A HIGHLAND TALE
BY LEELEE AND SEEKERONE
RATING: NC-17 for the whole series. This Chapter is fairly clean.
CATEGORY: Sc/Sk, Mulder/O, and then who knows?
Comments:  Thanks to Cat for her insights and beta!
Summary: Skinner and Scully try to find a very lost Mulder
WARNING: This is a working copy with only two chapters finished. 
Which means that we have no idea in what direction this adventure 
will lead us. The pairings and content may (and probably will) change 
as we go along. So please do not archive until we post the completed 
version. One thing that we are sure of is that you should not 
starting reading this series if ANY of the past subject matter of any 
of our stories has ever offended you, that includes kinky sex, 
bondage, spanking and so on. Don't trust us to make this overly 
polite and mushy.
By posting this as a WIP we are asking any input you can give. If you 
like it please, please send us a note, include any wild thoughts you 
may have, and help out. clueseek@swbell.net Viceyy@aol.com

Chapter 1

Why had she turned the heat off before she went to bed last night, 
Scully wondered. She was freezing. Her body felt drugged, so heavy 
with the sleep that even opening her eyes was a chore. Deep sleep 
like this had eluded her so often lately that she tried to ignore the 
fact that she was shivering and fall back under its spell. But it 
wouldn't work. Her bed felt hard and lumpy. Snuggling into the covers 
didn't help. There didn't seem to be any covers. The sleepiness was 
fading slowly and with every beat of her heart, her bed felt harder 
and colder. 

Waking completely, she squeaked in surprise to find herself staring 
into a pair of small brown eyes about six inches from hers. She and 
the squirrel both jumped. The creature ran about three feet up the 
nearest tree trunk and flicked its tail as it chattered at her.  

What the hell? Scully shook her head in disbelief as she looked 
around. She wasn't in her bed. She wasn't even in her apartment. She 
was lying on bare ground. She was naked. Above her were tall trees. 
Their leaves a riot of fall colors. Between the branches peeked a 
startlingly blue sky. 

She breathed in the earthy smell of dirt and growth and rotting 
foliage and lay perfectly still. All her energies on controlling the 
shivers of her body and blending into the stillness around her. She 
didn't want to move. She wanted to go back to sleep and ignore this 
extremely bizarre dream. But she couldn't. The fact was she was 
outside, in some type of a forest and she seemed to have forgotten 
her clothes.

What the hell had happened to her?

Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to feel every part of her body. 
Doing a mental inventory of her parts and pieces. Had she been 
attacked? She couldn't feel any injury other than a soreness that 
could have come from lying on the hard ground too long. 

Had she been raped? She tightened her legs at the thought. No. 
Considering how long it had been she would be able to recognize that 
pain right away. 

She heard a moan from somewhere beside her and her eyes flew open. 
Turning her head to the side, she jumped up to a defensive crouch 
only to quickly recognize the nude body sprawled out near her.

Walter Skinner, her boss, was flat on his stomach naked and 
apparently unconscious. All her protective instincts kicked in and 
forgetting her exposed state she leaped over to him to see if he was 
all right.

She gently touched his neck.  There was a strong but slightly slow 
carotid pulse beneath her fingers, however his skin felt cool to her 
touch.  She couldn't find any blood or signs of other injuries and he 
didn't seem to have any obvious broken bones. 

Okay. Let's get a second opinion here from the expert, she thought as 
she sighed in relief.  She shook his shoulder to wake him and 
whispered "A.D. Skinner. Sir, wake up," in a voice hoarse from 
disuse. 

He rolled over and groaned. His nude body stretching out on the 
ground. Opening his eyes a fraction to see her concerned face above 
his. She held her breath when he gave her a sleepy smile and 
stretched his arms up to hold her. It was such an amazing sight. But 
then the reality of their situation started to register. Looking 
around at their surroundings and then down at his nude body, the 
horror on his face matched her own. 

"Agent Scully! What the hell.. Where are we?"

They both looked around in amazement then back at each other. Staring 
at their nakedness only until they both, as if on cue, look away in 
embarrassment.

The only comforting thought she could come up with was that who ever 
had done this, seemed to be long gone. She looked around for tire 
prints in the soft earth.  Nothing. Not even a trace of a footstep. 

It was almost as though the forest around them was a virgin one. It 
was as though the forest around them was a virgin one, full of bird 
sounds and the squirrel that was busily burying an acorn under a pile 
of leaves.  The branches of the impossibly huge trees kept out most 
of the meager sun. They couldn't be that far from DC, maybe in one of 
the National Parks?

She wrapped her arms around herself and fought the incessant 
shivering. It felt like it was getting colder by the second. 

