Title: Fin, Part 3

Author: Dana E. Vassy (Lola's pseudonym)

Rating: PG13 but this may verge on NC17 for references – wait till you read part 5!

Category: MSR, character angst, Scully POV

Teaser: Our favourite agents are called to Glasgow to investigate some mysterious happenings on the Glasgow Underground. And the events are not the only mystery involved. A response to a challenge to write how the series should bow out...

Disclaimer: Chris, ol buddy ol pal - I know they're yours. 1013 and Fox have their rights kind of respected. The Underground belongs to Scottish Passenger Transport (SPT) but only because no one else wants it. Any secondary characters are all mine Mwahahahah...If you wanna sue me Chris, it would make you a bad person. I have to support my daughter Daisy dontcherknow. And what would young Dana think of you etc? But seriously - legal action? Don't. I have a lot of friends in high places....

Dedications: To all at DFHB, CADF, anti-fowley and an XFObsession and Mulder Lovers 4MSR. To Jill whose fencer fic inspired me to write again, and Jamie for reminding me why I love literature. LisMee for everything! Elaine Sutherland for her anecdote about arranging a Scottish wedding for Americans. Philip, I hope you're still proud honey!

Her heart pounded in her ears. Each breath took an eternity to emerge. Focus, Dana. Her finger hovered over the trigger. It was too dark to make out the silhouette, the invader. It appeared to be a man, but then, so had Fowley. Should she allow the concealed form to reveal itself or shoot as a precaution? Teeth clenched, she raised her arms, gun held firmly. One; two;

“Mulder…?”

“Morning sleepyhead. You always this pleased to see me?” his laughter was scarcely hidden as he traversed the thick carpet to the bed.

“…It can’t be, it’s still dark” Scully protested as she tried to regain her composure.

“Welcome to 8am in Glasgow” he smirked, sexy as ever – even in crumpled sweatpants and tee.

Eyes rolled skyward, Scully crawled out from under her sheets and stood beside her partner. They were about the same height with him perched on the bed. Ushering him out, she quickly showered and dressed. Make-up was basic, no point in making an effort for it to be spoiled by the rain. With a sigh, she set off in search off aliens on the Underground, but more importantly, coffee.

Mulder explained his ‘theories’ as they drove back to the West End. He practically choked on his coffee as he told her of a past X-File that had occurred on the New York subway. It seemed highly improbable, as ever. Pity the souls who worked on that one. Scully had not quite managed to restore her original scepticism, despite her findings in Africa. While there was no human explanation, that did not refer it immediately to extra-terrestrials. But a part of her did wonder, after all Mulder believed in it so wholeheartedly. Besides, the issue here was discovering what was on the Underground, not if little green men in spaceships were about to pay a visit.

Dodging the first deluge of students leaving Hillhead, the agents made their way to the platform. The Outer Circle had been closed to allow their investigation, so they headed into the tunnel, attracting barely a glance from the next load of commuters. All except two. They bickered between themselves as they moved along the platform. One was complaining about her friend lying down and trying to sleep on the train, while the other joked about her companion actually being awake before midday. They looked curiously at the agents, as though they were familiar.

“Get a move on LisMee, or I’ll set my coleslaw plant on you”

“Muh!”

Scully smiled to herself at their friendly banter. It was reminiscent of Mulder and herself, before last week. Now he was defensive after she had withdrawn from his warm hug, she had feared she would be unable to contain herself. Wincing at the cramp pain in her stomach, she followed her intrigued partner into the darkness. Funny, since her abduction and the operation, she had never been upset about not having periods. The obvious problem was not being able to conceive. Still….

Flashlights on full beam, both agents searched the tunnel for some sign of life. There was a distant scraping, which Scully dismissed as irrelevant. Then Mulder shone his flashlight to find strange markings low down on one wall. Both recognised it as the Navajo code from the mysterious rubbings. Searching her extensive memory, Scully let out a sharp gasp.

“Mulder…” she breathed. “I recognise this. It’s from a holy book… predicting the sixth extinction.”

Her rapid breathing and obvious concern was enough for Mulder. There was something down here, and he would find it, regardless. A rumbling far behind them signalled a train in motion. But, the trains didn’t travel in that direction. In sudden realisation, Mulder grabbed Scully and pushed her into one of the shallow alcoves. Seeing no other, he pressed against her, face first. If her breathing had been agitated before, it was even worse now. They waited, and Scully prayed, until the horrid orange vehicle rattled past at high speed.

Then she felt it. Mulder’s excitement had become noticeable in a certain area. Cautiously, she looked up. To meet an intent stare, asking her if this was alright for her. Her lips parted slightly, she moved to kiss Mulder: to tell him that, yes, she did want him. But as their mouths were mere millimetres apart, voices interrupted them. Since the damn bees were obviously not in Scotland, it would be SPT employees that ruined the moment. Mulder stepped away from her and into their torchlight, pulling his coat closed to conceal his predicament. It took all of Scully’s willpower to suppress her nervous giggle.

A brief conversation determined that the train was not supposed to have passed, and was found empty three stations down the track. Then, to everyone’s surprise, Mulder asked that he and Scully be left to investigate alone. The disgruntled men trooped off, secretly glad to be out of danger, and to leave the crazy Americans to get on with their quest. With a coy smile, Mulder motioned for her to follow him. In a new, comfortable silence, Scully reached or his hand. He returned the gesture, and they fell into step with one another. Her head was like a washing machine on spin cycle. Was this another dream? Would they be in trouble for violating FBI protocol? Did she even care? The small gesture between them was worth a thousand conversations. Finally, it seemed as though things were on the up – literally and figuratively.

http://lola.ismad.com Go on, you know you want to

"I have a history of taking my off my shirt" BNL
da Fowl? I think so......

"I'll be grateful when she's dead"

"And it wasn't even real cream cheese it was light
cream cheese"

Text file Source (historic): geocities.com/mulderlovers4msr

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