BODY OF EVIDENCE

Headers and disclaimers can be found in Part 1 and now...
on with the story

PART XI

Norfolk Island Police Station
8.40am

Fate isn't usually kind to Mulder but with its perverted 
sense of humour, it smiled on him today. 

Steve Thompson wasn't on rostered duty this morning which 
spared the discomfort of having to work with the man 
whose girlfriend screws him over by screwing *him* over.

Half an hour's distraction in reading over Porter's notes 
from last night is enough to remind Mulder that Jack was 
nowhere to be seen and he wasn't about to phone Thommo to 
find out where he might be.

Not knowing where else to try, Mulder decided that Porter 
would have to come into the station sooner or later. 
Mulder would prefer sooner, especially after the 
conversation he had with the Australian Federal Police in 
Canberra an hour ago.

His mood wasn't improved when Porter sauntered in 
casually. Godammit, he was actually humming to himself.

"What's got you into a good mood this morning?" Mulder 
snarled.

Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise and then grinned. 
"Practicing my interrogation technique."

"On whom?"

"Uh-uh, a gentleman never tells."

Seeing the expression of Mulder's face, Porter continued.

"Don't worry, I wasn't ambushed. It was completely 
consensual."

"What about the virus Scully found?"

"Well she hasn't found the virus is doing any harm and if 
it heightens sexual pleasure, then who cares?"

Porter took in Mulder's look of disbelief.

"C'mon, don't tell me that sex wasn't mind blowing with 
Becky. Just imagine that experience each and every time. 
Scrap that, you've been using your imagination alone for 
too long."

Mulder started to flush at the memory of he and Becky. He 
shook his head swiftly and folded his arms. "Don't make 
this about me buddy, this is about finding who killed 
Wendy."

"We've agreed to let Dana interrogate Becky, so what else 
we got? Anything come in from Murray this morning?"

It was the opening Mulder needed. "How well did you know 
him?"

Porter frowned.

"It was the first time I'd worked with him but I've seen 
his name around at conferences and the like," he 
shrugged. "He lives in Sydney, been with the AFP for ten 
years..."

"...raised on Norfolk Island."

"Shit."

"I pulled the full personnel records on Birch on a hunch 
after I was told he'd been on leave since you both came 
back from Norfolk Island.

"He was actually born in Sydney, apparently there were 
some minor complications with the pregnancy; he was 
delivered Caesarean. He went to primary school on the 
island but was a boarder at an Anglican Boys' College for 
his secondary schooling.

"I'm convinced he's back on the island orchestrating this 
whole cover up, if not the murder itself."

"Does Dana know about this?" asked Porter quietly.

"I haven't spoken to her today," Mulder admitted.

"Perhaps we should before she talks to Becky."

"We'll pick up Scully from the hospital and head back to 
the cottage because there's something else. I need for 
her to see a section from the pile of tapes I borrowed 
from Coral C. 

"It's about Wendy and how she died."


******

Sea Mist Cottage
1pm

"Play that back one more time," Scully asked. 

Mulder obliged, running the tape back 10 minutes. The 
three of them had already watched the tape seven times 
over. Porter had seen enough, wandering outside for a 
cigarette and to call on the two-way for a woman, a local 
restaurateur to be brought in for questioning.

Scully had ceased to be discomforted by the action on 
screen. It was the equivalent of surveillance footage 
now. One man as yet unknown and one woman identified as 
Sylvie Harper were suspects. The third woman, Wendy, was 
the victim.

Mulder had explained that this tape, unlabelled, was not 
part of Coral C's usual unedited footage. In fact Shaun 
McKenzie was appalled when Mulder confronted him with it 
earlier in the morning.

McKenzie pointed out that the recording was made on just 
a basic domestic quality video camera. There was no 
editing time code. None of the 'actors' were in make-up 
nor was there professional lighting.

Indeed the man turned green when he saw the final 10 
minutes.

