Headers in Part 1

Part 6
Mulder's Room 
Blue Shores Motel
January 18, 4:45 AM

In the middle of their fifth time, Scully heard herself 
moaning. Soft, little sounds of pleasure that she had 
never  heard coming from deep inside her. Part of her 
wanted to be quieter, more dignified, but she knew it 
was impossible. Mulder had found a good rhythm, the 
exact right spot to practice that rhythm on and she was 
quickly making  her way toward seventh heaven.

She had her eyes closed and was concentrating on the 
rocking motions of the bed and their bodies when Mulder 
suddenly slowed his pace dramatically. She opened her 
eyes to find him looking at her with amusement.

"Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention."

"Mmmmm, yes, I am."

"Good," he said, twisting his hips a little. She let out 
another moan. Louder. His smile widened in response.
"You like that, huh?"

She nodded and moved her hands from the middle of his 
back onto his behind. Once there, she tightened her grip 
until she knew he would have the crescent-shaped 
imprints of her fingernails as a souvenir.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "You are a devil woman, you 
know that. You're messing up my concentration."

"Don't *you* like that?" she asked him in the same self-
assured voice he had used to ask almost the same 
question.

"Why, yes, I do. But this wasn't supposed to be about me 
yet."

She tightened her hold on his firm flesh once again. 
"It's all about us, Mulder. Both of us."

He looked down into her eyes and began to move. Same 
rhythm, same spot but double the intensity. She was 
moaning almost constantly now--over the incredible 
feeling of him pumping in and out of her and the 
accompanying look of concentration on his face. He was 
so intent on giving her the most pleasure he was capable 
of and that was an incredibly sexy feeling. He reached 
down with his right hand and moved one of her legs a 
little further apart. It was enough to set her body in a 
full-on spasm of pleasure and her internal contractions 
were enough to make him join her chorus of moans as he 
leapt into a heaven of his own.

She pulled him down on top of her, not caring for the 
moment that her breathing was slightly obstructed with 
the bulk of his body. 

"Mulder," she murmured, running her fingers through the 
hair on the back of his neck. She was glad to find it 
slightly wet from his exertion in this rather cold motel 
room. "God, Mulder. I missed this so much."

He pulled away from her and moved off of her body, 
rolling her with him. She could breathe easier now but 
missed him inside her already. Their first time that 
evening was quick and frenzied but this time was so slow 
and exquisite, she never wanted it to end. 

"Sometimes easy is not the answer. I would have given up 
everything as long as I had you in my life, Scully. In 
any capacity--but now--I'm fighting like hell for this 
one. If I act like an idiot by noon today--feel free to 
grab my ass again and remind me what I'm fighting for."

She buried her head in his shoulder and laughed.

"We've never laughed in bed together, Scully. This is 
kind of nice."

"There's a lot of things we haven't done yet."

"I think I'm scared and turned on all at once."

She ran her hand down the front of his body to check for 
physical proof.

"Scully  ...  you're good but not a miracle worker."

"Just checking."

"Sex maniac."

"It's just as well. We need a few hours of sleep before 
dealing with Rocky and Bullwinkle."

"Natasha," Mulder murmured.

"Whatever."

He kissed her head lightly.

"I do love you, Scully."

"I know. The feeling is completely mutual."

His soft laughter was a nice sedgeway into sleep.

XXXXX
7:39 AM

Natasha was not all that difficult to find. The Gunmen 
were able to track her down to the Newark Correctional 
Facility. As promised, they had a full name and history 
by morning.

"Three, Mulder. Three Natashas in prisons in the United 
States," Frohike said in lieu of a greeting.

"I'm surprised there are that many."

"Well, I'm glad this chick seems to fit the bill because 
she could have Americanized her name and we could be 
trying to sort through a butt-load of Natalies."

"We'll save the butt load for another day, Frohike. Give 
me the rundown."

"Poisoned her old man. Fed him small amounts of arsenic 
over time. I'm not entirely sure how she thought she'd 
get away with it but she was apparently very surprised 
over her arrest." 

"That's strange."

"Human nature, Mulder. We all think we're a lot smarter 
than anyone else."

"Aint it the truth."

"Anyway, she was caught--confessed, and got twenty five 
to life. Eligible for parole in 18."

