Title: Paths That Cross (1/4)

Author: Hansome Alvin (hansomealvin@my-deja.com)

Genre: Slash/Suspense

Rating: NC-17 for sex, language and violence (not nearly as dark as the last one, I promise)

Fandom: X-Flies/Millennium/Twin Peaks crossover

Spoilers: The X-Files-episode "Millennium"/Millennium-episode "The Time is Now"/Twin Peaks-whole show

Summary: Sequel to "Angels in Dark Suits." Dana Scully and Lara Means team up to stop a vicious plot against Audrey Horne and Gersten and Donna Hayward.

Distribution: with permission of the author (hansomealvin@my-deja.com) This story will be archived at my website (http://www.oocities.org/hansomealvin/ThinkMeWicked.html)

Disclaimers: Characters from "The X-Files" and "Millennium" are property of Ten-Thirteen Productions. Characters from "Twin Peaks" are property of the Lynch/Frost Company. I imply no ownership of these characters, no do I profit from the use of them in this context. All original characters (including Darla Daley) and the story are copyright 2000 by Hansome Alvin. This is a "slash" story, which means it depicts scenes of a sexual nature between members of the same sex (women, in this case). If this offends you, do not read it.

Paths That Cross

by Hansome Alvin (hansomealvin@my-deja.com)

"Voice of the Swarm

We follow we fall

Some kneel for priests

Some wail at walls

Flag on a match head

God or the law

And they'll all go together

Where duty calls"

--Patti Smith

"It's time to move."

--posted to 27 international message boards on February 10th by user "Archangel"

Part One

February, 2000

Vultures of the insect world. Flies. Little black dots floating in the air, their buzzing annoying enough to drive you insane. The noise was almost deafening in this small, claustrophobic concrete box in the middle of the desert. Angela Feathers needed to hear a human voice, which was why she had asked her question a moment ago, but the woman in the stall wouldn't talk.

Some people just weren't conversationalists, Angela thought as she washed her hands in the filthy, stain-covered sink of the rest stop.

"I said 'Where 'ya headed?'" she repeated over her shoulder.

The woman in the stall didn't respond. Angela finished washing her hands and turned around, eyeing the woman's shoes under the stall door. The shoes were ragged and worn; the woman was obviously a hitcher.

"What? Are you afraid I'm some kind of serial killer?" Angela asked the woman in the stall. She narrowed her eyebrows. "Is everything all right? You okay in there?"

Angela approached the stall, wanting to see if the woman was all right. She knocked on the stall door and it swung open, slowly, menacingly.

"Sorry to interrupt, it's just--" but that's all she got out before she began to scream. She ran out of the bathroom and into the cold, night air and into her car, driving off down the empty highway to find a phone. One that wasn't close to the rest stop and it's ghoulish inhabitant.

Back in the bathroom stall, the woman sat on the toilet fully clothed. It would have been easy to assume that she was just sitting on the toilet to rest for a few minutes.

If she had a head.

Reese played with a cigarette, twirling it this way and that. It wasn't lit, he was trying to cut down of late. He was a tall, strong man with very light brown hair and eyes that always seemed to be looking for a target. He spun the cigarette a few times and snuck a peek over his shoulder.

The roadside diner was almost empty. From his vantage point at the counter he could see that other than himself, there were only three other people in the shabby, poorly-lit establishment: an overweight, thirtish man with a wild main of brown hair that was haphazardly stuck under a hat, a slightly younger man wearing a business suit, and a twenty-something woman with a dark, deep tan and extremely short, blonde hair. This was who Reese was observing.

She was voluptuous. Not fat, but she had meat on her. Reese thought it made her very attractive. She was sitting alone, drinking a soda. She had just finished a meal, steak, it looked like. A dirty plate was pushed to the opposite side of the table, making her look all the more alone.

I'll take care of her, Reese thought. She won't be alone anymore. She'll have me.

Reese tried to push the thought out of his head, but it wouldn't leave. It never did. He got up from the bar, threw a ten onto it and walked over to her table.

"Cigarette?" he asked, offering the woman his pack.

"Sure," the woman said, looking up. "Thank you."

She pulled one out of the pack, American Made Lights, and held it between her lips. Reese lit it for her. He looked into her dark green eyes as she puffed on the nicotine coffin nail. There were mysteries in her eyes. He was transfixed by this woman.

