TITLE: Standin' at the Crossroads

NAME: frogdoggie

E-MAIL: frogdoggie@hotmail.com

CATEGORY: XRA

RATING: NC-17, and I mean it. This story contains graphic language, sexual situations and violence. It also contains references to the occult, the Devil, and conversely, God and faith. IF ANY OF THESE SUBJECTS DISTURB YOU, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. Lastly, there are some magical rituals mentioned which are a combination of different arcane ceremonies. None of them are completely authentic or accurate. So, please folks, as the saying goes, do not try this at home! Once again, this is a very adult horror story. Forewarned is forearmed. If you don't care for really graphic stuff, STOP HERE!

SUMMARY: Mulder, Scully and Skinner travel to Maine on a case that proves to be a very dangerous and then deadly, X-File. FEEDBACK PLEASE, IF AT ALL POSSIBLE. I AM DOWN ON BENDED KNEES! Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? Flames are for roasting 'weenies'.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING.: No spoilers, except maybe for the quote at the end. Timespan? I hate to pigeon hole this story. I think maybe it happens in some alternate universe - ha! - the universe of my imagination, I guess. It would be, however after Scully's cancer is in remission as that does effect the plot. Please note also: Stephen King decided to write an episode set in Maine called Chinga. I began work on this story before that episode was a gleam in his eye, or at least before I heard about it. So, the setting of this story is Maine and I didn't want to change it. I guess this is my version of a Maine X-File. Sorry, Mr. King.

KEYWORDS: x-file romance angst Scully Mulder Skinner NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, and Dana Scully and A. D. Skinner belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use. The lyrics to Cross Road Blues are by Robert Johnson and belong to CBS Records. Inc. The song is on the Robert Johnson, The Complete Recordings, 2 CD set.

 Standin' at the Crossroads

by frogdoggie

 Webster's defines "at the crossroads" as "at the point where one must choose between different courses of action."

It was a hot mid-July day and Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder were, for once, enjoying the air conditioned basement office in the J. Edgar Hoover building. Each sat absorbed in their separate tasks, and the refreshingly cool air circulated around them.

"Mulder, what are you reading?" Scully asked her partner as he looked up from the open book on his desk. Mulder stared over his glasses at her and then pushed them back up his nose before he replied.

"What?" he asked, somewhat tight lipped.

"I just wondered what you were so engrossed in," Scully asked as she sat across the room, typing into her laptop computer. Mulder seemed tense and an alarm bell went off in Scully's head - the bell that warned of an impending X-File and a possibly unpleasant one at that.

"Oh, this, it's just a little light reading," he answered lifting the book up so that she could see the title.

"The Encyclopedia of Horror and The Supernatural?" Scully observed eyebrow raised. "Your idea of light reading Mulder? I'd call it a little dark if you ask me."

Mulder half smiled but it didn't reach his eyes as he replied, "it may be dark, but it is shedding some light on this letter I received yesterday." "Want to take a look?" he added.

"Why do I think I'll regret it if I do?" Scully inquired as she got up and crossed over to stand by his chair. 

"Ouch! You wound me to the quick," Mulder retorted half-heartedly as he handed her the neatly folded piece of paper. Scully unfolded it and began to read. 

I went to the crossroad
fell down on my knees
I went to the crossroad
fell down on my knees
Asked the Lord above "Have mercy
save me, if you please." 

Mmmmmm, standin' at the crossroad
I tried to flag a ride
Standin' at the crossroad
I tried to flag a ride
Didn't nobody seem to know me
everybody pass me by

Mmm, the sun goin' down boy
dark gon' catch me here
oooo ooee eee
boy, dark gon' catch me here
I haven't got no lovin' sweet woman that
love and feel my care 

You can run, you can run
tell your friend Walter Skinner
You can run
tell your friend Walter Skinner
Lord, that I'm standin' at the crossroad, babe
I believe I'm sinkin' down 

Come to the Crossroads, Fox, before it's too late. 

The letter was hand written in pencil and printed, not written in script. The writing was in a child's neat but stilted style. Scully looked up from reading and said, "I didn't know your fans were into sending you the lyrics to blues songs." 

"Ha, very good, Scully, you never cease to amaze me," Mulder replied a weak, half smile still on his face. "An old blues tune as a matter of fact, Robert Johnson, circa 1936 or 1937, I believe. I looked it up - the words are pretty much the same except for the obvious additions..." Mulder added, his voice trailing off. 

"All right, what does this have to do with the X-Files?" Scully asked.

'And what in heaven's name does it have to do with Skinner?' she thought. 

Mulder looked at her 'she always asks that,' he thought distantly. 'it's like some kind of catch phrase for her, like magic words,' and Scully continued when he didn't immediately answer. 

"I mean, Mulder, it's obviously a crank letter, someone is just trying to push your buttons, that's all. It's some kind of sick prank," she finished placing the letter back down on his desk. 

"Yeah, I thought so too, until I got this second letter this morning," he answered with real tension in his voice. He pulled a second folded piece of paper from beneath another book, 'The Handbook of Voodoo Ritual' which also sat on his desk. He handed it to Scully without preamble and then sat back rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. 

Scully unfolded the second letter and read it too, and it chilled her.

There was only one line on the page and a signature. 

"Please come, Fox, before it's too late."

Love, Samantha 

"Oh, Mulder...." Scully began, her whole face pulling down in an anxious frown. 

"Hey, it's all right," Mulder hastened to reply. 

"No, it's not all right, this is absolutely sadistic," she fumed, angrily tossing the letter onto his desk for emphasis. 

Mulder just stared at her, and then he turned to his suit coat hanging on the back of his chair, and took out an envelope from inside the inner pocket. He opened the envelope and pulled out a third letter. Mulder carefully unfolded the paper and smoothed the page flat next to the first and second letters on his desk. 

"If it's a sick joke it's a pretty elaborate and convincing one..." he replied quietly, gesturing for Scully to compare all three pieces of paper spread out on the desktop. 

"Uh, I brought this in this morning," Mulder stated quietly, indicating the third piece of paper. 

Scully drew closer and bent over to look at the letters. The last letter was dated from the year before Samantha's disappearance and it was obviously a letter from Mulder's sister to her big brother. The little girl had been writing from a summer camp somewhere and Scully was touched by the love for her big brother that shown through her childish scrawl. A childish scrawl that was absolutely identical to the handwriting in the other two letters - letters that were not dated but must have been written...? Scully wondered just when the other letters had been written. 

"What was the postmark on the other two letters?" she asked Mulder. 

Mulder pulled the envelopes from under 'The Handbook of Voodoo Ritual' and showed them both to Scully. The postmarks were only three days old and from Crossroads, Maine. Scully raised an eyebrow at the city's name. Mulder remained mute. 

Scully turned them over in her hands and examined the envelopes. They were fresh, like they'd just come out of a newly opened box of business sized envelopes. She touched the first two letters again and the paper was crisp and new as well. 

"Mulder, this doesn't make any sense. I mean, these last two letters - if they were written by your sister, her writing would have changed by now. She's a woman, not a little girl anymore," Scully said gently. 

Mulder reached over and carefully picked up Samantha's summer camp letter. Scully couldn't help but notice the letter's fragility. It was obviously old, and she was touched as Mulder cautiously and tenderly folded it up and placed it back in it's accompanying envelope. 'God, he must have kept that letter all these years,' Scully thought and she suddenly had a very tight feeling in her chest, as Mulder slipped the envelope back inside his jacket pocket. 

"Mulder, I..." she began, but he interrupted her. 

"I know what you're going to say, but, look, I have to find out about these letters. Christ, if there's any possibility, no matter how remote that Samantha sent them - I have to know," he stated. 

Scully sighed. She saw the single mindedness in his face. She knew what it meant. The logical, eidetic brain that Mulder had was shutting down and the irrational, emotional Mulder brain was taking over as it always did in matters involving his sister. She also knew she was going to go along for the roller coaster ride that was most likely coming and she said, "All right, Mulder...but what do all these books have to do with the letters?" she finally asked. 

Mulder squared his shoulders and grinned slightly, and Scully knew that her tacit approval had buoyed his spirits, and she felt good about it. He took his glasses off and put them on his desk. 

"Well, I've been doing a little research on the symbology of 'The Crossroads,' he began in way of explanation, "The crossroads or more specifically, a crossroad, is very significant. There are references to crossroads in just about every magical belief system across numerous cultures. The meaning varies all the way from a spot that's magically dangerous and should be avoided at all costs, especially after dark, as in the Robert Johnson song, to a place where it's perfectly acceptable to practice ritual magic. For instance in the voudon religion..." 

"Voudon, like Voodoo? As in little dolls with pins?" Scully interrupted skeptically. "And what does this have to do with Skinner?" she belatedly asked. 

"Hey, I would have thought you'd be a bit less skeptical where voodoo is concerned, especially after...." Mulder's comment was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone on his desk. He focused on it and then picking up the receiver, placed it to his ear. 

"Mulder," he growled into the phone obviously annoyed at the interruption, but his tone quickly became much more formal, "Yes, yes Sir, all right, we're on our way," he said and then he placed the receiver slowly back in it's cradle. He looked at the phone for a second with furrowed brow, and then turned to Scully, a confused look on his face, "That was Skinner, he wants to see us immediately," he told her, "and he sounds pissed," he finished, reaching for his suit coat. 

Both Agents gave each other a look that said 'What the hell?' But, they knew better than to keep Assistant Director Walter Skinner waiting, and they both exited the basement office, thoughts of voodoo and the enigmatic letters from Samantha rattling around in their heads. 

A.D. Walter Skinner's secretary ushered Mulder and Scully into Skinner's office so quickly that they barely had time to prepare themselves for what was likely to be a chewing out session.

 Scully looked at the harried woman and thought, 'Lord, he must really be on the warpath this afternoon!' 

Mulder took one look at the woman and thought, 'It looks like it's bend over and assume the position time again,' and he took in a deep breath to prepare himself for Skinner's wrath. 

Skinner had his back to them when they entered, and as the secretary announced them, and then beat a hasty retreat, shutting the door behind her, he turned around. His face was tight and his eyes were narrowed to two flinty lines behind his glasses. The Assistant Director was indeed royally pissed, and he was working to control the emotion before it broke free and scorched them all with it's heat. 

"Sit down," he hissed indicating the two chairs in front of his desk and both Agents played musical chairs to see which one of them could take a seat faster. 

Skinner had a piece of paper in his hand and as soon as they were seated he brandished it at Fox Mulder and spat out between clenched teeth, "Do you have any explanation for this Agent Mulder?" 

Mulder gazed back at Skinner, a blank look on his face. 

Scully thought, 'Well, it looks like I'm off the hook this afternoon," as Mulder replied in his best conciliatory tone. 

"An explanation for what, Sir?" 

"For this letter!" Skinner almost shouted at the bewildered Agent. 

Scully suddenly had a sinking feeling in her stomach, and from the look on Mulder's face something similar must have been going on in his guts as well. 

"Letter?" Mulder asked slowly and then he extended his hand towards the fuming Assistant Director. Skinner thrust the letter into Mulder's waiting fingers, and then he stood over the younger man, his hands on his hips. 

Mulder read the letter over carefully and then he looked up at Skinner and kept eye contact with him as he slowly passed the letter over to Scully. 

Skinner's head swiveled from Mulder to Scully as she plucked the paper from Mulder's hand and read. 

It was essentially the same letter Mulder had shown her, but with the Robert Johnson blues song written in an elegant script, a woman's hand. 'In fact, the letter even smells faintly of a woman's perfume,' Scully thought. The only difference in this letter and the one they had left behind on Mulder's desk was that instead of 'tell your friend Walter Skinner' it said, 'tell your friend Fox Mulder.' Scully handed the letter to Skinner and looked at Mulder with a raised eyebrow. 

"What the hell is going on?" Skinner demanded angrily looking from one to the other as he took the letter and put it back on his desk. 

"Sir," Scully began, "I'm sure Agent Mulder doesn't know anything more than you do about that letter. As a matter of fact, he has a very similar letter on his desk right now." 

"Yeah, except instead of Fox Mulder it says 'tell Walter Skinner on mine," Mulder added, rubbing his hand through his hair. 

"All right, then can I assume you don't know anything about this letter either?" Skinner asked walking to his desk and grabbing a different piece of paper from it. 

Mulder took the second sheet and this time he read it aloud. 

"Come to the Crossroads, Walter, for old times sake.

Please, before it's too late"

Love, Maggie 

Skinner snatched it back from Mulder, embarrassment suddenly joining the consternation that was all ready on his face. He threw the paper down next to it's mate and glared at Mulder. 

"When did you receive these letters?" Scully asked in an attempt to salvage a potentially explosive situation. 

"I've been out of the office for a couple of days, I got them both this morning," Skinner replied tersely. 

"Sir, I don't know anything about these letters," Mulder broke in quickly "And if it's any consolation, my second letter said, 'Love, Samantha,' he added looking down at his hands. 