"And that's it?"

"Pretty much."

"What was her motive?"

"She was having an affair with a man whose name she 
refused to divulge."

"Ah ... "

"But, the plot thickens. *She* wouldn't reveal his name 
but a neighbor swears it was Ricardo Monte--a small time 
mobster who controls a portion of the boardwalk--one 
casino, protection on some stores--that type of thing."

"Now we're getting somewhere."

"Mulder, one last thing to keep in mind. Natasha's 
husband--Douglas Burk--was in debt. In and out of 
Gambler's Anonymous. He owed money to Monte. Not a hell 
of a lot in the grand scheme of things but enough for 
Monte to *not* want it swept under the table."

"I see. So, Natasha was actually doing Ricardo a favor 
by killing her husband?"

"Yup."

"Okay. Thanks, Frohike. I owe you one."

"This one is a freebie. I won't start collecting again 
until you've got the x-files back."

"We're working on it."

"Give Agent Scully my love, Mulder."

"Oh, I'll be sure to do that."

Mulder disconnected his cell phone, put it on the night 
table and moved the blanket aside. He nudged Scully's 
shoulder with his lips.

"Frohike sends his love but it will just have to wait in 
line. I was here first."

XXXXX
Newark Correctional Facility
10 AM

Natasha Burk sat in the small interrogation room and 
started with a question of her own.

"Got a cigarette?"

"No," Scully said.

"Too bad," the weathered brunette said, "I could use 
one. So, what's the deal? I'm already in here. You have 
your confession. What else do you want?"

"We are here to try and get a few more details. They may 
have a bearing on a case we're currently working on."

"What's in it for me?"

"Personal satisfaction?" Mulder suggested. "Or  ...  
nothing?"

Natasha barked out a phlegmy laugh. "I like you. You got 
balls."

"I should hope so," Mulder replied. "Now, how about 
starting with Madame Miranda's Love Connection. Ever 
been there?"

"Madame Miranda? The psychic? Oh, sure. I did it as a 
goof, really. The reading. I was with a girlfriend and 
we were kinda drunk, to tell the truth. She was from 
outta town so we hit the slots and took advantage of the 
free booze. 

Anyway, we went for a long walk to try and sober up 
because --well, my husband really didn't like to see 
that. He thought it was unladylike. 

So, we passed by the little shop and it was different 
from the others because of the love connection crap. And 
Annie--my friend---dared me to go in and find out if 
Dougie--my husband--was really the love of my life."

"And?" Scully prompted.

A shadow crossed Natasha's face until she visibly shook 
it off. "And  ...  she was a nice kid. Takes her job too 
seriously if you ask me."

"And did your husband prove to the be the love of your 
life, according to Miranda's reading?" Scully continued.

"No."

"Did you recognize the description Miranda gave you or 
is it someone you didn't know yet?"

"Yeah, it's one of the butt ugly women in my cell-
block," she sniped, then quickly turned serious. "I 
recognized the description."

"Who was it?" Mulder asked.

"That's my business and mine alone."

"Fair enough," he said, "So, you were pleased with this 
reading? Or did it disturb you?"

"You know I poisoned my husband. I didn't do it because 
I considered him the love of my life."

"Why did you do it?"

"He was in the way. There was another man."

"The man Miranda described?"

"Depends. How good is Miranda's memory?"

"She doesn't have a clue who you are or any recollection 
of your meeting."

"In that case, yeah, her reading was good."

"And what happened to this guy? Where is he now?"

"I haven't seen him since I was arrested. And I don't 
expect to."

"I don't understand. I thought getting your husband 'out 
of the way' was going to help your relationship with 
this person."

"You and me both. I wasn't supposed to get caught. 
Dougie was a big man. Real big--and not in a good way, 
if you get my drift. I was feeding him this poison for a 
while. He was supposed to just drop dead one day--and 
really, if it had gone as planned with witnesses and 
all--no one would have questioned that it was anything 
but a heart attack. They would have asked if I wanted an 
autopsy done and I would have told them I wanted to 
preserve his body as the shrine that it was. But he died 
in the apartment with just the two of us there and I 
said something that was 'inconsistent' with death by 
natural causes. I could cut my freaking tongue out for 
that. How the hell was I supposed to know? I've never 
seen anyone die before and I thought I could wing it 
from what I seen on tv."