"Where 'ya headed?" he asked, sitting down across from her and finally lighting his own cigarette.

"Boulder," she said. She hadn't objected to the fact that he had invited himself to the table.

"Kinda far," he said.

The woman nodded and there was silence.

"You hitchin'?" Reese said, a shot in the dark.

The woman nodded again.

"I'm headed for Boulder," he continued, the plan coming together in his head. "You wanna' tag along?"

She took in a lungfull of smoke, blew it out and looked at him, the cigarette dangling like a conductor's baton between her fingers as dawn began to break outside. She nodded, smiling wide.

"I'm John," Reese said.

"Mary," she said.

They were both lying.

Washington, DC

Dana Scully hated Valentine's Day. It was all a vapid, pretentious concoction used to harness naive young people into spending money that they could use elsewhere, as far as she was concerned. She didn't buy it. She had just gotten out of the shower and was drying her hair when the telephone rang.

"Scully," she answered it.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Mulder nearly yelled at her. Dana held the phone away from her ear for a second.

"Same to you, Mulder," she said, returning the receiver to her ear.

Mulder had become increasingly strange since the two of them had kissed on New Year's Eve. He almost seemed to be courting her. Dana didn't put much stock in the kiss, it was just an impulsive move. A sign of affection between friends. She felt more like Mulder's sister than a romantic interest. Didn't he feel the same way?

"So what are your happy heart day plans?" Mulder asked.

"I have the day off."

"Dana Scully, taking the day off? Say it isn't so."

"It's so, Mulder. Contrary to certain rumors, I do, in fact, have a life."

"Of course you do, but it's Monday. You wouldn't be taking the day off just to get a three-day weekend, would you?"

Dana paused before answering.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing." This wasn't strictly true.

"Naughty, naughty. Want me to swing by at lunch, bring you something to eat?"

"No, Mulder, of course not. Is that a joke?"

"Uh...yeah, it's a joke. You know me."

"Yes, I do. What's going on?"

"Actually, nothing. You picked the right day to take off. It's boring as hell around here."

"You're already there, Mulder?"

"Well, I...had some files to work on."

"You've been there all night, haven't you?"

"Yes. Is that wrong?"

"No, of course not. You're very committed to your work, Mulder."

"And I'm to assume that's a compliment?"

"It is, Mulder. Is something bothering you?"

"No. Nothing's bothering me."

Someone knocked on Dana's door.

"Why don't you call me if and when you decide to tell me what's wrong. I have to go."

"All right, bye," Mulder said, reluctantly hanging up.

Dana put the phone down and walked to the door. Who could it be so early in the morning? She opened the door and stood glued to the spot, speechless.

"Is it a bad time," Lara Means said.

"No. No, no, come in."

Dana moved aside and let Lara in. She hadn't changed much in six months. Still strong, still wearing a crisp, dark suit, still gorgeous. Dana wanted to push her to the ground right there and have her way with her, but she was also angry with the woman. Lara handed Dana a stack of bills and advertisements.

"It's your mail," Lara said, mostly to the floor.

"I can see that," Dana said, depositing the stack of envelopes onto a table beside the door. "What brings you here? And why now?"

Lara brought her right hand from behind her back and in it she held a single red rose. It was wrapped in red paper and was covered in dew. She had obviously just bought it. Dana took the rose and looked at it.

"Valentine's Day, I figured now was as good a time as any," Lara managed. "I'm not very good at this."

Dana's expression seemed to say, "I can see that," but she didn't say anything. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence between the two woman.

"Six months, Lara," Dana finally said.

"I know."

"Six months."

"The group I was with--"

"Millennium."

Lara looked up, surprised.

"Yes, I know who your 'group' is," Dana said. "They're an interesting organization. What's most interesting about them is that they were dissolved in October of last year. Which means that you should have been safe from them for months now. Why didn't you come earlier?"

"I...there were other members of the group, members not so content to just walk away."

"All right, I accept that. I met a few of them myself. But that still doesn't account for time."

"Dana, please don't push me. I..."

"You what? Huh, you what? Look, I'm a big girl. If you don't want to be with me, you can just tell me. You don't have to make up some story."

"I had an incident."

