Title: Conundrum
Author: Chad
Email: Chad_Skywalker@webtv.net
Feedback: Always welcome.
Archive: Yes, just leave my name on it.
Rating: PG13
Category: M/O
Series/Sequel: This story is a sequel to "Dangerous
Undercurrents".
Fandom: The X-Files
Spoilers: This adventure takes place after the TV
story, "Existence".
Disclaimers: All familiar characters belong to CC and
1013. Any others were conceived in my warped
imagination.
Beta Thanks: The lovely Bertina.

Chapter Two: Down And Out In Oxford

Frantically reaching for the door handle, Mulder kept
his eyes focused on the incredible image. Wind blowing
around him, Jamie stared directly at him. His green
eyes blazed with a penetrating fierceness Mulder had
never known before. Outside, the light changed color
and a herd of pedestrians moved across the sidewalk.
His vision obscured, Mulder silently cursed as Jamie
disappeared behind the crowd. Wrestling with his
seatbelt Mulder leapt from the car. Ignoring the irate
horns he ran toward the cement.

Looking from left to right, his heart sank and he
suddenly felt very foolish; not for the first time in
his life, he noted. Taking deep breaths, he returned
to his waiting vehicle. The motorist beside him stared
open mouthed through her car window.

"Road rage makes ya do all sorts of things," he
shrugged.

Closing the door behind him, Mulder fastened his
seatbelt and took a sip of the coffee he'd picked up
from Starbuck's. It's just those dreams, he reminded
himself. He couldn't help but toy with the
possibility.

"Am I losing my mind?" he muttered.

A voice from behind him said, "Could be. Someone shot
a bullet through mine."

Mulder stared into the rearview mirror. Alex Krycek
sat on the back seat. "Now I know I'm dreaming," he
replied.

"Are you? Maybe he's looking for you instead of vice
versa," Krycek suggested.

"What do you know about it?" Mulder shook his head in
an attempt to wake himself up.

"Don't know," the Russian shrugged. "I'm just a
figment of your subconscious."

"I've never thought twice about you."

Alex laughed impishly, "Yeah, sure. I'm in your mind,
Fox. Don't play games with a pro."

In the driving seat, Mulder felt him searching into
his thoughts. He had to put a stop to it.

"You've been alone for too long. Oh, what's this? I
had no idea I rated so highly in your fantasies."

Mulder did not answer but stared straight ahead
through the windshield. White hot anger surged through
him, the old familiar anger Krycek always inspired.
"Shut up!" he threatened, uselessly.

"Did you forget about him just as easily?" wondered
the figment in the back seat.

"No," he replied, blood boiling. This was Mulder's
dream and he didn't see why a rat bastard like Krycek
should be talking down to him. Especially a dead rat
bastard. "Look, why don't you just tell me what you
want?"

Alex's face leaned in close. Even in his dreaming
mind, Mulder could feel his hot breath against his
cheek. His body blazed with a scarlet fire.

"It's out there. Waiting for you," he whispered.

Jamie's faint reflection stared directly through the
window at him. But his face was different; angry and
accusing.

Mulder jerked awake with a start. Looking up, he saw
the vehicle ahead far in the distance. He was alone in
his car; no Jamie, no Krycek -- the visions had
vanished once more. He sighed and waved behind at the
blaring horns. Glancing up again, his hands froze on
the wheel. Mulder rubbed a hand across his bleary
eyes. A phantasm, a peculiar dream that's all it had
been. Things were getting out of control. Shifting
gear and pressing his foot down, he sped toward the
airport.

~oo0oo~

Relaxing his back against the plush seat, Mulder
allowed the jazz music pouring from his portable CD
player to calm his senses. He stared out of the window
at the warm, pink evening clouds passing by. He'd
boarded the flight just in the nick of time, and
things had been uneventful ever since. Mainly due to
the fact that he refused to let himself fall asleep
again. For the life of him he could not understand why
Alex Krycek had taken a starring role in his dreams.
Was it guilt? He'd watched, frozen in time, as Walter
Skinner gunned the man down after a series of constant
threats. It had all been so surreal; as if made up in
the mind of some deranged writer.