Skinner blinked at Mulder for a moment and then the anger seemed to drain out of him all at once. He walked back over to his desk and sat down, heavily, behind it. 

"You're telling me you got two nearly identical letters?' he asked. 

"Yes," Mulder replied flatly. 

"And the letters were seemingly written in Agent Mulder's sister's handwriting," Scully explained, "of course further analysis might prove that assumption untrue, but from just cursory examination, they were either identical or very expert forgeries," she added. 

"How did you know that?" Skinner asked quietly. 

"We knew it because, uh, I brought in a letter my sister had written to me years ago, and Scully and I compared all three letters. They're identical, Sir," Mulder stated with conviction. 

Scully glanced at Mulder and breathed deeply. Before she could say anything else Skinner was opening the center drawer in his desk and pulling out an old envelope. He placed it carefully on his blotter and opened it up. 

"Yeah, well, I had a similar feeling about the handwriting in the letters I received so I sent them over to Bill Burke, for a handwriting analysis," Skinner began, fingering the folded paper he had taken from the envelope. 

"Burke really knows his stuff," Mulder interrupted. 

"Burke says the first two were written by the same person," Skinner stated. 

The two Agents looked at him as he continued, "which means I guess that they are identical to this letter," he sighed, unfolding the paper and facing it towards the two Agents. 

Mulder and Scully both got up and stepped over to peer down at the letter. 

Scully scanned the contents and as she did her face flushed red, "Oh my God,' she thought, 'it's a *Dear John* letter,' and 'what must it be costing him to show this to us?' followed the first thought, and then, 'why did he keep it?' but she kept reading. 

'Shit,' was all Mulder could think. 

Dearest Walter, 

I hope you'll understand. I know it's going to be hard, but I don't know any other way to tell you - I've met someone else. I'm so sorry I had to let you know this way, because I really do care for you. I know I said I would wait, but it's just that, well, I've fallen in love with someone else. 

Please forgive me, and don't think it's anything you said or did. It's just me. You're a good man, Walter and I know you'll find someone else to share your life with when you come back. God Bless, and keep you, and bring you back safe. 

Love,

Maggie 

Scully finished reading and she couldn't look up at Skinner, 'no way,' she thought, so she glanced over at Mulder but he seemed to be reading the letter again. She looked over at the empty envelope on Skinner's desk and she could just make out, reading upside down, the return address - 'Maggie Flynn, Crossroads, Maine.' 

Skinner was saying something however, and then Scully had to look up at him. There was a very far away look in his eyes. 

"She sent me that letter six months after I'd been *In Country*, Vietnam, I mean," he cleared his throat. "After I was wounded and got my discharge, I half thought about looking her up, but couldn't bring myself to do it." "I moved on, I didn't even go back there," he said. 

"Back to where, Sir?" Mulder asked quietly having finally finished reading the letter. 

"To Crossroads, Maine" Skinner replied, the far away look still on his face, "I'd been working up there on a summer job, on a fishing boat, just before I enlisted. I was only 18 years old - still wet behind the ears - hell, you can guess the rest," he blustered. 

"Yes, Sir," Mulder commented neutrally. Scully remained silent. In truth she was slightly awed by the fact that Skinner was telling them any of this, and she was acutely uncomfortable over the fact. 

"I heard from her a couple of more times over the years though. She'd tracked me down somehow, and wrote to congratulate me when I graduated from the Academy, and then when I got married. I heard from her for the last time about 7 years ago. She and her husband were running a little bed and breakfast just outside of Crossroads, I guess. She had sounded happy in the letter...." he let his voice trail off as he took off his glasses and checked them for lint.

"Sir, Flynn was her maiden name?" Scully asked gently indicating the envelope on Skinner's desk. Mulder examined it then too as Skinner placed his glasses back on. 

"Yes, she married Kevin Boyce, a local guy and settled down in Crossroads, they owned Boyce's Bed and Breakfast. Her maiden name was Flynn. Margaret Flynn." 

"And the writing is identical," Mulder agreed as he turned his attention to all three letters laying on top of Skinner's blotter. 

"Yes," Skinner retorted sharply, still embarrassed at revealing such a personal memory to them. "Hell, that first letter even smells like.." 

"Her perfume?" Scully asked. 

"Yes," he sighed the memory of Margaret Flynn obviously still painful to him.

"So..." Skinner had started to talk again, but suddenly Scully's cell phone beeped. 

A mystified look on her face, Scully pulled phone out of her jacket pocket and pressed a button on it's face, "excuse me" she whispered politely, and then "Scully," she said into the receiver end. 

Mulder and Skinner watched her as she took the call. 

"Who is this?" she gasped slightly into the phone, "How did you get my number?" and then all the color drained from her face and her blue eyes got very wide. 

Mulder glanced in alarm at Skinner, and going to her side pressed his ear against the outside part of the cell phone. He could just make out a male voice singing something into Scully's ear. 'It sounds like, it sounds like that Robert Johnson blues tune,' Mulder thought, 'Hell, it's definitely the tune, and it's saying *tell your friends, Dana,* and he looked at Skinner and whispered, "Can we trace this?" 

Skinner shook his head - "not with any accuracy on a cell phone," he advised in a low voice as Scully's face began to register more and more horror. 

Mulder pressed his ear to the phone once more and he noticed that the cellular was shaking because Skully's hand was trembling. He could just make out the voice and it was saying, "Come to the Crossroads, Starbuck, before it's too late," and there was a click as the line went dead, and Scully dropped the cellular to the office floor. 

Scully stood momentarily paralyzed and then her face contorted with a mixture of anger and fear and her knees seemed to suddenly weaken. Mulder grasped her arm as she rocked back and fell into the chair she had been sitting in. 

"Scully, are you all right?" Mulder asked touching her hair, her shoulder and her back in quick succession. He was seething with anger and worry, and his hand shook slightly. 

"Of course, she's not all right," Skinner blurted as he made a hasty exit towards his executive bathroom. He returned quickly, and carried a glass of water. Scully took the glass from him and drained it in one long, steady gulp. Skinner walked over and gingerly picked up the cell phone as if it was hot, setting it on the corner of his desk. 

"Agent Scully, who was that on the phone?" he asked his face tight with tension. 

Scully couldn't find her voice so Mulder answered for her, "I think it was her father, Sir, Bill Scully. He's the only one I know of that called her Starbuck," he finished. Mulder was surprised at how uneven his voice had become as Skinner blinked back at him in temporary confusion. 

"My father's dead, Mulder," Scully stated flatly, finding her voice at last, "that must have been some sick ba...umm, some misguided person imitating my father's voice," she insisted. 

Scully looked Mulder in the face then and he thought, 'she doesn't believe what she just said at all, she thinks it was her father,' and he forced his face into a blandly neutral expression. Scully caught the look though and flared up at him. 

"Damn it Mulder, it wasn't my father, my father is dead!" and the last four words were shouted into his face with such vehemence that Mulder took a step back. Scully continued to glare at him, her blue eyes like two argon lasers. 

"Agent Scully!" Walter Skinner barked and Scully jumped. He had certainly gotten her attention. 

"Can you really deny it was your father?" Skinner probed watching her face carefully. 

Scully stared down at the water glass she was still holding and replied almost in a whisper, "My father used to sing me to sleep sometimes when I was very small," she said, "the voice, that voice, it, it sounded so much like him...but I just can't believe it was him, I mean, my father, my father's dead," she finished miserably and then she handed the water glass to Skinner because he was now standing the closest to her. 

Mulder frowned deeply and Skinner was doing the same, and both of them stared at the small, still figure of Dana Scully as she sat trembling in the chair. 

At last Skinner moved and he seemed to have come to a decision. He strode over to his phone and rang his secretary. "Sharon, I want you to book a flight for me. Yes, three tickets, for me and Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. Right. From Dulles to Bangor, Maine. The first available flight in the morning. Yes, we'll pick the tickets up at the airport. Yes, no, wait, yes, that might be a good idea. Try to get a four wheel drive vehicle, all right. Thank you," and he hung up the phone. 

Mulder had resumed his position next to Scully and had placed his hand on her shoulder again. Skinner glanced from Scully to Mulder's hand to Mulder's face. Mulder looked a bit stunned. 

"Well, don't you want to investigate this thing?" Skinner asked his voice barely under control. "This is your specialty, isn't it?" 

"Yes sir but I didn't think.." Mulder began. 

"Look, Fox," Skinner said using the Agents Christian name to add emphasis to his words. "Ever since I got those letters I've felt like I had to check out what was going on. I don't want to say I feel compelled, but, hell, I don't know any other way to describe it. I feel drawn back to Crossroads. Like I have to go there, and it's, well, it's scaring the shit out of me," he finished bitterly. 

Mulder considered Skinners words. Skinner watched him closely and then Mulder came to a decision also. 

"Sir, I think you're right, and I think I'm feeling the same way - we feel like we have to go, so...." Mulder began, giving voice to his opinion. 

"We should go," Scully finished for Mulder, looking up at the two men with determination on her face. "I felt exactly the same way the minute I answered that phone call," she added. "Now, wild horses couldn't keep me from going to Maine." 

Skinner's phone beeped. He turned and picked it up. "Yes, excellent. Thank you Sharon, and Sharon, uh, I don't know what I'd do without you. No, that's all right, my fault, yes, thanks, ok," and he hung up. 

"That woman has the patience of Job - working for me she has too," Skinner sighed, a tiny grin just lifting the corner of his mouth as he tried to break the tension in the room. Mulder smirked slightly and Scully just stared for a moment, not sure he was serious, and then she smiled at his unexpected self-depreciation. 

Skinner rubbed his jaw and shifted his tense shoulders, "Go home and pack your bags," he said, we're flying out tomorrow morning at 7 AM." 

Scully left the basement office early, but Mulder had lingered there to pour over his occult books and study the two letters. He wracked his brain over the significance of the song's words. Finally he had underlined Skinner's name and penciled in a question mark next to it. Then he had drawn an arrow down to the lines that said, 'I haven't got no lovin' sweet woman that love and feel my care' and penciled in Maggie Flynn next to them. Somehow, after Skinner had shown them his *Dear John* letter, Mulder had thought those lyrics were too much of a coincidence to ignore. He still tried to determine, though, how any of the lyrics could possibly relate to his sister. About the only lines that applied at all were "Have mercy save me, if you please," and the thought sickened him. There just weren't any easy answers to be discovered in any of the letters. Mulder looked forward to the trip to Crossroads, Maine with a mixture of dread and anticipation. 'At least I'll have some explanation then,' he thought, 'I hope,' he sighed. 

Mulder put the letters into his inside suit coat pocket, slammed the last book he had been reading, *The Book of Ceremonial Magic*, shut and tucking it under his arm, left the building. 

Skinner had gone home, packed and then downed a couple of shots of scotch to steady his nerves. Even with the scotch, sleep had come with difficulty but finally at midnight he was able to close his eyes. 

Scully had gone home immediately, packed and then tried to go to sleep. Sleep was a long time coming and only after a warm shower and cup of *Celestial Seasonings Sleepy Time Tea* was she finally able to close her eyes. 

Mulder tossed and turned on the couch in his apartment. He dreamed his sister was calling his name, "Fox help me, please, help me," and he woke shouting "Samantha!?" 'God, what had I been dreaming,' he thought, suddenly unable to remember. 

Scully tossed in her bed. She dreamed that her father was calling her name, "Starbuck, help me, please, help me," and she woke screaming, "Daddy!?" 'Oh my God, what was I dreaming about?' she thought, suddenly unable to remember.

Skinner tossed in his bed. He dreamed of Maggie Flynn but she wasn't calling for help. Instead she was screaming in ecstasy as he thrust into her and he woke, sweating in the dark. "What the hell?" he thought, suddenly unable to remember. 

In Crossroads, Maine, a dark haired woman woke screaming, "Walter, no!" 

Dulles airport was busy as usual even for the early morning hour. A taciturn Skinner had picked both Mulder and then Scully up at their apartments and then driven them to the airport. It had been hard to find a spot in long term parking, but Skinner had finally managed to locate one fairly close to the terminal. The trio walked the rest of the way to the departure gate and as Mulder and Skinner strode ahead, Scully struggled to keep up. 

'God, why is it that every man I know forgets to take into account the difference in my height,' Scully thought tiredly, just as Skinner glanced back and then slowed down to allow her to catch up. Mulder, in his usual single minded way, strode ahead. Scully just watched his receding back and sighed. Mulder reminded her of a blood hound hot on the scent whenever he got like this, and Scully was usually left in the dust. 

"Agent Mulder, where's the fire?" Skinner called after Mulder, and the other man stopped and turned around, squinting into the sun at them. He waited for them to catch up, garment bag slung over one shoulder, and when Scully and Skinner reached him, he walked on into the terminal in silence. 

The flight to Bangor was uneventful, Scully sat next to Mulder and Skinner was seated directly across from them in an aisle seat. Skinner had been squirming in his seat for the last 15 minutes or so because next to a him was a very garrulous little old lady. The grandmotherly woman was regaling Skinner with stories of her many grand children and soon, she was calling him Walter, and talking about her latest surgery. Scully almost laughed at the look on the Assistant Director's face. 