"Okay. What's the last thing you remember?" Skinner's voice was 
hushed. As though the people who did this to them could overhear. He 
sat up and crossed his arms over his chest matching the protective 
pose she had taken. 

She looked around again warily. Trying so hard to remember. "The 
Marston think tank." She finally answered. "We were walking down a 
corridor and you opened the door to the main lab. Remember?"

"Yeah." Skinner answered, looking intently into her eyes. Without his 
glasses, his eyes appeared intense enough to bore through her 
body. "I had just gotten in an argument with Dr. Feld. He had told us 
to go to the lab if we wanted to and stormed off. But then what?"

The memory of Dr. Feld's bizarre anger at their questions about his 
work and then walking beside her boss down the long hallway was 
clear. But then it became all jumbled. Flashing lights and the odd 
smell and taste of ozone in her mouth. A helpless feeling of falling 
and not being able to catch her breath -- then nothing.

They sat silently on the forest floor for a while. "We were drugged," 
she said at last. "Had to be. They stripped and dumped us out here 
hoping we'll die of exposure."   

The thought brought a clutch of terror to her chest. Not for herself 
or Skinner, but for her partner. Mulder had been missing almost a 
week. If the Lone Gunman were right, and he had been investigating 
Feld, then odds were that this was how he ended up -- cold, alone and 
dumped in this forest without a stitch of clothing to protect him.

Her body began to shake even harder and looking at Skinner, the 
worried expression on his face indicated he might be thinking the 
same thing.  Would they find Mulder dead? She fought the feelings of 
horror and panic she felt.

Skinner rubbed his hands up and down his arms. Looking around he 
finally cleared his throat and said, "Look, where ever we are, we 
need to find water and kind of some shelter before it gets dark. Then 
we can start looking for Mulder"

Scully nodded numbly in agreement as she crouched lower to the ground 
and tried to warm her legs with her arms

Skinner was already up and walking around on unsteady legs peering at 
the ground as though looking for any tracks that would show in which 
direction Feld had left after dumping them here. But she knew he 
would find nothing. No tracks. No disturbances in the piles of leaves 
that had fallen down from the tall trees. Nothing, even the squirrel 
had vanished. 

She pulled her knees up and hugged them close to her chest. Hiding 
her face at the improbable sight of her boss walking around nude in 
front of her. 

They would have to find their own way out. And quickly.

"Scully, there's a little creek over here," Skinner called. "Damn, 
it's cold as  ice water," he muttered as the water dripped from his 
hands.

"Sir, for god's sake, don't drink it.  You know about the pollution 
in National Forests. There's no telling what's in there," Scully 
warned as she got up and stumbled toward him.

"Is that where you think we are? A national park?" His look was 
politely skeptical. 

Scully just looked at him blankly, daring him to come up with any 
other less reasonable idea. 

"Anyway, dehydration's a bigger risk than contaminated water, right 
now," was his gruff comment.

Scully bit her lip as she watched sunlight bounce off the water 
droplets dripping down his chest.  Focus on the problem, Dana, she 
scolded herself. She stooped down to scoop up a hand full of water 
herself.  It was so cold; it almost hurt to drink.  But Skinner was 
right.  They couldn't risk dehydration and they certainly had nothing 
to carry water in.

When she thought she couldn't drink any more, she turned to get up 
and came face to face with Skinner's crotch. Jesus! She had to get 
home safely if only to tell Kim that their girls' room speculation 
had been true. Hurriedly glancing up, she saw Skinner watching her. 
Do something. Say something. Quick, she thought.  

"That way," she said firmly as she pointed downstream.  "We'll try 
and follow the water.  It should lead us to civilization, sooner or 
later."

Skinner just stared at her a moment before nodding.  By unspoken 
agreement, he walked ahead. Survival instincts had kicked in quickly 
and they walked briskly through the forest. She knew he was walking 
in front of her to protect her modesty and was glad for it. In return 
she tried very hard not to ogle his sculpted muscular back and firm 
ass.

The chill quickly destroyed any curiosity she had about his body. 
Despite the fast pace they were taking, she still felt even colder 
with every passing moment. Thoughts of dying of exposure in the dark 
forest kept her short gait up with his much longer one. But there 
just didn't seem to be anything but more dark forest. More tall 
trees. More natural odors and the occasional scurrying noise coming 
from the piles of dry leaves. But no signs of civilization.  No 
discarded beer cans.  No cigarette butts.  Not even a reminder from 
the National Park Service about not feeding the animals.