After all the years of fighting, Alex was dead and no
longer a threat. Mulder had not been blind to the fact
that those actions produced a profound effect on
Skinner. A young steward, with features not disimilar
to Krycek pushed a drinks trolley up the aisle. He
gave Mulder a little wink, and Mulder smiled back
nervously. It reminded him of the insinuations the
Alex in his dreaming mind had made. He could never
maintain an argument with Krycek. It always ended
explosively; the Russian was always too strategic, too
cunning, too ruthless... too sensuous. Mulder felt
confusion rise up and become pure shock. What had
Dream Alex meant by 'Out there. Waiting.'? What was he
trying to do?

A rumble of turbulence shook through the plane. Mulder
just ignored it and concentrated his thoughts on what
lie ahead in Oxford. He felt a nervous anticipation in
his heart. Maybe he would finally find the answers.
Maybe he would finally find the truth.

~oo0oo~

Carolyn Prentice Fredericks stood among a line of
family and friends impatiently waiting on the
airplane's passengers to disembark. Brandon was off on
an assignment, the twins were looking after the house,
which gave her the free time to pick up her old
college friend. Carolyn fidgeted a bit in the cold
terminal. She didn't know how to explain everything to
Foxy; she couldn't quite believe it herself. Her face
brightened at the sight of a tall, lanky, criminally
handsome man with short brown hair walking with a
carryon toward her. His face broke into a patented Fox
charm-the-pants-off-of-you Mulder grin.

"Foxy!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his
neck.

He hugged her back warmly. "Carolyn, you look
terrific!"

She stood back and observed him up and down. "Well,
look at you! Just as good looking as ever. I'd hate to
see the portrait hidden in your attic," she laughed.
Her voice was a disarming mixture of Southern and
British.

"How long have you been living here now?" he asked.

"Um... Gosh! Since the last time I saw you. I met
Brandon and the rest was history."

"Carolyn, I have to know. What's going on?" Mulder
gently took hold of her arm.

She looked up into his hazel eyes. "I think you might
want to sit down first," she suggested.

He sighed. "I've come straight off a plane, Carrie.
Just tell me."

Hooking her arm around his, Carolyn lead him through
the swishing electronic doors toward the security
area. "About a year ago, a student was found," she
whispered the next word, "murdered... in Oxford
woods."

"And you think there's a connection with what happened
in 1983?" Mulder immediately sensed where this was
heading.

She shook her head. "Not at first. You see my husband
is a journalist and his contacts in the police
department tipped him off."

"Tipped him to what?" Mulder, focused on Carolyn's
story, didn't notice the heavy set security guard
waiting with his hand out for Mulder's luggage.
Carolyn nudged him in the ribs. "Oh! Yes, here you
are."

A distracted Carolyn let her mind wander. "You're a
very hard person to track down, Foxy. I tried to get
in touch with you back when it all happened. Were you
buried under a rock?"

"No, just buried," he muttered under his breath.

"You what?"

"Nothing. You know what they told me in the hospital
after the accident?" Carolyn shook her long blonde
head. "That my amnesia was a 'merciful blessing'."

"Maybe it was," she concurred. "You still don't
remember what happened?"

"No," he admitted, dejectedly. "Whenever I try to
focus on anything, it's like, like... wandering
through a fog."

"I still get a chill from the memories." Carolyn
shivered involuntarily, and huddled within her faux
rabbit coat.

"Exactly what do you remember?" asked Mulder. Not once
had she offered any information. When she winced, he
decided to try a different tact. "We never got a
chance to compare notes. You left school a month
later."

She nodded, grateful for the change in subject. She
didn't like the lady in the large blue hat
eavesdropping from behind. Nor the weirdo in a fedora
and trenchcoat staring at them.

"Like I said, I met Brandon and I was..." She tried to
think of the proper word. "...in the family way."

Mulder's eyebrows shot up. "Carolyn! And I thought I
was the wild one."

She stifled a giggle. "Silly! It was all very
innocent. And besides he made me an honest woman. My
hands were too full with the twins to be wild."

"Twins?"

"Mmm-hmm. Jessica and James."

"James?"

"After Jamie," she gave him a full smile. "You know
how much I adored him."

Mulder looked away, a pang of sadness returning. A
hand went to her mouth. "Oh, Foxy I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to..."

"No, I'm here to rediscover the past," he told her,
adamantly. "Now, can we get back to what you remember
and what you found out?"