Mulder was reading a thick volume, *The Book of Ceremonial Magic*, which he had brought along on the trip. Scully got a look at some of it, when Mulder held the book flat and it was so bizarre that she really didn't want to read any more, so she looked out the window, read the boring in-flight magazine, and then finally dozed off, sagging against Mulder's shoulder. 

The gentle pressure of Scully's head and the exhalation of her sleeping breath against his neck, finally caused Mulder to quietly close his book and glance over to study his partner. Her face was unlined and devoid of worry. He was glad that she was getting some rest. She had looked very tired this morning and Mulder had been concerned that she hadn't slept well the night before either. He was sure that all of them were going to need every once of strength they had once they reached Crossroads, Maine. He was worried for Scully's safety. 'OK, shoot me for being overprotective,' he thought. Sometimes he just couldn't help wanting to protect her even though he knew Scully hated it when he did. 

Scully shifted slightly and snuggled even closer to him. One of her hands came up to rest lightly on his arm and her hair spilled down over the side of her face. Mulder allowed himself a half smile as he reached over and gently pushed her hair back behind her ear. Impulsively he let his fingers just brush her cheek. Mulder didn't know why he had wanted to touch Scully at precisely that moment. 'Well, that isn't quite true,' he mused ruefully, and then he pushed the feeling into the back of his mind where other similar moments were kept well hidden. 

The rest of the flight seemed to pass quickly and the plane landed at Bangor International Airport pretty much on schedule. Skinner's secretary had made arrangements for them to rent a four wheel drive vehicle. The black Ford Explorer was waiting for them when the shuttle dropped them off at the rental car agency. 

There was a brief awkward moment as Skinner and Mulder tried to decide who was going to drive. Finally, incredibly, Skinner took Mulder's suggestion and they flipped for it. Skinner won. Mulder offered to let Scully ride shotgun but she told him "no, that's fine, I'll be happy to sit in the back." Somehow the thought of sitting next to Skinner until they reached their destination made her slightly car sick. 

So, their seating arrangements decided, Skinner guided the Ford out onto state highway 9 northeast and towards the Maine coast. Mulder soon fell asleep in the front passenger seat and Scully passed the time by looking out the window. 

At about the halfway point between Bangor and Crossroads, Skinner pulled off the highway at a service area. 'Thank God,' Scully thought, her legs had fallen asleep at least five miles back. Mulder made a beeline for the restroom. Scully had begun to think that this road trip was turning into one of her childhood family vacations when her father was trying to make time, and pit stops were few and far between. She decided to avail herself of the ladies room as well as long as she had the opportunity. It was anybody's guess when they'd stop again. Scully walked into the service area building and then her shoulders sagged as she spotted the women's restroom. 'It figures,' she sighed, taking a spot at the end of the long line. 

Mulder returned from the restroom to see Skinner, foot propped up on the Ford's bumper sipping a soda and holding a half eaten hot dog. There were two more sodas and hot dogs sitting on top of the vehicle's roof. 

"I drove off and left something up there once," Mulder commented as he walked up to the Assistant Director, "I take it this is lunch?" he added with amusement. 

Skinner indicated the sodas and replied, "Diet Cokes," and "what's the matter, don't you like hot dogs?" as he continued to drink his Coke while scanning the crowd in the parking lot. 

Mulder thought Skinner looked like he was on duty, and he guessed in a strange way, he was, but he didn't say anything about it, and picked up one of the Cokes, "Hot dogs are fine, Sir," was all he said instead. 

"Straw?" Skinner asked, pulling one from his suit coat pocket. 

Mulder took it from him and said, "Thanks." He tapped the end of the straw against the Ford's side, it burst through the paper wrapper and he popped the straw into the cup. He almost threw the wrapper on the ground, looked at Skinner, thought better of it, and walked over and put it in a trash can. 

When he returned to the side of the Explorer, Skinner was almost through with his soda and the hot dog was gone. He was staring at Mulder as if he had something to say. Mulder stood waiting and sipping, waiting and sipping, and finally Skinner spoke up. 

"Look, Mulder, does this trip make as little sense to you as it does to me?" 

"Sir?" Mulder asked puzzled, as he reached for one of the hot dogs. 

"It's just that, well, I've never been very good with this type of thing - running off on a whim I mean. I'm not used to following an impulse, acting irrationally, going on intuition, or compulsion or well...Crap. What I'm trying to say is, this isn't my usual way of operating." 

"You mean it's more like my way of operating?" Mulder asked sardonically. 

Skinner gave him a scathing look, but Mulder figured he had hit the nail on the head. 

"Whatever," Skinner continued, "But, look - Margaret Flynn meant a lot to me Mulder, and if there's even one chance in a million that she wrote those letters, then maybe she does need my help and I can't overlook that possibility. And if she didn't write those letters then whoever did is going to have hell to pay," he added angrily. 

"I think I know what you mean," Mulder replied quietly, thinking of his sister. 

Skinner glanced at him and replied, "Yes, I suppose you do." 

"But it bothers you to feel out of control?" Mulder asked carefully. 

"Yes, exactly, out of control," Skinner agreed, "and I don't think I like the feeling," he added, dropping his empty soda cup to the ground and crushing it under his heel. 

Mulder sighed. He had lived most of his life since his involvement with the X-Files in a state somewhere between rationality and irrationality and now it seemed fairly normal to him. But, he could understand that this same concept would probably turn Skinner's world upside down. He had no idea what they were going to face in Crossroads, but he did have the idea that all of them would have to deal with the irrational before very much longer. 

"Sir, the only advice I can give you is, go with the flow, because if you try to paddle upstream against the current you're going to end up.." 

"going crazy," Skinner asked. 

Mulder just looked at him, raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his Coke. 

"All right," Skinner replied. "I'll consider your advice, Agent Mulder," he added as he took his crushed Coke cup to the trash can. 

"I wonder what happened to Scully?" Mulder asked peering off in the general direction of the service building and taking a bite of his hot dog. 

"Long line," Skinner replied, "my wife used to complain like hell at rest stops because there was always a long line for the women's restroom," Skinner added. 

Mulder nodded and then Skinner said, "you'd better take her soda into the shade or it'll be nothing but brown water by the time she comes back." 

Mulder wolfed down the rest of his hot dog and then picked up Scully's cup and hot dog and walked over under one of the trees that bordered the parking lot. He wondered briefly how Skinner could stand out in the sun like that and not burn the hell out of his head. Just as he thought it, Skinner walked over and joined him in the shade. 

Presently Scully returned and Mulder handed her the Diet Coke and hot dog. 

"Oh, thank-you," she said somewhat surprised and looking at Mulder. 

"You're welcome," Skinner replied. 

Scully looked from Mulder to Skinner and then thought 'oops, I should have known better,' "Oh, thank you, Sir," she stammered hastily.

Before she could embarrass herself any further Mulder said, "Shall we hit the road, then?" 

"Fine." Scully stated quickly, heading towards the Ford. She tried to juggle the Coke and the hot dog to open the door, but found it impossible. Skinner reached over and opened it for her. "Thanks," she said as she sought refuge in the back seat.

Skinner continued to drive and they spent the remainder of the trip in relative silence. 

By late afternoon they had reached the outskirts of Crossroads, right on the Maine coast and were greeted with a typically quaint New England town. There were quiet shady streets, little interesting shops, and art galleries, antique dealers, old houses lovingly restored, and well maintained newer structures that were built to blend in with the existing architecture. Everything looked completely like small town *historic landmark* Americana, and Scully, Mulder, and Skinner seemed to relax a bit with the normalcy of it. 

Scully spotted the tasteful sign that advertised the location of Boyce's Bed and Breakfast, and they followed the directions to it's location on the opposite side of Crossroads proper. Skinner had thought it might be a good idea to call ahead but Mulder suggested they just show up and see what kind of reaction they got from Margaret Flynn and her husband. Skinner finally agreed that perhaps that was the best course of action and they had driven out unannounced. 

Scully was instantly impressed with the classic Victorian architecture of the Bed and Breakfast and the fact that it was actually farther from town than she expected, as well as being perched right on lands end, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The view was breathtaking and as the car pulled up out front she watched the gulls wheel and swoop around the widow's walk on top of the house. 

As they exited the Ford, Scully also noticed some scaffolding surrounding one end of the house and several bundles of shingles waiting on the roof. 

Skinner walked straight up the walkway towards the front door but Mulder lingered a moment, reading the little sign out front. Scully drew up beside him and read it too. The sign said, Welcome to Boyce's Bed and Breakfast. Your hostess: Margaret Flynn-Boyce. Mulder's brow was furrowed and Scully said, "Why not Kevin and Margaret Boyce?" 

"I was just thinking the same thing," Mulder replied but then they both realized that Skinner hadn't looked at the sign, and he was all ready on the porch, and pressing the door bell. Both Mulder and Scully hastened to catch up with him. 

He rang the buzzer several times and finally a shadow appeared on the other side of the glass door and the inside door swung open. Mulder and Scully stepped up onto the porch just in time to see a striking woman standing behind the outer screen door. 

Skinner was suddenly speechless and he just stood staring as the woman said, "May I help..." and then stopped dead in mid sentence to say, "Walter? Walter Skinner?" with tremendous emotion in her voice. 

"Hello, Maggie," was all Skinner could manage to get out. 

"My God, Walter, I...My God!" and she opened the screen door and came out onto the porch to get a better look at Skinner. 

Mulder took in the scene and had to admit that Skinner had good taste. Maggie Flynn was beautiful, a classic face and figure that had aged well, with long black (slightly gray in places) hair, tied up behind her head, and arresting blue eyes. She was almost as tall as Skinner and she carried herself , in her light summer dress, with a dancer's grace and poise. 

Mulder looked over at Scully to get her reaction and she glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. Scully was thinking, 'either Margaret Flynn is a consummate actress, or she had no idea Skinner was going to show up on her doorstep,' as the woman took Skinner's hand. 

"Walter, after all these years. Good lord, I thought I was dreaming, what, what are you doing here?" Maggie asked bewildered but obviously glad to see him nonetheless.

Skinner took the hand that was grasping his between both his hands, and gently squeezed it. "Maggie, it's, it's great to see you," he stammered, "Uh, could we come in, my reason for coming here is a little complicated," he added. 

Maggie Flynn looked from Skinner to Mulder, and then Scully, and replied, "Oh, I'm sorry, now rude of me, of course, come in, come in." 

Skinner released her hand and introduced the two Agents, "Maggie, this is Fox Mulder and Dana Scully," 

Scully thought it significant that he didn't say Agents Mulder and Scully. 

"Oh, well, come in, all of you, please, I just put some fresh lemonade in the fridge, I'll go get it," she replied, opening the screen and ushering them inside, "That's the parlor, go on in and sit down and I'll be right back," and she headed off towards the back of the house after shutting the front door. 

Mulder was conscious of the fact that the house looked like an authentic Victorian in both decor and the fact that it lacked central air. However, there were ceiling fans and with the windows open, the proximity of the sea made for excellent cross ventilation. It was really quite breezy and pleasant inside. 

As Skinner prowled the parlor he leaned over and whispered into Scully's ear, "Would you call this decor, early *Martha Stewart's Living* or *The Best of Bob Villa's This Old House*," he quipped. Scully narrowed her eyes at him just as Maggie Flynn returned carrying a tray with the lemonade and four glasses heaped with ice on it. She put the tray down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. She began to pour the lemonade and each of them took a glass and sat down. Skinner moved to sit next to Maggie on the couch. She looked at him then and from the look in her eyes it was evident to both Mulder and Scully, that Walter Skinner had also meant a lot to Maggie Flynn. 

"Walter, what are you doing up here in Maine?" she asked. "You're still with the bureau, aren't you? Is this a business trip?" she asked real curiosity in her every question, "My Lord, it's so good to see you, It's been, how many years since I last wrote you?" she added breathlessly. 

"Seven years," Skinner replied, taking a drink of the lemonade to wet his dry throat. 

"That long, my God..." she replied. 

"Yes, and Maggie, I am still with the Bureau and this is sort of official business," he added reluctantly. 

"Oh?" she replied expectantly, "Official? How can I help?" she added. 

"Well, first of all, this is Agent Fox Mulder, and Agent Dana Scully," he amended their previous introductions, and then he took out his ID with some chagrin and Mulder and Scully did the same. 

Maggie waved them aside with a smile and said, "Walter, please, I'll take your word for it as to who you all are." 

Skinner smiled then for the first time, and Scully thought she could see what Maggie Flynn saw in him all those years ago. 'He should smile more often,' she thought as Skinner replied. 

"Uh, Maggie, I think it would be a good idea if we could talk to Kevin as well," he began, "is he here?" 

Scully winced. From the moment they had come in she had noticed that there was no evidence of a male presence in the house, but the sign out front had been a bigger clue to the fact that Kevin Boyce may not have been in residence any longer. Maggie Flynn's next statement only served to verify Scully's suspicions. 