She made Skinner rest only twice in spite of the fact that her bare 
feet hurt. Once after the first hour when she had painfully stubbed 
her toe on a large rock and once again a few hours later when she 
felt she would cry from the cold. She was beyond caring about their 
nakedness at that point. Skinner sat down beside her and held her 
close. No body warmth could be shared though. He felt like ice 
against her equally cold skin. It was the image of them being found 
like this, dead and frozen and clutching one another in a hopeless 
attempt to stay alive, that pulled her back to her feet at his gentle 
prodding. 

Chivalry was lost on his part and she was beyond caring as they 
bumped into each other's near-hypothermic bodies like drunks and 
continued to walk as best they could. They began to leave a trail of 
muddy, bloody footprints on the rough path from the cuts and bruises 
on their feet.

She felt a sob stuck in her throat at the hopelessness of the 
situation. Her legs were about to give out and she would then beg 
Skinner to go on with out her knowing he would refuse.

They came across the hut so suddenly that they both wasted precious 
moments staring at it in shock. Finally Skinner grabbed her arm in a 
firm grip and with surprising strength, managed to propel them 
through the animal hide covered opening. 

He started to yank the hide down to cover their freezing bodies, but 
then he stopped and looked at a branch that was shoved into the log 
wall. A plaid blanket hung from it and he yanked it down to cover her 
with. He found another one in the corner tucked in what looked like a 
handmade basket of coarse linens. Wrapping it around him, they both 
savored the meager warmth and looked around at the structure in the 
remaining dim light.

Rustic didn't quite describe it, Scully thought. It looked like the 
hut of some kind of hermit. The walls were rough-hewn logs with 
either dark mud or pitch pressed into the cracks. The floor was hard 
packed dirt. The only furniture was a crude table and a bench made 
from a split log. Two piles of straw took up the rest of the small 
structure. It smelled like the owner kept his livestock inside. There 
was another basket near the one with linens. It held some unwashed 
turnips and what looked like old crockery. There were carcasses of 
small animals hanging from the exposed beams. A large fireplace 
against the back wall dominated of the small cabin.  

They both rushed toward it when they realized that the ashes were 
still giving off small wisps of smoke. Grabbing some of the straw, 
Skinner used it as kindling to set the two small logs on fire he 
found leaning against the wall.

Within minutes the logs were blazing and for awhile they were too 
intent on rubbing the feeling back into their hurt and dirty feet to 
question their good luck. Without even speaking, Skinner began to 
frantically rub her arms and shoulders and she reached up and did the 
same for him.

Finally, as if to break the tension Skinner asked, "Think this was 
how the Unabomber lived?"

Scully looked at him in bemused wonder.  It took three hours of nude 
hiking in the wilderness to bring out her boss's sense of 
humor?  "It's got to be some kind of eco-nature freak or hermit. 
Would you look at this place?" she responded.

They both looked around at the small structure. Whoever lived there 
was either crazy or one of those people who shunned everything about 
the modern world. No candles or lamps, just the firelight flickering 
in the small room. 

"Whoever they are, bathing is not high on their to-do list. This 
blanket smells like it belongs to street person." Scully pointed out 
with a grimace. 

The numbness wearing off, Scully got up and looked in the basket of 
linens. It turned out to not be bed linens like she thought. But 
rather course linen nightshirts that fell below her knees when she 
hurriedly pulled one on and tied it at her throat with a piece of 
twine. She wrapped the plaid blanket around herself and threw the end 
over her shoulder like a toga. Skinner got up and did the same. 
Stripping off the blanket, he looked huge in the tiny cabin. His nude 
body seemed to take up even more space than if he were fully dressed. 
The nightshirt fit him more snuggly and fell just below his groin. 
The blanket was not large enough to do much more than wrap about his 
waist. She shook her head and banished a comment about him looking 
like Sean Connery. He wouldn't appreciate her levity and she had 
always found Sean Connery to be way too sexy to start comparing him 
with her boss. 

They piled straw close to the fire and laid down as close as they 
could to it. The fire on her left and Skinner on her right. Her feet 
still felt like ice and she wiggled her toes close to the fire. The 
warmth made them ache and looking at Skinner lying next to her she 
saw that he was watching her movements and seemed fascinated by her 
feet. She wished she had the nerve to snuggle up next to him and get 
really warm. Without saying a word, Skinner reached down and took her 
feet in one hand. Tucking her cold toes between his legs right above 
his knees, he settled back down and closed his eyes. His thighs felt 
strong and warm and any embarrassment she felt at the intimate 
gesture was quickly forgotten as the after effects of the hypothermia 
caused her eyelids to fall shut. 

The sun had disappeared and they could hear the night sounds of the 
forest even through the sturdy walls. 

Someone lived here. Someone who had been here recently, and they 
should take turns sleeping and keeping watch for when that person 
returns. 

Within moments they were both fast asleep. 

End of Chapter One