"Oh, look here's your bags," she pointed. The guard
handed over Mulder's luggage, and the pair walked on
down a slanted corridor toward the nearest exit. Away
from the crowd, Mulder gave her an expectant look.
Carolyn continued, "Soon after the boy's body was
found in the forest, there were two more deaths."

"Under the same circumstances?" he pressed.

"Yes," she began slowly. "All of them unexplained.
Mulder, one of them was Professor Wickham and..."

Mulder's breath caught in his throat. For an instant,
a vision flashed before his eyes of a small
white-haired man flourishing a leather satchel. "The
professor?"

"And Inspector Winston," she finished. Carolyn watched
as the information sunk itself in. She bit her lip,
worried.

Mulder blinked several times, and felt a sharp pain in
his head. "Whoa!" exclaimed Carolyn, catching him when
his legs wobbled. She helped her friend to an empty
chair. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said, holding his temples. "Ah... just the
rush of stepping off the plane."

She narrowed her eyes. "Right. Look Foxy, I might not
have finished university but I know a lie when I hear
one."

"Carolyn, please go on." He squeezed her shoulder
reasurringly.

"I don't think..."

"Please?"

Had it been a mistake to ask Mulder to come here? The
feeling behind his eyes sucked her in. That Foxy magic
she remembered so well. Against her better judgement,
Carolyn resumed her tale.

"The cause of death was never found. One thing the
police kept secret was another strange discovery in
those woods. A hole blown clean up through the
ground."

Mulder jumped on her words. "Blown up? A hole? What
was found at the bottom of the hole?"

"You and your fascination with holes," she said,
cheekily.

"Carolyn."

"Sorry, just trying to make you smile. They didn't
find anything."

"What? They didn't investigate?"

"Mulder, don't you remember the legends of those
woods?" She let out an exasperated sigh. "Nobody will
even go near them."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," he said, quickly. "If
this all happened a year ago, what's been going on
since?"

"Good question! My husband became intrigued with the
stories and decided to write an article. He found out
that an American company made a huge donation to the
university and were granted permission to excavate the
woods."

"What did they find?" He was half afraid of her
answer.

She inhaled deeply. "They completely uncovered a
series of catacombs, and found skeletons..."

"Carolyn, was..." he began, slowly.

"No, no. That's why I wanted so desperately to find
you, Foxy. Most of the bodies have been identified by
dental records... I wasn't sure if..."

Mulder's heart filled with a hope and joy he had not
known in a long time. He leapt up, startling Carolyn.
"Do you know what this means?"

"Mulder, wait! Calm down. Yes, it's a possibility. It
would be a miracle if Jamie survived."

"This explains everything!" he cried.

"Explains what?"

He gripped her shoulders, staring into her incredulous
face. "I've been having dreams about him for some time
now. I thought it was my memories trying to tell me
what happened. But on my way to the airport, I thought
I... No! I saw Jamie in D.C.!"

"Mulder!" The almost fanatical gleam in his eye caused
an uneasiness in Carolyn. She patted his arms. "Let's
find out for sure before you start thinking this is
the second coming."

Mulder picked up his suitcase and carryon, turned and
broke out into a jog toward the exit. "I want to go to
the site - now!"

Carolyn shook her head in amazement. That man had not
changed one bit!

As the pair left the airport terminal, the man in a
fedora and trenchcoat spoke into a cell phone. A
photograph of Fox Mulder clutched in his hand.

~oo0oo~

The drive from Gatwick to Oxford had been, for the
most part, a silent one. Carolyn refused to let Mulder
build his hopes up for nothing. Her first thought had
been the slim chance that Jamie got out alive. Brandon
insisted that she look at the situation realistically.
The chances were slim to none, but she had to know not
only for Mulder's sake, but her own. She had carried
the guilt of not watching Jamie more carefully for
eighteen years. She would never forget the nights
spent with Mulder near the site, before the search was
abandoned. He'd been heartbroken, and she herself
couldn't grasp the deaths of Ryan and Jamie. The way
Mulder had transferred his grief on his studies
created a gap between them. She tried to keep in
touch, but as with all things, they grew apart and she
left school. She'd been quite surprised to hear that
he and Phoebe had started dating again. Jamie would've
had a fit!