"Oh, Walter, Kevin, Kevin's dead," she began. Skinner put down his lemonade glass with a click, "he died two years ago. It was an accident, Kevin drowned," she finished quietly. 

Skinner stared at her for a split second and then replied, "God, Maggie, I'm sorry, I had no idea." 

"Well, Walter, how could you have known? It's not like I kept in touch is it?" she sighed. "I'm sorry about that too, I should have stayed in touch, I should have let you know," she added. 

Mulder cleared his throat and then with his usual single minded intensity asked, "So you haven't written to Assistant Director Skinner in over seven years?" 

Maggie Flynn looked from Mulder to Skinner and replied impressed, "Assistant Director?" and then she added, "No, I haven't, not since, when was it again, Walter?" 

"Right after you opened the Bed and Breakfast," Skinner replied never taking his eyes off Maggie Flynn. 

"That's right, that would have been 7 years ago," Maggie shook her head in the affirmative. 

Skinner blinked, having suddenly gotten Mulder's hint and he reached inside his jacket and pulled out the two letters he had received from Crossroads, Maine. 

"Maggie, can I ask you to take a look at these two letters and tell me what you think?" Skinner asked opening both envelopes, removing the letters, and holding them up into the light for her to see. 

The raven haired woman bent over, concentration furrowing her brow as she read first one letter, and then the other. Color drained from her face as she finished, and then she looked up into Skinner's face. 

"Walter, I, what is this all about?" she asked, concerned. 

"Did you write those letters, Maggie?" he asked, falling back into G-Man mode as he watched her face. 

"Did I write them? My God, no, Walter, I didn't write them!" she replied. 

"But it is your handwriting," Skinner pressed. 

She scrutinized the letters again, deep confusion on her face. "Yes, it looks like my handwriting, but I swear to you, I didn't write those letters. It must be some kind of sick joke," she added looking up at both Mulder and Scully. 

"You're saying the letters are forgeries?" Scully asked. 

"Yes, they have to be!" Maggie insisted her voice rising slightly. 

"By whom?" Mulder asked from his chair near the fire place. He was looking, not at Maggie, but at the letters, his eyes squinted as if he was trying to see something that was unclear to him. 

"I have absolutely no idea," she replied, rubbing her arms together as if she were suddenly cold. "God, this is so strange," she said in way of explanation. 

"I'd have to agree with you there," Skinner replied taking the letters and folding them back up. He put them back in the envelopes and tucked them into his suit coat pocket. 

"So, there's nothing wrong up here then, no trouble, no one's been bothering you, no strange letters or threatening phone calls?" Skinner asked carefully, "You, uh, you didn't write these letters to ask for my help?" he added and the last part was very hard for him to say. 

"No!" Maggie answered shock and puzzlement still in her voice. 

Skinner cleared his throat then and it was evident from the expression on his face and his posture that he believed her, and his words backed up his thoughts, "All right. Well, listen, Maggie, we have to find out who sent these letters. Agent Mulder received some very similar correspondence and Agent Scully, well, she's received uh, a rather threatening phone call. We are here to investigate who may have written the letters, and sent them," Skinner explained. 

Scully glanced at Mulder and he shook his head back and forth, in the negative. 'He doesn't believe her?' Scully mused. 

"My God, Walter!" Maggie was exclaiming. "How awful," she added looking at both Mulder and zeroing in on Scully. "How terrible." 

"Yes, well, we will get to the bottom of it," Skinner interrupted her. 

"Is there any way I can help?" Maggie hastened to ask. "You're all welcome to stay here while you continue your investigation, if you'd like. I didn't take any bookings for a couple of weeks, because the roof's being repaired and re-shingled. If you don't mind a little hammering in the morning, you're welcome to stay here, as my guest." 

"That might be a good idea, Sir," Mulder interjected. 

Skinner agreed immediately but added, "But not as your guest, Maggie, this one's on the FBI." Maggie smiled radiantly at him then, and Skinner actually smiled broadly back. 

Mulder watched Skinner and Maggie Flynn interacting and felt a bit uncomfortable, because it really was becoming evident that Skinner had never gotten over Maggie Flynn. Mulder was worried that perhaps he was losing his impartiality in the investigation. He thought that Skinner had jumped to his conclusion about his old flame a little too quickly. Mulder kept his own console for the moment, however, because he figured that if they were going to stay at the Bed and Breakfast all of them would have ample opportunity to find out if Maggie Flynn was telling the truth. 

Skinner and Maggie continued to stare, slightly awestruck to be seeing each other after all these years, and Scully looked over at Mulder and said, "Uh, Sir, Agent Mulder and I will go out and get the luggage if you'd like." 

"Fine," Skinner replied without looking at them. 

Mulder looked at her with a wide eyed stare, and Scully tightened her lips and gestured with her head for him to follow her out the door. 

As soon as they were out on the porch Mulder asked, "What was that all about?" 

"Oh, come on, Mulder don't be so dense." 

"Dense?" he asked affronted slightly as he walked down the steps towards the car. 

"Well, couldn't you see they wanted to be left alone?" she asked following him. 

Mulder just shrugged. Scully pressed the issue. 

"Well, what did you think was going on in there?" she asked. 

"I think we were seeing Skinner losing his objectivity because of her." Mulder stated flatly. 

"Skinner, lose his objectivity?" Scully replied stopping to look into his eyes with an expression that said, 'You've got to be kidding,' and then she added, "I don't think that's a danger." 

"Well, I just don't think it's a good idea to encourage them, we don't know for sure that Maggie Flynn is telling the truth." 

"Oh, come on, Mulder, she was either telling the truth in there, or she's the world's greatest actress."

"So, she convinced you, did she?" Mulder asked. 

"Yes." 

Mulder gave her a sour look as he took out the car keys and unlocked the trunk. He handed Scully her garment bag and then picked up both his own and Skinner's, shutting the hood. Mulder sighed. 

"OK, look. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, for now, at least until I have more information," Mulder said, lowering his voice, "I'm not blind you know, Scully, I saw what was going on in there. I'll cut Skinner some slack. I guess the guy deserves to have a little happiness come his way for a change." 

Scully looked down at her shoes and replied, "Mulder I didn't mean to imply that you were dense, or blind...I'm sorry." 

Mulder looked at her and then waved the garment bag in a dismissive gesture smiling slightly, "Oh, forget it, Scully, I'm just tired I guess, we've all been under a lot of strain, it's ok, let's go back inside." 

Both Agents headed back towards the house. As they approached the porch Mulder gazed off into the distance, into the large and very over grown field that bordered the neatly landscaped area of the Bed and Breakfast. His attention had been caught by something and he dropped the two garment bags he was carrying onto the sidewalk. 

"Mulder, what is it?" Scully asked as he started to walk away. 

"Scully, come here, will you?" Mulder asked, and she followed him as he trotted over to the lawn's border. 

"What does that look like over there," he asked her pointing out into the field at some far off point. 

"A large maple tree?" she guessed. 

"No, off to the right," Mulder insisted. 

"A bunch of rocks," she replied. 

"Rocks, yeah, but not just a bunch of rocks," and he took off across the field, at a dead run. Scully dropped her bag and took off in pursuit. Some of the weeds were nearly up to Scully's shoulders but she ran after him and finally caught up to him just as he was reaching the first of a series of upright stones. 

Mulder walked around the stone grouping and then turning to Scully said, "Do they still look like just a bunch of rocks?" 

"No, of course not," she started to say. 

"These are standing stones, Scully," Mulder interrupted, his excitement barely contained.

"Standing stones as in Stonehedge?" Scully asked retracing the path Mulder had taken around the circle. "God, I think you're right, Mulder," she added as the scaled-down lay-out became clear to her through the weeds. 

"But standing stones, on the coast of Maine?" she asked. Even now she could hear the crashing of the surf. The ocean was very close she thought, possibly right over the rise. 

Mulder walked off, his head bent in thought and he disappeared from view over the small rise in the hill. Scully followed him once again. The ocean stretched out immediately in front of them and Mulder stood on the edge of a shear cliff overlooking it. 

"Oh, Mulder, it's beautiful," Scully breathed before she could even stop herself. As the wind off the ocean whipped her hair around her head she watched Mulder look down at the abrupt drop off. She walked forward to find out what had captured his attention. Mulder turned towards her then, and his hair was blowing across his forehead, and his eyes were reflecting back the dark blue of the water, and she thought, 'God, he's beautiful,' and then she almost slipped, and he reached out and caught her awkwardly in his arms pulling her back from the edge. 

"Watch out there, Scully," he whispered holding her close for a moment. Scully's heart raced, and she wasn't at all sure it was only from the near fall. Mulder released her, and they silently walked back from the cliff's edge to stand amongst the stones. 

"Standing stones have great magical significance, Scully," Mulder said turning around in a circle. 

"I know that Mulder," Scully replied, "But what bearing do they have on this, this trip or quest, or whatever it is, we're on," she added. 

"I'm not sure yet, Scully, but I think I'd like to ask Maggie Flynn what she knows about this stone circle," Mulder replied heading back off across the field. 

Once they were back on the walkway leading up to the house, Mulder picked up the garment bags he had been carrying and walked up onto the porch. Both of them could hear Skinner and Maggie talking inside as they opened the screen door and walked in. Maggie was laughing and smiling at something Skinner had said and Mulder and Scully both felt like intruders as they stood in the parlor's door. 

Maggie was getting up then and so did Skinner. "Let me show you all to your rooms," she was saying. "I hate to put you under the roof repairs, so if you don't mind being split up, I can put two of you upstairs and one of you down here. There's a nice room at the back of the house and the two upstairs rooms are right across from each other and away from the scaffolding." 

"Well, we can take the upstairs rooms, If that's all right with you, Sir," Mulder suggested looking at Skinner. 

"Sure, that would be fine," Skinner answered taking his garment bag from Mulder. 

"All right, I can take you two upstairs then, and Walter, I'll be right back to show you your room." 

"Thanks, Maggie," Skinner replied, and she turned and smiled at him again as she headed up the stairs. 

Mulder and Scully followed her up one flight of stairs, and then up another to their rooms on the top floor. "To tell you the truth, besides not wanting to subject you all to the noise from the repairs, these are the only two rooms I've had time to make up. I'm just letting everything air out so that when the guests start showing up the rooms will be nice and fresh." Maggie explained as he unlocked the door to the first room. 

"We appreciate your hospitality, Maggie," Scully answered. 

"Well, Boyce's Bed and Breakfast has always prided itself on hospitality," she smiled opening the door wide. Both Agents followed her in. The windows on the wall opposite the door showed a spectacular view of the ocean and Scully stood transfixed again at the scene. 

"I guess this will be her room," Mulder smiled gently, and turned around to go across the hall. Mulder's view was less spectacular, but infinitely more interesting, because from a side window he could clearly see the standing stones in the distance. 

"Uh, Mrs. Boyce?" Mulder began. 

"Please call me, Maggie, Fox," she smiled at him. 

"Maggie," he continued without missing a beat, 'aren't standing stones rather unusual on the coast of Maine?" he asked. 

"Oh, so you've seen the stones?" Maggie asked brightly. "Yes, they are very rare. Kevin did some research on them before we bought the house. He had the idea that they would make a nice attraction for the B&B, and they did. He kept that whole area cleared out. It wasn't like it is now, all choked up with weeds. I, I haven't been able to bring myself to go out there and weed, not since, well, not since Kevin died," she finished quietly. 

"I'm sorry, Maggie, I didn't mean to bring up a painful memory," Mulder said. 

"Oh, it's all right," Maggie answered. 

"Just out of curiosity, what did Kevin find out about the stones?" Mulder pressed her. 

"Well, not anything earth shattering really, just that they are very old, dating back God knows how long. But they're mentioned in the earliest records of the area. They're supposed to be in some kind of arrangement for gauging the seasons or significant astronomical events, like the full moon or an eclipse." 

"Interesting," Mulder commented. Scully came in the door just as Maggie was finishing up her explanation. 

"I'll just let you two freshen up then. Both rooms have a private bath, as you can see, and if you'd like any more towels, help yourself, the linen closet is down the hall." 

"Thank you," Scully replied. 

Just as Maggie exited the room however, she turned back and looked at Mulder, "if you're really interested in the standing stones, there's a whole exhibit on them in the little museum downtown next to the town hall. It's quite comprehensive. Kevin helped create it," she added as she walked towards the stairs. 

Scully came into the room and shut the door behind her. 

"I think we'd better check out that museum, Scully," Mulder said looking out the window towards the standing stones. He ran his hand across his mouth, pulling at his lower lip, and Scully said, "All right, Mulder what are you thinking?" 

"Look, Scully I need to tell you something, and I know what you're going to say, but just let me get it out before you jump all over the idea, all right." 

Scully sat down on the edge of the bed and spread her hands out, palms up, "Fine, I'm all ears." 