"An incident? Well, must have been some incident, then."

"It was. I had another nervous breakdown."

Instantly, Dana hated herself. She hated herself for being so hard on this woman. This woman who was strong and smart, but who was not unbreakable. She was human. Dana hugged her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Lara. I didn't know. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine now. It wasn't as severe as the first one."

"When did it happen?"

"New Year's, of course."

"We all had an exciting day on the Millennium, didn't we?"

Lara laughed and Dana squeezed her harder, not wanting to let go, never wanting to let go. Lara caressed the FBI agent's back and sides, causing the robe to ride up on Dana's skin. Dana's breathing became more rapid, betraying her passion. Lara brought her hands from Dana's back to her front, untying the robe and letting it fall open. Dana stepped back, exposing herself to her lover. Lara discarded her jacket, pulled her shirt out of her pants and walked towards Dana, pulling the robe off her shoulders. Dana's body was clean and pink, healthy and alive. Lara reveled in the spots of red on her lover's skin as she blushed with desire.

They kissed, the last six months forgotten as they became one again. Dana was in love with Lara's lips, so full and luscious. They were like pieces of gourmet candy, chocolate covered cherry, perhaps, and Dana melted into them, surrendering.

Lara had succeeded in stripping Dana, the FBI agent was naked, her alluring body pressed against the other woman, still clothed. Dana rectified that, unbuttoning Lara's shirt and pushing it off her body and grasping her breasts, held in a simple, white bra. Lara gasped, it had been so long since she had felt another's touch. Dana was all she was aware of now, her entire world, her universe. Like a black hole, the FBI agent had sucked her in and incorporated her into the celestial body that was Dana Scully.

Lara ran her hands through Dana's damp hair, loving the feel of it. This woman was her life, the only thing that pulled her through her second breakdown. The thought of this woman had saved her from destroying herself mentally. When she had visions of her angel, she hardly paid attention anymore. Dana was her angel. A beautiful, luminous angel in a dark suit that was always there for her.

They made their way, bodies locked together, to Dana's bedroom. Lara sat her lover down on the bed and got down on her knees, kissing Dana's navel and licking the muscles on her stomach. She lapped up the beads of sweat and droplets of water from Dana's shower. Lara made her way lower, lightly tugging at the tuft of red hair between her lover's legs. Dana's eyes closed in anticipation. And then Lara was inside, no longer actually aware of what she was doing. She nearly hurt Dana, she was so ravenous.

Dana's legs gradually parted and she began to lean back onto the bed. Lara continued her exploration as she unbuttoned and slipped off her pants. Lara was now on the bed as well; Dana on her back, head craned back, mouth open; Lara crouched over her on all fours, her head buried between her lover's thighs.

Lara's panties and bra were discarded, both women now naked. Lara stopped her exploration and kissed her way back up Dana's body, finally reaching Dana's red lips. They kissed and Lara scissored her legs between Dana's. Both woman began to grind their hips together, enjoying this rather masculine sex act. Their kiss broke, Dana starting to breathe into Lara's neck, Lara licking Dana's. They both climaxed, holding onto each other.

"I love you," Dana said into Lara's right ear. "I love y--"

Lara interrupted her with another kiss. It lasted a few moments before both women collapsed to the comforter, short of breath.

"I love Valentine's Day," Dana muttered.

"What was that?" Lara got out.

"Nothing," Dana said, turning and kissing Lara again.

"What is she doing in there?" Reese thought, sitting behind the wheel of his white, ‘69 Camaro, tapping his fingers on the dashboard. The Camaro was stolen, of course. Reese found it too nice to leave parked in a rest stop all alone.

That was where the two of them were now, actually. They had stopped at a rest area a little over five minutes ago. It was she who suggested it, Reese didn't need to relieve himself. So he waited in the car. Strange thing, though. When she was walking towards the restroom, Reese had looked up at her. She had passed into some shadows and for a moment, Reese thought she looked different. She looked as if she had long dark hair and her shape was different. Thinner. Then she was the same again. He stopped thinking about it. His mind must have been playing tricks on him.

He thought about her in bathroom.

He would follow her.

He promised himself that he would not follow her.

It wasn't the right time...yet.

Reese went for a cigarette, stopped himself and grabbed a piece of gum out of the glove compartment instead. He popped the gum and leaned back in his seat.