...That is if he... Carolyn concentrated on the road
ahead. Beside her, Mulder was pouring over her
husband's notes with a penlight. She hoped that this
trip wouldn't be for nothing. In a way, she could
almost understand why Foxy shut out all talk of Jamie;
became obssessed with school; and dating Phoebe. It
was easier to forget than face the pain. By coming
back, he seemed more than willing to face the ghosts
of the past. But could she?

Mulder looked up at the shrouded British countryside
rushing by. He felt on the brink of something
important. Carolyn's husband's notes were very
thorough. It seemed that Jamie's family requested not
to have any dealings with the original investigation.
His grandmother had actually cursed a detective over
the phone, refusing to believe that her grandson was
dead! Mulder felt an incredible energy in his soul.
Could it be possible?

Turning down the Corrs' latest, Carolyn glanced over
at her friend. "Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Do you believe in miracles?"

"Yes, I suppose I do. What about you?"

He pondered this. "I'd just about given up on
mysteries," he admitted. "But now I'm not so sure...
There's a lot of things I'm not sure about anymore..."
His voice trailed off. "Yes, I still believe," he
stated firmly.

The little yellow convertible puttered on through the
night.

~oo0oo~

The large, high beam flashlight sparked into life in
Mulder's hand. He'd packed in a hurry, but this was
one of the first things he grabbed. Any hope that
Oxford woods could jog his memories failed to inspire.
There was scarcely a tree left. The entire area had
been bulldozed, particular areas marked out with
abandoned wooden pegs, orange tape forming
checkerboard like squares.

"Was this company archaeologists?" he wondered aloud.

Carolyn left the car's lights on, the double lines of
light piercing the blackness. She hurried across to
Mulder, keeping so close that she repeatedly bumped
into him. "What? Oh, no, not at all. That's what
Brandon found so funny."

"Well, what was the joke?"

"Why a genetic company would want to dig up a haunted
wood."

Carolyn's words hung on the misty air. Why indeed,
Mulder wondered. He stopped before a little, white
sign planted in the ground. In red block letters it
read,

EXCAVATION FUNDED BY AVATAR

"Avatar?" he rolled the word around in his mouth.
Bfore he could mull it over further, Carolyn gasped
and nearly stepped on his toe. 
"Did you hear that?" she hissed.

Mulder flashed the light around. "Hear what?"

"A twig snapping." Her fear filled eyes turned to him.
"What if someone... or something's out there?"

Squinting, Mulder only recognized a soft wind
whistling by. "And they call me paranoid," he smiled,
trying to lift her spirits.

"Oh, you!" She smacked him in the arm. "I don't know
why you couldn't wait to come here in the morning,
Foxy. For pete's sake, I can't see a thing!"

"What's this?" He pointed the flashlight at a large
burrow, supported by props. The entrance had been
completely boarded up.

"I think that must be the way inside the catacombs,"
Carolyn guessed. "I guess they sealed it up after
finding the bodies."

Mulder thrust the flashlight into her hands. "I want
to get inside!" he exclaimed, reaching forward to pry
the boards loose.

"Mulder! I am not going in there."

The boards were fixed firmly in place. Mulder stood
back and hissed between his teeth. In a fit of anger,
he kicked out at a board. He stalked back toward her,
determination glaring from his eyes. "Carolyn, I want
to know everything. No matter how painful it may be."

"Foxy," she began gently. "I know about as much as you
do. I was never down there."

"Yes, but what happened before? It's all on the tip of
my mind. I only need a push to jar the memories."

She shook her head vigorously. "No, no. I don't want
to remember."

"You made the choice to remember when you called me,
Carrie. Come on, it's just the two of us out here. You
can tell me."

The softness of his voice had the desired effect. She
let her mind flow back to the autumn of 1983. "It all
began after we met Jamie. There were two... deaths."

"Deaths," he repeated. "Yes, I-I think I remember."

"Jamie started having bad dreams..."

"Dreams?" Mulder repeated, distantly.

"You were really worried, frightened even. Then, out
of the blue you asked me to look after him."

"Look after Jamie. Why?" He shot his eyes back to her.

Saltwater welled in her clear blue eyes. "You thought
that someone was after him."

"Who? Carolyn, think! Try to remember."