Mulder sighed and began, "When I first got those letters, I was willing to believe they might have been from my sister. I knew her writing should have changed, but the feeling was so strong that I was willing to overlook that fact. I almost took off for Crossroads without even telling you I was going." 

"Mulder, I hate when you ditch me, you know that..." Scully interrupted. 

"Yes, I know, so I didn't do it this time. But the compulsion was so strong I almost did. Skinner said the same thing in his office - I feel like I have to go to Crossroads. And then you..." 

"Said the same thing after the phone call," Scully looked at him. 

"Right," Mulder replied. 

"And?" she prompted. 

"And what if those letters were actually causing us to come here, compelling us through..." 

"Through magic?" Scully asked quietly, "Oh, Mulder, I don't know, I have real trouble believing in that possibility. And besides, I didn't get any letters." 

"You didn't get one, but you had your hands all over mine and Skinner's copies. Maybe the phone call was just a reinforcement for you. Maybe whatever is summoning us knows you're really the most logical of the three of us, and that you'd need a little extra push to bring you up here." 

Scully just stared at him, "Mulder there are other explanations." 

"Like what?" he asked. 

"Well, certain types of psychoactive drugs can induce that type of compulsive behavior. Maybe someone coated the paper with a drug that we absorbed through our skin when we touched them. Maybe the phone call was just a form of subliminal suggestion or...." 

"That sounds more far-fetched than my idea, Scully." 

"All right, Mulder, what is your idea," Scully finally said, giving in. 

Mulder continued, "All right, listen to this. According to *The Book of Ceremonial Magic*, a practitioner of the black arts, can harm a person by passing him magical runes written on a piece of paper. Sometimes these runes are used to kill an enemy, because once they've been passed to the intended victim, a demon appears and kills the person. Sort of like a demonic hit man. But in another instance, and this is more rare, the runes can be used to summon a person to be used in a magical rite, as a sacrifice to a bring a demon into this plane and then bind it to..." 

"Mulder!" Scully stopped him, "Do you know how that sounds? I didn't see any runes on those letters, no magical symbols of any kind," she added, impatience in her voice. 

"All right then, how do you explain the compulsion to come up here? And how do you explain away the fact that the thought of your dead father calling you on the phone upset you so much you could barely stop shaking?" Mulder asked angrily. 

Scully's mouth closed and she looked down at her hands. "I guess I don't have a good explanation for that, Mulder," she replied in a near whisper. "But I don't want to rule out some type of drug. We should have had the paper analyzed before we left DC, God, Skinner should have had the paper analyzed." 

"But he didn't, did he?" Mulder replied suggestively. 

Scully looked at him without comment, and Mulder continued, "Scully, after I found those standing stones, it only reinforced my idea. Maggie was right when she said that stones like those were used to plan the planting season, and harvests, as well as to chart other significant astronomical events. But there's also some research out there that supports the idea that stone circles can be used by practitioners of black magic for any number of magical rituals. 

Scully began to rub her temples, fatigue showing in her entire body's posture. "And you're going to tell me that Maggie Flynn is some type of witch, or sorceress and she's luring Skinner here for some kind of sacrifice?" 

Mulder crossed over and sat next to her on the bed, "All I'm trying to say, Scully, is I'm not sure our coming here has a rational explanation. Maybe my idea is cracked and I'm just guilty of seeing too many B-horror movies, but I want to show you something else now, and then I want you to tell me what you think," he finished, and he reached into his suit coat pocket and drew out the two letters he had received. 

He held them up into a shaft of bright light that was coming through the window, "Scully, look up trough both pages, ok?" he asked her and she tilted her head up to look. She could just make out the outline of Celtic style runes running diagonally across each of the sheets of paper. 

"Mulder.." she whispered. 

"Yeah," he nodded at her. 

"My God, when did you notice those?" she asked. 

"Actually I didn't notice the runes on these two sheets at all. I noticed them on Skinner's when he held them up downstairs for Maggie. I just took a chance that mine might have the same symbols on them." Mulder explained, "The letters seem to be woven directly into the paper," he added tucking the pages back into his pocket. 

Scully looked at him and shook her head, "Mulder this is almost too incredible to believe..." 

"Well, we'd better start believing it, because I don't have a better explanation right now and I'm afraid that if we don't believe it we're going to be in deep shit," Mulder answered matter-of-factly. 

Scully struggled to comprehend Mulder's idea. 'This is always the sticking point between us,' she thought. He believes almost blindly and I just can't seem to agree.' She had seen the notations he had made next to the song's lyrics. He had really been trying to piece the puzzle together. She looked into his face, and besides the will to convince her he was right, she also thought she saw concern for her there as well, so she finally said, "All right, Mulder, I'll try to agree with you, now where do we go from here?" 

Mulder straightened a bit and replied, "Well, I think the first thing we should do is go downstairs and tell Skinner what we've found. That line in the song, where it says, *I haven't got no lovin' sweet woman that love and feel my care* strikes me as too much of a coincidence for Skinner to ignore." 

"Are you serious about suspecting Maggie?" Scully asked. 

"Well, I don't want to think of her as a suspect," Mulder sighed, "but..." he let his voice trail off. 

"I still can't think she wrote those letters. She seems so sincere," Scully replied. 

"I still think we should at least mention what we just found to Skinner, don't you?" Mulder asked. 

"OK, you're right, but I'd tread lightly there if I were you," Scully advised. 

"Fine," Mulder replied, "but if Maggie Flynn doesn't have anything to do with the letters or those stones then we'd better formulate a plan to find out just who is *Casting the Runes,*" he added. 

Mulder and Scully left his room and headed downstairs, Mulder went off into the parlor thinking Skinner and Maggie may have been in there. Scully walked down a side hallway towards the back of the house in the general direction she thought Maggie had indicated Skinner's room was going to be. As she turned the corner at the end of the hallway she could see the Assistant Director standing in the doorway to one of the rooms, his garment bag in one hand and his other hand touching Maggie Flynn's cheek, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She backed up as quietly as possible and bumped right into Mulder who had been coming up from behind her. 

"What's up?" he asked and she shushed him, and pushed him, farther back up the hall. "Don't go down there," she whispered, go back to the parlor, I'll explain there." Mulder turned around and headed back up the hall as quietly as he could. Once in the parlor Scully said, "He was down there at the end of the hallway with her," and she started to blush slightly, "and, well.." 

"Well, what?" Mulder asked. 

"Well, it looked like he'd probably like another second alone with her," she finished looking down at the floor." 

"What?," Mulder shot back causing Scully to jerk her head up in astonishment. She gazed in amazement at him as he bulled his way past her, and headed towards Skinner's room. 

"Mulder!?" she called after him in surprise. But it was too late, he was all ready at the end of the hallway and going around the corner out of sight. 

Scully dashed after him and as she rounded the bend she sighed with relief, because Maggie Flynn was nowhere to be seen, and Skinner was talking to Mulder in the door way to his room. 

"Agent Mulder, that's none of your business," Skinner was hissing angrily at him. 

"It is my business, Sir, if it jeopardizes our lives," Mulder was arguing heatedly. 

Skinner looked up at Scully as she approached "Mulder, would you please keep your voice down?" he asked the younger man and then he said to Scully, "do you know what the hell he means by *I should think about staying away from that woman?* 

"Uh, Sir...," Scully hesitated. 

"Oh come on Scully, who do you think is the most likely candidate for having cast those runes?" Mulder glared at her. 

"What *runes* Mulder, what in the devil are you talking about?" Skinner asked color rising into his face. 

"What the *DEVIL* am I talking about..." Mulder began to bluster. 

"Maybe we'd better go inside your room and let him explain," Scully interrupted and all three of them stepped out of the hall and Skinner shut the door. 

"All right, Mulder, you have about one minute to explain yourself before I punch your lights out," Skinner spat out viciously. Scully stared at him in shock, and watched as Mulder struggled to control himself. He took a deep breath and began to tell Skinner what he had just got done telling Scully about the runes, and the standing stones, and his suspicions regarding Maggie Flynn. He finished by making Skinner take out his letters and look at them through the sun streaming in his window. 

When he was done looking at the letters, Skinner turned and asked reluctantly, "And you seriously think Maggie had something to do with these letters, and the runes?" 

"Yes sir, I think she's the most likely candidate to have passed them to us, and if not the one who did it, she may know who did," he finished as reasonably as he could. 

Skinner gazed at him and for a moment, Scully thought he was going to hit Mulder, but then he sat down on the bed slowly and rubbed the back of his neck with one large hand. 

"All right, listen, Mulder. Your idea sounds, God, it sounds insane. I can hardly believe that, that woman, that Maggie..., I mean sacrifices, come on Mulder? For Christ's sake!" Skinner replied desperately. There was a look very close to anguish on his face. 

Mulder just stared at him, his eyes boring a hole right through Skinner's skepticism. Scully shook her head sadly. It was obvious that Skinner was having his feelings for Maggie Flynn rekindled and the idea that she was hiding something from him was extremely upsetting. 

Finally he ran a hand over his mouth, and still looking at Mulder said, "All right, look. I'm going to take a piece of your advice here, Mulder, against my better judgment. I'm going to try to go with the flow for a change. I'll consider your hypothesis to be a possible theory, all right. But, look, let me talk to Maggie, please. She may tell me things she would never reveal to either of you, and if she isn't involved I'd like to find that out for myself. 

"And if she is involved?" Mulder asked. 

"Well, then I guess I'd like to be the first to know about that too." Skinner replied. 

Mulder exhaled slowly. Obviously he had thought that Skinner might have belted him as well. "Ok, I can respect that," he replied. 

"Fine, now why don't the two of you go into town before it gets too late and see what else you can dig up regarding your *theory*. And see if you can check into the records at city hall regarding Kevin Boyce's death. I'd just like to make sure about the cause as well." Skinner advised, taking the keys to the Ford out of his pocket and handing them to Mulder. 

"All right, sir," Scully replied. 

As the two left Skinner's room and were near the front door, Maggie Flynn came out from the direction of the kitchen, "Are you two going back out?" she asked. 

"Yes, we just thought we'd take a look around town," Scully replied, trying her best to smile. 

"Oh, well, I'm going to serve dinner at around 7 PM, so I hope you can make it back by then.." she let her voice trail off. 

"Wouldn't miss it," Mulder replied, a smile struggling to appear on his face, as well. 

"Wonderful," she answered, "I'll see you both then," and she walked away into the parlor. 

Unfortunately, by the time Mulder and Scully had driven into town and found a parking place it was after 5 PM and Crossroads was rolling up the sidewalks. Everything was shut down, despite the fact that there was plenty of summer light left. 

"What do we do now?" Scully asked as they walked up to the town hall and saw the *CLOSED* sign posted on the door. The little museum next door was shut up tighter than a drum as well. 

"Well, we could go back to the B&B," Mulder replied. 

"No, Mulder, let's give Skinner a little time with Maggie. He might be able to get some information out of her. And if there's still a possibility that she isn't involved with those runes, then maybe Skinner might just want to spend a little time with her," Scully added quietly. 

Mulder looked at her out of the corner of his eye and then he began to whistle the tune *Matchmaker, Matchmaker,* from *Fiddler on the Roof*. 

"Oh, shut up," she laughed unable to stop herself. 

Mulder laughed a bit too then and said, "He really has it bad for her doesn't he?" 

"Do you even have to ask?" Scully replied. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I thought he was going to hit me back there." Mulder replied shaking his head. 

"So did I," Scully agreed. 

"Uh, look, Scully, we have almost two hours to kill, would you, I mean, would you like to take a walk down on the beach? It's probably cooler down there. I could use the sea air to clear my head." Mulder suggested. 

"All right, that sounds like a good idea," Scully answered and the two of them walked the two blocks it took them to reach a stairway that lead down to the shore. The air was indeed cooler there and the sand was white and looked like it stretched for miles. Mulder rolled up his slacks and took off his shoes and socks. Scully did the same, tucking her knee hi panty hose into her tailored suit coat pocket. Then both of them, carrying their shoes in one hand, stepped out onto the sand, and began to walk, side by side along the water's edge. 

Scully glanced over at Mulder and allowed herself to admire his profile as he looked out over the water. She sighed and thought to herself that at times she was attracted to Mulder with an intensity that she found almost unbearable. In peaceful, quiet moments like these, when she was alone with him, she let herself imagine what it might be like to have him be more than just a friend and partner. She'd sometimes fantasized about how it would feel to have him kiss her and tell her he loved her. But, the whole idea was just that, a fantasy and after logical consideration she would dismiss her thoughts for what they were - the musings of a workaholic who barely had time to eat regular meals much less maintain any type of relationship or social life. Still, at times she thought, just maybe...." 

"Scully?" Mulder interrupted her train of thought. 

"Yes?" she replied. 

"You dropped one of your shoes," Mulder replied indicating the beach in back of them. 

"Oh, hell," she frowned. 

"Don't worry, I'll get it," he replied gallantly, and then ran back up the beach to fetch the shoe. 