"So, your --boyfriend--wasn't in on it?"

"No. And I'm not talking about him any more. Ask me 
something else if you want but I'm not talking about 
him. It's clear as day I'm not the love of *his* life."

Scully took over the questioning. "Did your husband know 
about the reading?"

"Yes. I told him. Well, I just told him she saw a face 
that wasn't his. I kind of did it to piss him off but he 
took it real seriously. He went over there--I think--to 
get read himself." She shut her mouth quickly.

"And  ...  " Scully prompted.

"And I don't think he got read."

"Why don't you think so?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling."

She was lying but both agents knew that antagonizing her 
would do no good.

"Tell us about your husband's last moments, Mrs. Burk."

"Natasha, please. I killed the guy. I feel funny using 
his last name, you know? He knew something was up and I 
think he knew it was my doing. He just kept saying, 
"why, why," and then he died."

"That's it?"

"Why are you asking me that? I'm telling you what I 
know. You want me to make up a story for ya?"

"No, we just thought there'd be more of a connection to 
our case."

"I don't even know what your case is. What? Is Madame 
Miranda in trouble? Cause I know I only saw her the one 
time but I gotta tell you--she seems legit. You want 
some bogus psychics--I can point you in other directions 
all right."

"We're not really at liberty to discuss the case."

"Hey, then I don't know what more I can tell you."

Mulder cut to the chase. "Your husband never said 
anything about Madame Miranda directly before his 
death?"

"No," she frowned. "All right--yeah. I don't know what 
happened. He went to see her and told me he saw 
something through her window--something he had to warn 
her about." 

"But you don't know what it is?"

"Not really. By that time, his speech was going and he 
was gasping for air. I didn't understand exactly what he 
was trying to say. Look, Miranda's a good kid.  I think 
she's okay and she made me happy that day, y'know? But I 
'aint gonna do anything to get myself in more trouble 
than I'm already in. I'm just not going there. So, I 
hope you can get something out of this because I'm not 
giving you any details that will fry my ass."

XXXXX
12 PM
Atlantic City Expressway

"Ass-frying, Mulder. What do you know about it?"

Mulder was driving them back to their motel when Scully 
gave him his pop-quiz. He turned to her and gave her a 
quick, amused glance before focusing his eyes on the 
road.

"Well, in this case, I'm pretty sure she was not talking 
about any further legal punishment."

"No, I didn't get that impression, either. I think she's 
pretty open about the only skeleton in her closet. So, 
she's somehow afraid of punishment by Ricardo Monte?"

"It would seem so."

"And yet--falling in love with a mobster is not a crime. 
Even admitting an affair with him is not a crime. Unless 
she knows something."

"Or suspects something. Some kind of connection between 
Miranda's warning and Richard Monte."

"Well, we now have pictures for her to look at. Perhaps 
something will jog her memory."

XXXXX
Madame Miranda's Love Connection
2 PM

"I remember her face," Miranda said cautiously as she 
looked at Natasha's photo. They slipped a press photo of 
Ricardo Monte in next. He did not have a mug shot. 
Rumors and innuendo surrounded him but no actual 
criminal charges were ever filed. The photo was from the 
opening of his casino.

"Oh, yes. I saw him during a reading."

"Hers?"

"Probably. I recognize both of their faces and I 
actually tend to focus more on people who come through 
in readings since I have to give those being read their 
descriptions."

"Okay. What about him?"

They passed a picture of Douglas Burk.

"No, I have no recollection of this man at all."

"Well, meet our ghost."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry but I know I've never seen him 
before."

Mulder flopped back in his chair and covered his face 
with both hands. He quickly removed them and looked at 
Scully.

"What next?"

"I don't know, Mulder."

"We have the ghost--your original problem," he said to 
Miranda. "who more than likely will never bother you 
again because he felt he delivered his message. But, his 
message was a warning. And we don't know what the 
warning is. So, do we sit around and wait for something 
or  ...  "

"We call Rita," Miranda said firmly.

"The one who channels the dead?"

"The one and only. We need her to get back in touch with 
our spirit."

End of Part 6

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