"It was a long time ago. I didn't know at first," her
voice rose to an almost hysterical pitch.

"Know what?"

She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It was Sebastian
Beal, he kidnapped Jamie... and it was all my fault."

Carolyn buried her face in Mulder's shoulder, weeping
openly. Something about this seemed familiar, but it
was like a television drama... something he'd watched
instead of experienced. 
"It's alright, Carolyn," he said, patting her back.
"One thing I'm sure of, Jamie would never blame you
for anything."

"He was always so kind, so gentle," she sniffed. "And
he loved you so much."

"What happened next?" Mulder asked, hopeful. He had to
focus on the events leading up to the cave in.

"Professor Wickham showed up and everything went
bananas," she explained, as she wept. "There was a
terrifying sound. I can still hear it some nights. We
couldn't move... The professor did something and the
sound stopped."

For an instant, Mulder could hear a whispering,
dragging sound. But the images refused to come.
Carolyn looked up into his faraway face. "Do you
remember?" she sniffed.

"Unfortunately, no." An old familiar despair took
hold. "Why can't I remember?" He slung his arms out at
the plowed ground. "I was here when it all happened,
but everytime I grasp onto a solid, real memory it
slips through my fingers."

Carolyn gasped in surprise, and Mulder shielded his
eyes against the glare of approaching headlights. Who
could this be? Who would be coming out here, beside
them? The lights dimmed and Mulder made out a couple
of slim figures emerging from a car.

"Hello, Fox," Inspector Phoebe Green smiled.

"Phebes?" Carolyn breathed.

This had been a day full of surprises. The last time
Mulder saw Phoebe was when he and Scully helped her on
a case that was most definitely an X-File.

"Well, this is really turning into old home week," he
smirked. "Phoebe, how did you know?"

She shrugged. "I've been expecting you to turn up. I
have men posted at the airports."

"Lucky you," Mulder half joked.

"And when I heard you entered the country I figured
you'd end up here. I just didn't expect to find you in
Carolyn's arms."

"Oh," Carolyn bristled.

"Then why are you here?" Mulder inquired. "To keep us
away from the site?"

Phoebe stared across at him. Why did he have to be so
hostile, so distrusting? "Look, if this is about
Jamie..."

Carolyn cut her off. "You never liked him."

"Look, I'm not here to talk about that. Fox, I brought
someone you'd like to meet."

For the first time, Mulder and Carolyn took in the
stunningly beautiful young woman with Phoebe. Her
porcelain face was framed in long, dark hair which
shined in the car's headlights.

"Hi," she smiled.

"This is Miss Brown," Phoebe introduced them. "A
psychic investigator whose services have come in
handy."

"Thank you." Miss Brown shook hands with a stunned
Mulder and Carolyn. "Inspector Green filled me in on
the details. I've always found the woods to be an
interesting source of spectral activity."

She started walking around the deserted excavation.
"This place smells of death," she said, dreamily.

Mulder stepped forward and took Phoebe aside. "Phoebe,
you actually brought a psychic out here?"

"Nice to see you again, too, Fox."

"I'm sorry, I... just..."

"Look, I knew you'd investigate eventually. I knew you
wouldn't be satisifed until you found the truth."

A low wailing grabbed their attention. Carolyn hurried
over to Mulder's side, gripping his leather jacket
tightly. Miss Brown stood with her hands outstretched,
her eyes staring.

"Evil... evil was unleashed here," she whispered.

"What evil?" Mulder urgently asked, but Phoebe hushed
him.

In her mind's eye, Miss Brown saw a circle of thirteen
black cowled figures surrounding a stone. The image
changed to a young man, with blonde hair and green
eyes. She whirled around and pointed a finger at
Mulder.

"You!" she proclaimed. "There is a presence all around
you... One who was here... One you loved and lost...
One who is lost... One who is lost..."

Goosebumps spread across Mulder's skin; a gutwrenching
fear raced into his heart. No, no, Jamie couldn't be
dead. Please don't let him be dead.

"What do you see?" Phoebe asked, neutrally.

"Tunnels... torches... dark figures..." As Miss Brown
described her psychic vision, Mulder felt an aching
pain building up behind his eyes. Shadowy images
blinked in rapid succession before him...