"Thank you kind sir," she smiled putting the shoe back with it's mate in her right hand. 

Impulsively, Mulder reached out and took her left hand in his. Scully looked down at their intertwined fingers and then up into his face. Mulder didn't say anything, he just started walking again, holding her hand comfortably in his and she decided it felt very nice, and she walked on beside him. 

After a time they reached a little stairway that led back up to the houses above, and Mulder asked her if she'd like to sit a while, and she said that would be just fine. They sat down next to each other and looked out over the waves, in companionable silence, and the gulls were flying, and the sand pipers scuttled along the waterline. 

After a time, Mulder looked at his watch, "Hey, we'd better get back, it's 6:30," and they headed up the stairway and over to the parked Ford Explorer. 

They were able to return to the B&B shortly after 7 PM and once inside the front door they were met by the sight of Assistant Director Walter Skinner wearing a chefs apron, and helping to set the large table in the dining room. Mulder almost burst out laughing but luckily he was able to hold in most of it. 

"What's so funny, Agent Mulder?" Skinner asked dangerously. 

"Not a thing, Sir, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go, uh, wash my feet," he winced. Neither he nor Scully had been able to get all the beach grit off their feet so they had come back barefoot. 

"Me too, Sir," Scully hastened to add, making a quick exit. 

"All right, but make it fast, dinner's about to be served," he called after them. 

When the two Agents came back down, the table was completely set, the lights had been turned down low, and candles illuminated the room.

The scene was almost idyllic. Scully hoped that the room looked like that because Skinner had found out that Maggie Flynn had nothing whatsoever to do with runes or standing stones. 

Skinner came out of the kitchen, sans apron, but wearing khaki dockers and a fresh white polo shirt. Mulder and Scully were glad they had both taken the time to change into jeans, t-shirts and sneakers. Mulder made his way directly over to Skinner and without preamble asked, "What did you find out, Sir?" 

"I might ask you the same thing, Agent Mulder," he whispered. Mulder shook his head in the negative, "We got into town too late, Sir, everything was closed till morning." 

"I was afraid of that," Skinner said. "This town hasn't changed much since I was here last in that respect," he added. "You'll just have to try again tomorrow. We'll get an early start in the morning." 

"And you, Sir, what did you find out from Maggie?" Mulder pressed. 

"I'm sure she didn't write the letters, Mulder. I'm almost sure she doesn't know who did either, but I'm still working on that end of the problem," he whispered and then he stopped talking because Maggie was coming out of the kitchen. She was carrying a large platter with steamed crabs piled high on it. Skinner hurried to help her, "Here, let me take that, Maggie," Skinner said, and he took the platter from her and placed it on the table with the other dishes. 

"Oh, you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble, Maggie," Scully said.

"I didn't go to much trouble at all, Walter fixed the crabs, he certainly hasn't lost his touch in that department," she laughed. Skinner actually reddened at her comment, and then he said, "Well, sit down... they aren't going to stay hot forever.." and all four of them took their places at the table. 

The meal was delightful, Scully had to admit. Even Mulder seemed to relax. All of them enjoyed cracking the crabs after Maggie and Skinner had given a hilarious demonstration on how not to do it, and then exactly how it was done. There was ice cold beer to wash the meal down with, and hot towels to clean up with afterwards. 

They all sat around the table after the meal and talked, and Scully found herself believing again that in no way could Maggie Flynn have written the letters and if she did know anything about them, the runes, or sacrifices, or demons at all, it would have been a big surprise to her. 

Mulder seemed to be looking at her with less suspicion and his mood was upbeat. 

During the meal it became obvious that the Assistant Director was indeed, as the old saying went, smitten, with Maggie Flynn. It was as if the intervening years had simply slipped away, and he was 18 years old again, and in love. For her part, Maggie was equally as interested in him, but there was a hint of wistfullness about her. Scully thought that she was probably thinking of her late husband, and her sudden resurgence of feelings for Skinner might have been making her feel guilty under the circumstances. 

Finally when it became obvious that Skinner and Maggie Flynn would probably like to be alone together again, Scully looked over at Mulder and tried to get his attention. He was a bit more quick on the uptake this time and said, "Maggie, that was one of the finest meals, I've ever had, but I'm so full I think I'd better go out and stretch my legs before I burst." 

"Does that mean I can't interest you in coffee and desert, Fox?" she asked laughter in her voice. 

"Not unless you want to have to call 911," Mulder quipped. 

"All right, I'll excuse you this time," Maggie smiled, but tomorrow night you'll have to have a piece of my apple pie." 

"That's a deal," Mulder replied. "Hey, Scully, would you like to join me?" Mulder asked. 

"All right," Scully replied quickly and both of them exited the dining room and headed out onto the front porch. 

"Now what?" Mulder asked. 

"Well, let's take a walk, I am nearly ready to burst," Scully groaned a bit, "God, I haven't eaten that much in eons." 

"It was good though, wasn't it?" Mulder grinned. 

"No, I hated it all, especially that fourth crab I gagged down," Scully joked back giving him a little poke in the ribs. 

"Hey, watch it, I just might explode on you," Mulder smirked, and then he walked down off the porch and onto the lawn. 

They walked down the road that lead up to the B&B and then turned back towards the house. The only sounds were the crickets, and the gravel crunching beneath their feet. They walked into the back yard and there was a little screened in gazebo at the edge of the lawn. 

"Mulder, let's go sit in there, the bugs will stay off us that way," Scully suggested as she swatted at the first of the mosquitoes that found her arm. 

"Yeah, I don't feel like donating any blood right now myself," Mulder agreed and they both entered the little structure and closed the door behind them. 

Mulder looked back towards the house as Scully sat down on one of the wooden benches. 

"Mulder, relax, you don't have to chaperone them, they're big people." Scully told his back. 

He turned around and walked over to her, "Yeah, I guess you're right," and he sat down next to her. 

"Do you really still think she had anything to do with those letters?" Scully asked. 

"God, I hope not," Mulder breathed, "for Skinners sake," he added and Scully looked at him, a very soft expression on her face. 

"Scully," Mulder continued, "I don't think I want to believe that Maggie Flynn had anything to do with any of those letters, or the runes or well, any part of my theory about her." 

"I hope she doesn't. I'm starting to like her too much," Scully replied. 

"Yeah, me too," Mulder sighed, interrupting her, and then he turned and looked at Scully. There was a strand of hair falling across her eyes and he gently reached over and moved it back behind her ear. His hand lingered at her cheek and Scully sat very still. Mulder searched her face, looking for something, and Scully instantly wished, 'Please, let him do it..' but the kiss didn't come. Instead he lowered his hand. 

"Look, Scully let's go into town early tomorrow like Skinner suggested and really pound the pavement. Let's try to clear Maggie once and for all, and then take this case from there, what do you say?" Mulder suggested. 

"I think that's an excellent idea," Scully agreed, letting her breath out very slowly. 

They both left the gazebo and headed back around the side of the house. Both of them tried to make as much noise as possible as they walked up onto the porch and through the front door. 

Once inside they saw Skinner and Maggie clearing up the last of the plates from the dining room table. 

"We're going to turn in, Sir, I think we should get an early start in the morning," Mulder said. 

"All right, Mulder, Scully, that's a good idea. I'll see you in the morning then," and he turned around and followed Maggie into the kitchen. Both Agents went upstairs then, and to their separate rooms. 

Scully took a shower and putting on her pajamas, walked over and sat in a chair facing the ocean to admire the view. 

Mulder took a shower as well, and hung his suit pants over the shower bar afterwards so the cuffs that had gotten wet at the beach could dry. He but a clean pair of boxers on and stretched out on the bed to read *The Book of Ceremonial Magic*. The breeze from the open window in his room felt very refreshing on his naked legs. 

Downstairs, Skinner was helping Maggie to load the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, and laughing with her over the fact that there were some things that you didn't want to do without even for the sake of Victorian authenticity, and a dishwasher was one of them. Skinner was vaguely aware that he was falling head over heels in love with Maggie Flynn again. He didn't want to question the feeling, even though a nagging voice told him he should, and that things were moving way to fast. He tried to ignore the voice, because he felt like he had so many years ago, like he was 18 again, and it was summer, and he'd never been to Vietnam, and Maggie was his first love. 

They were standing very close in front of the dishwasher and Maggie looked into his eyes. The room spun a bit, and Skinner thought, 'God, she's so beautiful,' and he wanted to kiss her, but instead he turned away and clearing his throat, said, "Uh, Maggie, I'd better turn in too, we have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow, I'd like to get an early start." 

"All right, Walter," she replied quietly. "I'll just finish up here." and she started to wipe the counter top with some wet paper towels.

Skinner walked away but before he left the kitchen he turned and said, "Maggie, Thanks, it was, it was a great meal, and I really liked talking over old times." 

"It was my pleasure too, Walter," she smiled as he went out the kitchen door. As soon as Skinner was gone, Maggie Flynn clutched at her head and moaned, "No, please, no," and sagged against the dishwasher, utter despair written on her face. 

The next morning Skinner and Maggie were all ready up when Mulder and Scully came downstairs. Both Agents had taken extra time to don their official FBI attire of tailored business suits in preparation for a day of investigation in town. 

Skinner was seated, his suit coat thrown over the back of his chair, and a plate full of bacon and eggs with toast and coffee in front of him. Maggie was seated across from him pouring another cup of coffee from the pot that sat between them. They were joking about something again, and she was laughing her musical laugh. There were two other table settings laid out, but Mulder and Scully both hesitated almost simultaneously to enter the room. Finally, Mulder waved Scully past him and she went to sit down next to Maggie Flynn at the table. Mulder went over and took the chair next to Skinner. 

"Oh, let me get you two some breakfast, Maggie said brightly, rising to go back into the kitchen. 

"Maggie, let me help you, Scully said and the two women exited the dining room. 

Skinner looked over at Mulder and Mulder noticed that the usual stern and taciturn expression that Skinner wore was absent from his face. In it's place was a serenity that Mulder had never seen before. Mulder became suddenly envious of him because he recognized what that expression on his face meant, and Mulder wished that he could feel what Skinner was feeling just once in his miserable life. 

"So, are you two going into town this morning?" Skinner asked. 

"Uh, yes, sir," Mulder replied looking away from him. He devoutly hoped that whatever they found out in town about the runes, the stones and Maggie Flynn wouldn't be something that would wipe that expression of perfect peace from Walter Skinner's face. 

"Good, well, I think I'll stay here and see what else I can find out from Maggie," he stated taking a sip of his coffee. 

"That would be a good idea," Mulder agreed. "We'll do our best, Sir, to get to the bottom of this," he added hopefully. 

"I appreciate that, Agent Mulder," Skinner replied sincerely. 

They stopped their conversation because they could hear Maggie Flynn laughing again in the kitchen and saying, "He didn't do that did he, really?" and Scully said something that Mulder couldn't quite hear, and then they both were laughing. For some reason Mulder felt like his ears were burning as Scully and Maggie came back out. 

Scully was carrying two plates with bacon and eggs on them and she somewhat shyly placed one in front of Mulder, and then resumed her seat across from him. Mulder looked over at her, slightly stunned as Maggie put a coffee cup in front of him, and then walked over to put the other cup near Scully's hand. 

"So, are you two going into town to investigate things this morning?" Maggie asked, interested. 

"Well, yes, partly," Mulder replied, "I'd like to stop by that museum though, you're description of the standing stones exhibit sort of interested me," Mulder answered. 

"Oh, I think the museum is closed on Wednesdays, she said, "The caretaker, Henry Merritt, teaches a class over at Little Hook community college on Wednesday's I think," Maggie said. 

"Oh, well, I can always check that out tomorrow," Mulder replied, disappointment in his voice. 

"Yes, Henry will be down there tomorrow," Maggie answered. 

"Well, I'm sure we can take a look around town anyway," Scully replied. And suddenly it occurred to her that there wasn't any hammering and she thought of the scaffolding and shingles on the roof. 

"Maggie, aren't the roofers working today?" Scully asked really curious. 

"Oh, you're in luck there, Dana, no noise for a while. They had an emergency job, and when they called to ask if I'd mind waiting for mine to be finished I said no. All that's left to be done is that shingling, anyway." 

"Well, we certainly won't miss the hammering!" Scully laughed. 

"I didn't think so," Maggie replied. 

Mulder and Scully drove the Ford Explorer into Crossroads at 8:30 AM. They found practically the last parking spot right in front of the Town Hall. They intended to start there by taking a look at Kevin Boyce's death certificate. The sign on the door of the Town Hall said it would be open at 9 AM, so Mulder and Scully went back to the Ford to wait. 

Mulder looked at his watch and said, "It's almost 9 AM and just as he said it a woman in a business suit opened the Town Hall door from the inside, flipped the sign around to read OPEN, and shut the door again. 

"We're on, Scully," Mulder said and they left the car and headed up the walk way to the Town Hall door. 

In the Town Hall, Mulder and Scully had flashed their FBI identification and gotten instant cooperation. Now they were studying the death certificate for Kevin Boyce, identical frowns pulling down their mouths. 

