as she absorbed the heat their bodies shared,
and wished he could whisk them away to a tropical isle within a
blink of an eye.

"Come on, let's get moving.  The map says there should be a cave a
little further up ahead.  We can shelter and rest there for a while."

"A cave?  Won't bears be hibernating in it?"

"We won't disturb them.  It's our only option."

After a thoughtful pause, Dana nodded her head against his chest,
and then looked up to press a kiss against his pale, frozen lips - a
kiss which he quickly returned, fuelled with passion that burned
even hotter than the warmth their bodies could generate or share.  
The bitter air biting at them and exhaustion brought it to a much-
too-soon end, though, and their icy foreheads rested together for a
moment before they helped each other to their feet.

"This must be how the victims were forced into the woods," Scully
noted as they started forward.

"Most likely, but they probably didn't have a map or compass and
that's how they became lost.  What I don't understand is if there
are indeed a group of cannibals out here, what benefit would any
source of law e-e-enforcement have protecting t-them, or even - more
darkly - providing live meals for them?  There's no way they c-could
survive out here in these mountains on just the occasional person,
unless more people have b-been reported missing and there's a cover-
up."

"The townsfolk ignored what was going on in the d-desert in 'The
Hills Have Eyes'."

Mulder blinked and gave her a mock-shocked glare.  "Scully!  Your
taste in m-movies just keeps surprising me!  W-when did you get time
t-t-to see that?  And without me?"

"I was actually thinking m-more along the lines of the original -
there were actually advantages to having an older brother who could
sneak you in to an NC-17 flick."

"Bill?  Doing something generous and against the rules?  That I do
wish I'd seen."

"He had his moments."

As they forged ahead against the blistering breeze and snow, silence
fell between them momentarily, but then Mulder had an idea.  "Unless
the local LEOs *are* the cannibals?"

"The only n-native officer is Sheriff Lynus D-Donner."  She quickly
raised a hand to stop him interrupting.  "And don't even think about
making that joke."

Mulder gave an innocent shrug of his shoulders.  "You mean the
s-same Sheriff Donner - I have read the file, remember? - we were on
our way to see when the tyres were blown out?"

"Well, y-yes, but... S-surely you're not implying that one m-m-man
on his own managed to k-kill that whole family?"

"One person could kill a whole army g-given the r-r-right tools and
means, S-Scully."

"But the crime-scene photos showed the bodies were all together and
t-there w-w-were no signs of great struggle."

"'No signs' that were probably covered by fresh snow."  Mulder came
to a stop, wheezing against the frigid air filling his lungs.  The
weight of the backpack he was carrying was beginning to take its
toll, and struggling to walk as quickly but carefully through the
deep snow so as not to end up chest-deep in it was no easy stroll in
the park.  He coughed, wiped a hand down his face - wincing when he
accidentally brushed a finger over the cut on his forehead - and was
about to continue onwards when he paused to glance over his shoulder
to check she was okay.  "Do you w-w-wanna t-take...take another
break?"

Scully shook her head and took a deep, shuddering breath.  "N-no...
Let's k-keep moving for as l-long as possible."

From the pain tearing at her face, he wasn't convinced, but he gave
her an assuring smile and started moving ahead again.

XxXxXxXxX

FBI HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON, D.C.
5:09PM EST

Kim jumped out of her seat as Skinner walked through the door to the
area outside his office with his head lowered and quickly moved to
walk alongside him.  "Sir?"  Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial
whisper.  "Sir, I managed to get the information you were after...
for that 'background check'."

His head snapped up and fixed on her.  When she gave him a slight
affirming nod he guided her into his office and immediately shut the
door after them.

"'Officially' Deputy Director Wallace was transferred from the New
York offices," Kim started, keeping her voice as low as possible as
she offered her boss a file folder - which he instantly accepted,
"but I contacted a friend whose worked there for twenty years, and
she said she's never heard of a Deborah Wallace.  She didn't even
recognize her from the file photo I e-mailed to her.  So I did a
little more digging..."  She became slightly antsy, shifting from
one foot to the other.  "Apparently whoever assigned her here is...
Is from somewhere high up in the chain of command at the Pentagon."

Walter Skinner sharply looked up from the pages in the open profile
and frowned.  He knew the Syndicate had never been restrictive when
it came to the lengths they were happy to go to, to get at Mulder
and Scully, but placing somebody in the FBI seemed like too
elaborate a plan for such a brief, insignificant end.

Unless there was even worse trouble on the horizon...

He mulled it over, chewed on the gristle of the facts, and then spat
it all out of his thoughts for the time being, knowing that it was
enough to prove his fears that his two agents were at risk but that
he also couldn't go after Wallace to try have her exposed and
removed from the Bureau - that was a level in this conspiracy he
would never be able to battle.  All he could do was focus on finding
and rescuing Mulder and Scully.

"That's excellent work, Kim.  Thanks so much for doing that," he
sighed, squeezing her shoulder affectionately with his left hand as
the right one slipped the now-closed folder underneath his arm.  
"Why don't you pack up and go enjoy Christmas?  I'll see you next
week."

"Agents Mulder and Scully are going to be okay, aren't they, sir?"

"Of course."

Kim gave a grateful smile and then turned to leave.  "Merry
Christmas, sir."

"You too, Kim."

As the door closed after her, Skinner reached for his cellphone,
moved to pick up his briefcase from beside his large desk and then
left the office via the double doors at the back of the room.

"It's me.  Have you managed to find them yet?  Okay.  I need you to
get me a seat on the soonest flight out to Colorado."

XxXxXxXxX

WYNTACK FOREST, COLORADO
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 23rd 2006
11:27PM

The figure huddled underneath a large blue spruce as the snowstorm
reduced visibility on his trek down from the mountain to zero.  This
wasn't the most convenient of developments in his plan, but it was
far from about to hinder him too much.  He'd almost literally grown
up in these woods, and had used them for many hunting games over the
years so he knew the area and how to survive in it rain or shine
like the back of his hand.  Plus the red suit he now wore was
thickly padded, so it kept him well-insulated.

No, no snowstorm would deny him these two fine, healthy catches.

Bare, frostbitten-but-steady fingers tore at some more of the red,
raw meat pooled by his feet and bloodstained teeth hungrily bit into
it - ripping as much of the flesh from the bone before discarding
the inedible remains onto the nearby pile of  fur, bone and
cartilage that had - not twenty minutes ago - made up the body of a
tall, proud, adult wolf.

The night would be long and this was his only meal for now, but he
could relax with the knowledge that by tomorrow afternoon he'd have
the finest cuisine for the taking that he'd had in over a month.

Thank God for people with grudges who could deliver!


Continued...