Narrow tunnels, flickering torches set at intervals
along the rock walls. Intersections leading deeper
into the earth. Have to find him! Must find him! Men
in long, black robes appearing on the edge of his
vision...

"There's a boy... he's filled with fear... but not for
himself... Someone he loves is in danger... No!" Miss
Brown screamed the words, experiencing the raw
emotions generated by her gift.

A stream of sweat rolled down Mulder's face. He saw a
curved knife held in a gloved hand. It flew through
the air...

"NO!"

"NO!"

Mulder and Miss Brown cried out in unison. 
Shocked back to reality, they both crumpled to the
ground. Carolyn and Phoebe were at a loss as to who to
help first.

~*~*~*~*~

Mulder walked along a vast beach of golden sand. High
above, the sky was a kalediscope of vivid indigo and
bright silver stars. The gentle breaking of waves
filled his mind. Nearby he spotted an old sign beside
the carved white cliffs.
 
UNDERCURRENTS
Bringing Things To The Surface

He cocked his head to the side. It seemed distantly
familiar. A long forgotten slogan. A message from the
past. He moved on, laying his naked body down on the
surprisingly warm sand. He peered into the night sky.
The stars twinkled down at him mischieviously. One
particular star floated in space, waiting for
something. The star moved closer to Mulder, changing
from silver to a brilliant gold. It had green eyes and
flowing blonde hair. Mulder reached out for a burning
kiss of desire. His body was aflame with an intense
need for that kiss. Their lips slowly began to
touch...

"I think he's coming around," a voice said.

~*~*~*~*~

Mulder awoke with a jolt, strangely energized, beneath
the comforter of a luxuriant hotel bed. Lost in shock,
he pressed a hand to his tingling lips. The star... he
knew in his heart it was Jamie.

"Good morning," Carolyn said.

He blinked around. "What? Where am I?"

Phoebe and Carolyn exchanged concerned glances after
spending a vigilent night by his bedside. Miss Brown
had recovered quickly; assuring them that Mulder would
be fine, and after returning her home, Phoebe had
followed Carolyn to the hotel she'd booked for Mulder.
He slept through the night, giving the two women a
chance to make an uneasy peace. The little whimperings
and moans Fox made had caused some concern.

"That must have been some dream you had," Carolyn
ventured, slyly.

"Um, I, ah yes, quite." He actually blushed.

"Are you feeling better?" Phoebe asked.

"What happened?" He winced from the bright sunlight
streaming in.

"Miss Brown called it a psychic fusion," Carolyn
explained. "Whatever that means."

Phoebe sighed, and stretched her back. "You both
experienced the same vision."

Mulder nodded vaguely. "I know what it means. Did she
say if..."

"No, Foxy. What was the last thing she said before
passing out, Phoebe?" Carolyn said, sitting on the
edge of his bed.

"She felt a great crashing," Phoebe replied, thinking
back.

"I'm sorry you didn't get the answers you needed,"
Carolyn said.

"This might help," Phoebe offered, tossing a thick
folder onto the bed near Mulder. He picked it up and
started leafing through. "It's a report on the deaths
in '83 along with those from last year."

Mulder smiled a stunning smile. "Thanks, Phoebe."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "It's the least I could do,
but I wouldn't get my hopes up."

He slipped out of his T shirt and grabbed at his
suitcase. "They're already in the stratosphere," he
told them. "Jamie's alive!"

Carolyn looked at Phoebe, then at Mulder in wide eyed
puzzlement.

"Just how did you come to that conclusion?" asked
Phoebe.

He whirled around, talking hurriedly. "You've heard of
precognitive dreams? I believe mine have been trying
to point me toward him all this time. I thought I was
just going mad, when I should have been paying
attention to the clues."

"Mulder, calm down!" Carolyn exclaimed. "You're
starting to scare me!"

"I'm starting to scare myself, actually," he said,
shrugging into a fresh shirt.

Phoebe rushed to his side and gripped his arm. "Come
on, do you honestly believe that Jamie Grayson could
still be alive after all this time? I mean, why
wouldn't he contact you?"

He paused, refusing to let doubt in. "I don't know,
but I have every intention of learning exactly what
happened." He looked at the sunrise colors through the
window. "Jamie is out there, and I'm going to find
him!"

[Next Episode: Midnight Madness]