The certificate said death by misadventure, an accident, but nothing about drowning. Kevin had died two years ago though and had been 42 years old at the time. There wasn't much else to be gleaned from the bare bones certificate, and Scully decided that it might be a good idea to visit the local police station to see if they had kept any records regarding Boyce's accidental death. They returned the certificate to the clerk at the front desk, got directions from him to the police station, and exited the building. 

At the police station a very grumpy desk sergeant looked at their ID twice, and told them that he'd have to have someone hunt the file down. After all, it was a two year old case, and the file was buried somewhere in the basement file room. If they could come back tomorrow, however, he was sure he could have it ready for them. But, he added if he located it sooner he'd call them. Mulder gave him the number of the bed and breakfast so that he could reach them. 

Back at the bed and breakfast, Walter Skinner had gone to his room to change out of his business suit and into something more casual since he had decided to stay with Maggie this morning. He sat down on the bed to take off his shoes, and suddenly he became inexplicably tired, so he curled up on the bed and fell fast asleep. 

In the bedroom next door to Skinner's, Maggie Flynn sat in a chair. She faced the direction of the standing stones and behind her a desk top stereo system was playing music. The volume was down low but a black man was singing along to a plaintive blues guitar riff and the thing that rode in Maggie Flynn's body stroked her mind and said, "Ah, Maggie, that music is just wonderful. I imagine Robert Johnson had no idea he was writing it for me, did he?" it asked, and Maggie groaned through her moist lips. The thing inside her made her move her hands to touch and rub her breasts until her nipples were hard and erect, and then it forced her hands down further until they went between her thighs and began to stroke her there, "I imagine he had no idea until I made my presence known that is," the thing hissed and then, "until I rode him Maggie, just like I'm riding you," and tears fell down Maggie's cheeks as she rocked against her hands. "Now Maggie, I want you to concentrate real hard, I have something else I want you to do..." the voice droned on, and on, and Maggie Flynn did exactly as she was told. 

Dana Scully stood on the sidewalk outside the police station and shook her head. 

"Well, that certainly was a dead end," she fumed. 

"No kidding," Mulder complained as well, "I really wanted to find something out today. I don't relish telling Skinner we came up empty again. Maybe I should just go back in there and make that cop show us to the file room. We could dig through the records ourselves for the rest of the afternoon," he added, squinting to look back towards the police station. 

Scully looked at her partner, and she was suddenly overcome with the most overwhelming rush of lust that she had ever had in her life. 'God,' she thought desperately, 'What, what brought this on,' she gasped, as she became instantly wet. Her mind fought to hold the sensations at bay, but it was pretty much a hopeless battle, and she turned away from Mulder, because she knew what her face must look like, and she didn't want him to see the look of naked desire on it. 

The heat in her built and built, rising to her face and she was burning hot. 'Oh my God,' she thought, 'I can't, how can I be feeling this way,' she thought with shame and guilt, this was Mulder, her friend, her trusted partner her, her..lover, the word sprung into her mind unbidden and then the images started to come, and Scully shut her eyes tight as if that would make them stop. Mulder naked, his hands and mouth roving over her naked body, their coupling in every conceivable position imaginable, and then some that she could never imagine would be possible, howling in animal pleasure, writhing...and she gasped involuntarily and clutched her stomach. 

"Scully, are you all right?" Mulder was asking, concern in his voice, and she fought to clear her head and steady her voice to answer him. 

"Mulder, I, I don't think so. My stomach, uh, I think the rich meals over the last couple of days are getting to me. I feel sick," she gasped out. She doubled over, not in pain however, but in almost unbearable pleasure, as her whole body shook with an earth shattering orgasm. 

"Oh, God," she cried out, gritting her teeth to keep quiet. 

"Jesus, Scully, it might be food poisoning," Mulder said as he caught her arm. 

"Mulder, please, don't touch me," she hissed, panicked. 

"But I want to help you," Mulder said, tight-lipped. "I want to get you back to the car, you should see a doctor." 

"Mulder, I am a doctor, I'll be fine, all right, help me back to the car, but just drive me back to the Bed and Breakfast, please." Scully gasped her eyes shut tight. 

"Ok, all right," Mulder dithered slightly, as he grasped her arm carefully and lead her over to the passenger side of the Ford. He got her in somehow and buckled her seat belt. 

'God, she looks really white,' Mulder thought dismally as he started the engine and pulled out into the town's traffic. 

Scully sat in the seat next to him, her head leaning back against the backrest, eyes closed, breathing heavily. She was beyond pleasure now, the sensations wracking her body were painful, and in silent desperation she grabbed the crucifix that hung around her neck, and began to pray for the feelings and images to stop. 

In her room in the Bed and Breakfast, Maggie Flynn cried with a mixture of pleasure and pain as she came again, and again, and the parasitic thing that held her in it's thrall howled in an ecstasy of growing power. Suddenly however, all feelings coming through Maggie to it were shut off like someone turned off a faucet, and the thing reared up inside her mind and wailed in rage. 

Mulder and Scully had only driven to just beyond the outskirts of Crossroads before Scully begged Mulder to pull the car over to the side of the road. As soon as they came to a stop she flung the passenger side door open and vomited copiously onto the ground. She heaved up everything she had eaten that morning. 

Suddenly she was aware of Mulder, holding her shoulders and supporting her head as she retched and she was mortally embarrassed again, as some of her vomit hit his shoe. 

Once the spasms in her stomach calmed down she was able to straighten up and Mulder gently held her head against his side. Thankfully she noticed that with the vomiting, all traces of her sexual heat had dissipated and she leaned weakly against Mulder. 

"Oh, Mulder, I'm so sorry," she whispered. 

"What's to be sorry about, you obviously ate something that disagreed with you," Mulder replied quietly, stroking her hair, "Are you feeling better now?" he asked. 

She wanted to shrink away from his touch, afraid that the overwhelming sensations would return, but they didn't. The only sensations she felt were ones of warmth, and caring, and comfort and she sighed with relief. 

"Yes, I feel a lot better," she replied straightening up. She reached forward and pulled open the glove compartment and taking out some napkins Skinner had put there at the rest stop, handed them to Mulder. 

"You, you'd better wipe off your shoe," she smiled at him weakly, as she used some of the napkins to wipe her mouth. 

Mulder released her shoulders and walked back behind the rear bumper to clean himself up. He tossed the napkins onto the ground and came back over to squat in front of Scully. Scully didn't want to look at him because he was straddling what was left of her breakfast on the gravel of the roads shoulder. 

"Are you really ok, Scully?" he asked looking up under the shaft of golden-red hair that fell obscuring her face. 

"Yes, I'm fine, let's go back," she lied. She may have been better physically but mentally she was anything but. She couldn't think what had gotten into her, and she certainly couldn't explain to Mulder what had happened to her, at least not here at the side of the road. 'Maybe after we get back to the B&B I can try to tell him,' she thought. 

Mulder smiled at her and said, "Good, ok, get in and buckle your seat belt." 

They drove the rest of the way back to the Bed and Breakfast in silence. 

Walter Skinner woke, totally refreshed. He hadn't recalled wanting to take a nap, but it had certainly felt good to do so. He got up and changed his clothes and then he went to find Maggie Flynn. Maggie was in the kitchen and she had a picnic basket on the counter. Skinner thought she looked a little tired, but still exquisite. 

"Oh, there you are, sleepy head," she smiled. "I thought you'd like some lunch," she added. 

"Yeah, I can't believe I'm hungry again," he said, "you're going to cause me to blow my whole diet regimen, Maggie," he teased. 

"Oh, you can make up for it later," she laughed, "when you get back to DC." 

"A picnic?" he asked taking the blanket that was lying next to the basket on the counter. 

"Yes, I thought it might be nice to just, you know, go out in the back yard for lunch," she answered, "It's a gorgeous day out." 

"That would be great, Maggie," Skinner answered smiling tenderly at her. He knew there was something he was supposed to be talking to her about, but for the life of him he couldn't remember the questions. 

"All right," she was saying, "Can you just get a couple of beers out of the fridge?" 

Mulder and Scully pulled up in front of the B&B at around 1 PM. Scully got out of the passenger side of the car very gingerly. Her stomach was sore from heaving earlier. Mulder stood and waited for her, and they both went up to the front door and walked inside. No one was in the parlor, or dining room. Mulder walked down the hallway and looked around the corner towards Skinner's room. His door was open but there was no noise coming from that direction. Scully was heading into the dining room and then straight through into the kitchen, so he followed her. 

Scully continued to walk through the kitchen and out onto the screened in porch that surrounded the back of the house. Mulder bumped into her as she stopped dead. He looked directly over her head to see what had made her stop, and he saw Skinner and Maggie out on the lawn. A picnic lunch was spread out on a blanket on the grass, but they weren't eating. Skinner held Maggie close, in his arms, and he was gently kissing her as Maggie's hands were entwined behind his neck. 

"Oh shit," Mulder whispered and he turned on his heel and walked back into the kitchen. 

Scully stood and watched. She couldn't help herself. After what had just happened to her, it was very easy for her to imagine that the couple on the lawn were her and Mulder. She touched her own lips as Skinner continued to explore Maggie Flynn's mouth. Then she shook herself violently and turned to follow Mulder back into the kitchen. 

Mulder was still walking, and as he passed the fridge he opened it, took out a beer and twisted off the cap, taking a pull from the bottle before he even reached the dining room. He sat down heavily at the table and Scully came in and sat across from him. 

"Now what?" he said to her, his eyes downcast. 

"Well, I think we have to assume that, well, that he talked to her and he's obviously sure she's innocent of any wrong-doing," Scully replied quietly. 

"Christ, I hope so," Mulder replied sadly. 

"Well, we have to try to trust Skinner's judgment I guess," Scully added hopefully. 

"All right, but that still doesn't help tell us who wrote these," Mulder answered, taking his letters from his inner suitcoat pocket. 

Scully stared at the letters as if they were a huge snake that Mulder had just thrown down in front of her, "Have you had those with you all this time?" she asked, eyes wide. 

"Yes, why?" Mulder replied. 

Scully just shook her head, and said, "Nothing, I just, look, Mulder, I want to go lie down, I still feel a little sick." She also wanted to rinse the taste of vomit from her mouth. 

Mulder's face took on such a sympathetic expression that Scully's insides started to melt. She had to get some rest but while she recuperated she would definitely have to think about how she was going to tell her partner what had happened to her outside the Crossroad's cop shop. 

"Hey, that's all right Scully, go lie down, I'll talk to Skinner when, when he gets done with lunch," he grinned sheepishly and Scully smiled at him as she got up and walked towards the stairs. 

Mulder had almost finished his beer by the time he heard Skinner and Maggie coming back into the kitchen. He heard them distantly and he could tell they were making lover's talk, and he sighed over the beer bottle. He thought of Scully and his barely concealed secret feelings for her, and this time instead of envy for Skinner, he felt happiness for him. 'Well, someone deserves to be happy around here,' he thought as Skinner walked out of the kitchen into the dining room.

 "Mulder, I didn't expect to see you back this early," he said blandly. 

"Well, we didn't intend to return this early either, but, Scully got kind of sick in town so I brought her back here," Mulder replied, "She's upstairs resting," he added. 

"Sick, is it anything serious?" Maggie Flynn asked as she followed Skinner from the kitchen. 

"No, I don't think so, she threw up on the way back here. She said her stomach was upset. I thought it might have been the heat." Mulder replied, worry changing his voice slightly. 

"Oh, that's awful, I have some Pepto Bismol, maybe I should go up and see if she wants some," Maggie replied kindly. 

"Well, that might be a good idea, Maggie, thanks," Mulder told her as she hurried off towards the stairs. 

Skinner came and sat down at the head of the table and looked at Mulder closely. "If you're hungry, Mulder, there's a couple of sandwiches left in the kitchen." 

"No, sir, I'm not very hungry," he replied.

"Suit yourself," Skinner replied. Mulder was waiting for him to ask if they had found anything out in town, and when he didn't, Mulder spoke up. 

"Sir, we didn't have time to find out much in town. Boyce's death certificate says accidental death or rather, death by misadventure. The police file on the case won't be available until tomorrow, and the museum was closed, just like Maggie said. I'm sorry we don't have more answers for you," and he sat back and waited for Skinner to blow up at him. 

"Oh, well, that's all right, Fox," he said smiling at him, "You can try again tomorrow. I've talked to Maggie and, well, she didn't have anything to do with the letters, and she doesn't know who could have sent them either. So, I think whatever you find out isn't going to amount to much anyway. It was probably someone's idea of a sick joke after all," he said, "Want another beer?" 

Mulder looked at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. A little voice told him that Skinner's words were not a good sign, but instead of saying that to the Assistant Director he replied, "Sure, I'd love another beer." Skinner got up immediately and walked back into the kitchen. 

All sorts of things raced through Mulder's mind as he heard someone coming down the stairs. It was Maggie. 