What did women do in the bathroom for so long?

The woman with short blond hair studied herself in the mirror. The guy in the car (John, was it? Yeah, right.) would do just fine. If he was who she thought he was, he would work out nicely. She smiled and checked her make-up as a bleak, harsh light appeared in the mirror. The kind of light that must emanate from a dying sun. At the center of the light was a figure. A figure with wings. The woman was transfixed by the image.

"I know," she said, eyes fixed on the figure. "I know. I'll get them. It's already in motion. They won't know what hit them."

The figure seemed not to notice. It was gone a moment later.

Darla Daley wiped a tear from her eye, checked her extremely altered body once more and left the restroom.

Phoenix, AZ

"What about the bills?" Gale said for the second time. She didn't get a response this time, either. "Audrey?"

"Huh?" Audrey Horne looked up into her secretary's eyes.

"The bills, Audrey. You have to go over them, see if everything is to your specifications before I send them off."

"I trust you, Gale, do whatever." Audrey waved her away.

"I swear," Gale said.

"What?"

Audrey was distracted these days. She was sitting behind her desk, thinking things over when Gale came in and started going over these damn bills. Now what was she on about?

"You don't pay attention to me anymore," Gale said.

Gale was a slim, athletic brunette, her hair hanging around her head as if it just decided to settle there. Audrey had been sleeping with her for a month now. That was only two months after she hired the girl. Audrey got up from behind the desk and hugged Gale.

"I'm sorry, honey, I'm distracted. I'll...why don't we go out for dinner tonight?"

"Okay," Gale said, wiping away tears. "I'll go send these off." She indicated the bills.

"Okay," Audrey said, giving Gale one last squeeze before she was gone.

What am I doing with Gale? she thought when the secretary was out of the office. Why am I even with women at all? Now, that wasn't fair. Even though her relationship with Donna was wrong, the fact that they were both women was not wrong. Donna had made Audrey realize that she was a lesbian, she couldn't deny that. And she couldn't blame her, either. Donna didn't turn her gay. She always was gay, she just didn't know it.

This was all true. But why was she with Gale? Was it because she was there? Because she was the next attractive woman that Audrey got to know well? Could be.

Audrey strode over to Gale's desk, doing nothing in particular, when she saw a book lying open on the heavy wooden piece of furniture. It was a small, lurid paperback. The cover art illustrated a woman with fire-red hair, gun drawn, crouching by a wall. The book was "Sacrament" by Pat Floures, Donna Hayward's pen name. Audrey snorted and picked up the book. Should have known, she thought and read from the page where Gale had put the book down.

"Joanne swept the room quickly, gun searching for it's target," the book read. "It found nothing. The room was empty.

" 'Clear,' she called out over her shoulder.

"Hilda entered the room, gun hanging at her side. Joanne couldn't help but undress her partner with her eyes. She was so beautiful. Ever since the night they became lovers, Joanne had become more protective of Hilda, and this was just another example. What was she doing making her wait to enter a room? Hilda could take care of herself."

Audrey put the book down, shook her head and smiled weakly.

"Donna, Donna," she said. "Still got it."

Gale re-entered the office, throwing a stack of envelopes down on the desk.

"Mail already came," Gale said. "Couldn't send off the bills."

"What a shame," Audrey said, giving her secretary, her lover, a small kiss on the lips.

"What was that for," Gale asked, an odd look on her face.

"Paying more attention to you. It is Valentine's Day."

Gale shook her head and sat down behind her desk. Audrey idly picked up the first envelope and looked at it. It was marked to her. Not "Horne Detective Agency", like most of the letters read, but "Audrey Horne." Audrey scanned the envelope. There was no return address. She torn it open, pulling the single sheet of paper out. It read:

Dear private dick (without a dick),

Meet me and all your bitch friends at Donna and Gersten Hayward's residence in Boulder, Colorado as soon as possible. This is not exactly a threat, but I don't think you'll want to miss this.

Yours,

Darla Daley

Audrey couldn't breathe. It felt as if she were trying to breath through a straw and not succeeding.

"Audrey?" Gale asked. "Audrey, are you all right?"

The secretary got up and put a hand on her lover's shoulder.

"What is it?"

Audrey still couldn't breathe. She only stared at the terrifying piece of paper and thought.

She knows where Donna lives! she thought. How?

"Audrey?" Gale was saying. She finally took the letter from her lover's hands and read it for herself.

"What does this mean?" she asked when she was finished.

Audrey finally took a breath.

"It means," she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. "It means that me and some people that I care about are in a world of shit."

"Have you found God, John?"

The question came out of nowhere. Reese had been driving, trying not to pay attention to the woman sitting next to him, when out of the blue, this.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you a religious man?"

"Well, I..." he thought for a moment. His parents had beaten their religious beliefs into him ever since he had been born. He had been mad at God, sometimes. Wanted to kill Him sometimes. But not believe in Him? Never. "Yeah. I'm a religious man. A righteous man."

Darla smiled. She'd found her servant.

"I knew you were the one, Reese," she said.

The name floored him. He frantically pulled the car over to the shoulder and turned it off. His door was open and he was out in seconds flat. Darla followed him.

"How do you know my name?" he asked her as she got out of the car.

"He told me," Darla said, walking towards Reese. Every time she took a step forward, Reese would backup one.

"Who? Who fucking told you? God?"

"No, not God. He doesn't speak to us mere mortals."

"Then who told you?"

"A servant of God."

Reese bent over and pulled his six-inch, razor-sharp knife, thin and deadly, from it's sheath.

"You're fuckin nuts, Mary," he said, pointing the blade at her.

"No need for that, Reese," she indicated the knife. "I'm Darla Daley. And you are Eddie Reese. You're the one who's been mutilating those woman, those drifters along the highway."

Reese shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

"They were trash. I was doing them a favor. And now I suppose you're here to punish me, right?" He nodded, frantically. "I knew it was coming. I knew the Father would punish me."

He dropped to his knees, exhausted. Tears were now falling freely from his eyes. He brought the knife up his throat, ready to sever the artery. Darla grabbed his hand, stopping him from killing himself.

"No," she said. "No, Reese. God wants you to do as I say. That's why I was brought to you."

The knife dropped to the ground, forgotten. Reese stood up, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"God wants me to help you?"

"Yes."

"That's all?"

"That's all. Then your work will be over."

"That's all I want. I just want it to be over. I don't want to kill anymore."

"Oh, don't say that, Reese. Our mission is going to require many deaths."

"All right, all right. I'll do it. But after it's finished..."

"I'll end it. You won't be in pain anymore." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Now let's go, Reese. Boulder is still a ways off."

Reese picked up his knife. The two of them got into the car. Not a single vehicle had passed them by since they had stopped. The car started up, pulled onto the asphalt and they were gone.

Lara was almost asleep on Dana's wonderfully comfortable bed when she heard her lover's voice from the other room. Dana had gone to get something to drink.

"Goddamnit," Dana said.

Lara got up and walked swiftly into the living room, worried.

"What is it, Dana?" she asked.

Dana turned to her lover, holding a letter up in the air.

"We've got a problem," Dana said.

Boulder, CO

"Donna? Donna, are you there?"

Donna stormed out of the kitchen the moment she heard the voice.

"Gersten!? Where have you been?" she said, approaching Gersten, who had just walked into the house.

"I just went out to get some milk," Gersten said, holding up the carton for her older sister to see. "This house is deprived of milk. Did you realize that?"

"Gersten, I can do that kind of thing. You shouldn't be out."

"Donna, it's been six months. If anything else was going to happen, don't you think it would have already?"

"But...you...it's freezing out, you could get sick."

"Okay, *Mom*, not only did I take the car, but I also took my coat."

Gersten spread her arms, showing off her brown, wool coat.

"I...I'm just worried, that's all."

"I'll be okay, Donna, you don't have to dote over me. In fact, I should get my own place now."

"Just a couple more months, Gersten, that's all I ask."

Gersten sighed, putting the milk down and taking off her coat.

"What am I going to do with you?" she said, giving her older sister a hug.

Neither of them noticed a dark figure, dressed to the Nth degree in winter layers, watching their cabin from the woods with a pair of binoculars. The figure looked up from the binoculars and regarded the sky for a moment. Lightening flashed, exploding somewhere close to the Hayward cabin. A dark, winter storm was nigh.

To be continued...