"She's fine, Fox, don't worry, I gave her some Pepto Bismol she should be feeling a lot better by dinner," she smiled. 

Skinner came back in with another beer and handed it to Mulder. "Here you go, Mulder." His face looked a bit more normal because there was now a slight frown creasing his forehead, "What were we talking about?" he asked. 

"Oh, nothing important, Sir," Mulder replied, taking a swig of the second beer, "Uh, if you two will excuse me, I'd like to check on Scully," he said. He went to take the empty beer bottle, into the kitchen, the mostly full bottle left forgotten on the table. 

Maggie said, "that's ok, Fox, I'll take care of the bottles, go on up to her." 

"And Mulder, if you're looking for us, Maggie and I are going to drive into town for more groceries. We should be back in an hour or so." Skinner said as Maggie went to get her purse. 

"Yes, Sir," Mulder said as he went to the stairs. As soon as he was out of their site he took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. 

Upstairs, Scully was lying on her bed trying to come up with a plan to tell Mulder about the incident in Crossroads. She had just about decided to go back downstairs and explain, when there was a tentative knock at the door. 

"Scully, are you awake?" Mulder called softly through the door. 

"Yes, come on in," she called and he opened the door. "Come in, Mulder, it's all right, I'm feeling a lot better." 

Mulder walked over to the chair by the window and, straddling it, took a seat. 

"So, did the Pepto Bismol help?" he asked. 

"Yes, that was so considerate of Maggie. I wouldn't have thought to ask for anything," Scully answered. 

"Oh, ok, well, you are feeling better, right?" 

"Yes, Mulder I'm fine," she answered, "Is that all you came in here for, to ask if I was all right?" 

"No, not exactly," I wanted to tell you that I talked to Skinner and he said we should try to check the files and the museum tomorrow." 

"Fine," Scully said. 

"But, he also said that he didn't think we were going to find anything important because he had talked to Maggie, and she was completely innocent of either sending the letters or knowing who did. He's come to the conclusion that the whole thing was some kind of sick joke and now we should just have a beer, sit back and relax, and watch while he humps the hostess." 

"Mulder!" Scully exclaimed, real shock in her voice. 

Mulder rubbed his hand over his mouth and looked down at the floor, "Shit, I'm sorry Scully, that was out of line. I guess I shouldn't be drinking a beer in this heat on an empty stomach, maybe it went to my head. But you should have seen him down there, he was, well he wasn't himself." 

"Of course, he wasn't himself, Mulder, he's in love." Scully said quietly. 

"Oh, shit, maybe you're right," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "I guess I just find it kind of hard to imagine Skinner running around behind her like some overgrown.." 

"Puppy?" Scully asked smiling.

"No I was thinking more like gorilla." 

"Mulder!" 

"All right, all right, sorry," he sighed. 

"But look, I think we should still go back into town tomorrow and check out those files, and the museum. We still have to get to the bottom of those letters." 

"Yes, I agree," Scully replied, "I still have to admit that the compulsion to come up here was so strong - it just didn't seem natural. Whether it was chemically or, uh, magically induced - I still don't know, but we should continue to try and find out. I'm beginning to think I'd like to try to have the paper the letters were written on analyzed too. Maybe there's someone locally who could handle the job." 

"Good idea, Scully," Mulder agreed shaking his head in the affirmative. 

"Umm, and Mulder, uh, I think I have something else odd to tell you about what happened in town today," she ventured suddenly. 

"What?" he asked, concern on his face at her abrupt change of topic, "don't tell me you think you were poisoned..." 

"No, no, nothing like that," she hedged. 

"So, what is it?" Mulder asked, all ears. 

"Well.." and she just couldn't do it. She couldn't look Mulder in the face and tell him she had wanted to strip naked on the sidewalk in front of the Crossroads, Maine Police Station and ball his brains out. Strange compulsion or not, she would rather die than tell him what had gone through her mind. 

The silence was heavy between them. 

"Well, what?" Mulder prompted again. Scully absent-mindedly fingered the crucifix on it's chain around her neck. A small voice inside her said, 'Dana, you'd better tell him, it's important. Don't be embarrassed, he'll understand, he trusts you and besides the knowledge might save your lives," so she let the whole thing come out in a rush. 

"Mulder, I wasn't sick to my stomach outside the police station today. I was, something was making me sexually aroused and, God, the images were so, so intense and real, and I, I started to orgasm. And, then I couldn't stop and pretty soon it didn't feel good anymore, it hurt like hell, and finally I held onto my cross and prayed that it would stop, and then I threw up, and it was all right again," she finally stopped in her recitation to look over at him, mortification and humiliation on her face. 

Mulder was looking at her and his face was so blandly neutral that she wanted to rush over and slap the look off it. 

"You're telling me that something forced you to orgasm in front of the police station?" Mulder asked carefully. 

"Well, I didn't think the location mattered much, Mulder.." she replied miserably. 

"No, I suppose not," he answered musing. 

"Well, don't you think that sounds a little strange!?" she asked shrilly. 

"Wait here a second, Scully, ok, I have to get something I want to show you," he said abruptly getting up and walking to the door, "just hold that thought, all right, I'll be right back," and he opened the door and walked out. She could hear him cross the hall to his room and then he returned carrying *The Book of Ceremonial Magic*. 

"Scully look at this all right? I've marked the pertinent passages."Scully started to read the text. The first part described something called *The Mysteries of the Goetic Theurgy*, and there was page after page of arcane names, all of which were supposed to be names of demons, and what they looked like, and what they did. There was one that Mulder had underlined, Saleos, and he was some kind of great demon duke that promoted lust between the sexes and gained strength and power from a couples union. 

"Mulder, this is really strange stuff," Scully said quietly, looking up from the book. 

"I know, but keep reading, please," Mulder asked. 

Scully read on. The text mentioned the rituals for summoning the demons, and the special symbols that signified each demon, and how to bind the demons to your will. There were even copies of grotesque medieval woodcuts depicting each demon. The text also mentioned circles of standing stones being used as a setting for conjuration, and runic symbols used to attract worthy human sacrifices. 

"God, Mulder," Scully whispered. 

"Listen, Scully , I read in another book before we came up here, that some of these demons inspire such lust in people that they can't help but..well, they fuck themselves to hell, so to speak," he breathed out raggedly. "I mean once they're summoned by the runes the sacrifice is easy because they're so besotted with lust that they don't know what's about to happen." 

"Good Lord," Scully whispered. 

"So, let's suppose I'm right and someone used the runes to summon Skinner, and then me, and then you too. Sort of a buy one, get two for free, sale," Mulder stated, "God, I wish I had more to go on though, I'm basing a lot of my ideas on just gut hunches here, I really need to go back to town and try to find some concrete answers." 

"And you think whoever is doing this magic...that they forced me to have those, those carnal thoughts about you..." she said it before she even realized she had, and her face felt hot under Mulder's gaze. 

"About me?" he whispered gently, "Oh, Scully, I, I don't, oh..." he whispered. 

"You mean you had no idea?" she asked looking up into his face. 

"Well, I..I.." he stammered and then he sat down heavily on the bed next to her. 

"Yeah, I had more than an idea, I guess," he confessed looking at his hands. 

"Oh, Mulder," she whispered, putting the book down and touching his arm. "When I was forced to have those thoughts it was so horrible partly because, well, partly because I have imagined what it might be like for us to make love. And what those images were showing me, it wasn't making love, it was like two beasts, animals, fucking. It was nothing like what I'd, what I'd like us to experience together. It made me sick," she said in a very small voice. 

"Scully..." Mulder replied his voice sad. 

"And, Mulder, that's why I prayed, I prayed to make it stop because I didn't want to have to think of us..." 

Mulder put his arm around her shoulders, "Scully, it's ok, I understand, I know, don't worry," he said as he rubbed her arm, "I've imagined what it would be like to make love to you too, and more times then I can count. Scully, I've wanted you for so long, but I want it to be the right time, a special moment between us, not under some kind of threat of losing our souls, or under some kind of chemically induced compulsive hallucination. I want it to be us, and I want it to be real, because...well, because I love you." 

She was shaking slightly and he put his hand under her chin and pulled her face up to his. He bent forward and gently pressed a kiss to her lips. It was so light, and tender that Scully hardly realized he was kissing her. Mulder left her lips and pulled her close. Her head rested easily under his chin and they sat together like that for quite some time. 

"Mulder?" Scully asked. 

"Hmmm," he answered breathing against her hair. 

"I love you too," she said, barely audibly, and if, if you'd ever want to make love to me, I wouldn't dream of saying no." Scully whispered.

Mulder pulled her a bit closer, but he didn't move, and he didn't say another word. 

Presently Scully sighed and said, "I still hope Maggie isn't involved in any of this." 

"Me too. I really do want Skinner to be happy, Scully, he may be a royal pain in the ass, but the guy has guts, and I think he goes to bat for us more than we might realize," Mulder replied. "I hope when we go into town tomorrow we find out she's the last person in the world that could be conjuring demons or sending chemically treated letters for that matter." 

"Mulder?" Scully asked. 

"Yes?" 

"I think I hear a car," and they went downstairs to meet Skinner and Maggie Flynn. 

Dinner that night was even more wonderful than the night before if that was possible. All traces of Scully's upset stomach seemed to have disappeared and she was very grateful because now she was hungry and the food looked delicious. 

The table was set again, the lights were out, and candles were burning everywhere. Maggie had steamed oysters for them all, and Skinner had made the salad. It was excellent, and Skinner finally admitted to a hidden talent that neither Mulder nor Scully knew he possessed - he loved to cook, and he was really quite good in the kitchen. There was fresh French bread, and a fragrant and fruity local wine that Maggie thought they'd all like to try. 

Throughout the meal Maggie and Skinner were so caught up in each other that it was almost painful to watch. But gradually, maybe due to the wine, or the pleasant sea breeze that circulated about, or the candles or maybe what they had said to each other that afternoon, Mulder and Scully began to feel some of the joy that Skinner and Maggie were experiencing. 

Scully watched Mulder almost continuously, and when he looked her way she was usually smiling. Mulder came out of himself more than she had ever seen him do, and he was really very funny, so she couldn't help but laugh at his jokes. 

By the end of the meal all of them were tired from laughing and almost full to the brim. 

"Why don't you all go out on the front porch and I'll bring out some coffee," Maggie said as they sat back in their chairs. 

"I should help, Maggie," Scully said as Maggie got up to go into the kitchen. "Thanks, Dana, we can carry everything out a lot faster that way," and as the two women made their exit, Mulder and Skinner walked out of the dining room and through the house to the front porch. 

It was a crystal clear night and Skinner leaned up against the porch railing and looked up at the stars. Mulder stood by the railing, a little farther down than Skinner, and leaned over to look up under the over hang at the sky as well. 

"Mulder?" Skinner said. 

"Yes, Sir?" Mulder replied. 

"Have you ever thought about what it would be like to live your life over again?" Skinner asked. 

Mulder decided to be honest, "Uh, Yes Sir, probably at least once a day." 

Skinner looked over at him but in the shadows it was hard to read the expression on his face.

 "Well, Mulder, I think I might be getting a chance to do that now," Skinner replied quietly. 

"Now, here?" Mulder asked. 

"Yes, here with Maggie," Skinner replied turning to look at Mulder. 

"Mulder, listen, when you and Scully get done with the investigation here, I want the two of you to go back to DC without me, all right. I'm, uh, I'm going to stay here for a while." Skinner replied. 

Mulder could tell he was completely serious, and even though part of his mind told him something might have been wrong with Skinner's decision he couldn't bring himself to criticize him. 

"All right, Sir, and for what it's worth, I wish the two of you the best, I really mean it," Mulder replied. 

Skinner cleared his throat and looking at Mulder replied, "Thanks, Fox." 

"Coffee anyone?" Maggie was saying as she and Scully came out onto the porch. She put the tray with the pot and cups down on one of the small tables that lined the porch. Scully was right behind her carrying the cream and sugar bowls as well as a fist full of spoons.

"Here, let me take those," Mulder offered as Scully tried to juggle the spoons onto the tray. As he took the spoons their hands touched and Mulder maintained the contact for a moment longer than was necessary. 

Scully actually flushed and they did an awkward little dance as Mulder finally got the spoons away from her and onto the tray. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder thought he saw Skinner staring at them with more than average interest. 

"All right, you guys, pour some coffee, we're making another trip for pie," Maggie laughed as both Skinner and Mulder groaned loudly. 

"Now, no complaints, especially from you, Fox, you agreed to try my apple pie, after all," Maggie teased. 

"I surrender, you've convinced me," Mulder answered, hands raised in mock surrender. 

As soon as the women had left the porch again, Skinner crossed his arms and smiled at Mulder. 

"What?" Mulder asked, noticing Skinner's *cat that ate the canary look*. 

"Agent Mulder, I'm going to give you a piece of your own advice, all right?" Skinner began. 

"Sir?" Mulder asked confused. 

"Go with the flow, Mulder," he finished. 

Mulder repeated t