The setting was somewhat utilitarian, no warmth, just 
featureless painted cement block walls. The camera was 
trained on a bed where Wendy lay naked. Her wrists 
manacled and stretched above her head, her ankles were 
also shackled. A close fitting collar circled her neck.

Just visible in shot, on the other side of the bed was a 
rack filled with sex toys.

Mulder kept an eye on the VCR counter. He went back only 
so far. There was no need for Scully to run through the 
whole hour-long tape to watch the menage a trois with 
overtones of bondage unfold.

His own porn collection was hard enough to keep from 
Scully without having her learn that this scenario 
somewhat appealed to him too somewhat. Scully bound, 
doing whatever he told her - maybe with Diana - giving 
his partner no choice but to trust him completely...

The last section of the tape told a different story which 
his partner insisted on watching over again.

With a clinician's eye Scully observed the woman in 
centre frame as her breathing went from post orgasmic to 
distressed. Sweat broke out across her increasingly 
flushed body.

Then the convulsions started, wrenching Wendy violently 
off the bed restrained by her bonds. As the camera and 
tripod are shoved out of the way and fall making the 
image tilt bizarrely before going blank, it records for a 
few seconds Sylvie and the unknown man rushing to the bed 
ineffectually trying to halt the seizures. 

"That explains the bruising on the neck, wrists and 
ankles as well as haemorrhaging we found in the autopsy," 
Scully sat back from the screen and finished writing her 
notes.

"Wendy's blood pressure was through the roof. This 
footage explains almost everything about her death."

"Except how she acquired the stab wounds. You want to 
hear a theory?"

Scully turned to him for his response.

"From what you've found and this footage would I be 
correct in saying that seizure would have sent Wendy into 
non responsive state?"

"That's right. I think I see where you're going with 
this," Scully nodded. "Wendy's two companions panic and 
decide to dump the body, but she begins to recover 
consciousness..."

"...having talked themselves into concealing a body and 
possibly having already made attempts to dump her, they 
panic further when she begins to revive. She is stabbed 
in a frenzy by everyone who is at the scene, which 
explains the different types stab wounds."

Scully tapped her pencil against her note pad 
thoughtfully and watched Mulder pace the room. She took 
comfort in this familiar routine.

"Because of her prolific sex life, Wendy had such a high 
exposure to the virus but instead of developing an 
immunity to it, she had a severe allergic reaction," she 
added.

"But I don't know who else is going to be a candidate for 
this type reaction or whether standard forms of treatment 
would have stopped Wendy's seizures or anyone else's for 
that matter.  

"The good news is the virus' effects are short lived 
unless there is repeated exposure. I would venture to say 
that if we pulled another blood test, you'd be just about 
back to normal - just like Jack's second test."

Mulder nodded, he wasn't going mention Porter's more 
recent nocturnal activities.

"Everyone involved in this is going to be on their best 
behaviour to avoid arousing any suspicions," added 
Scully. 

"All the suspects are likely to be in one place at this 
party tonight," Mulder mused. "It's all very Agatha 
Christie."

******

Highland Fling Cafe
5.55pm

Mike slams a sheaf of papers on the counter followed by a 
fist. That got everyone's attention. He looked at the 
assembly with disgust. 

Davenport was white as a sheet and Sylvie in tears being 
comforted ineffectually by Davenport's skank of a 
daughter now dressed respectably in her customs uniform 
ready for her evening shift.

Then there was Becky whose unwelcome news brought 
everyone here.

Mike caught Birch's eye and shook his head.

"You could arrest these fuckwits now and still be a 
hero," he offered.

"No," he shook his head sadly. "I'm an Islander and we'll 
see this through together. Besides I'm already an 
accessory after the fact.

"Mind you, if Becky had destroyed the video tape as she 
was supposed to..."

Becky scowled at him. "Well, you're the cop. Isn't it 
mitigating circumstances or something because the tape 
shows that Wendy had some kind of fit? She really killed 
herself you know."

Murray's laugh was bitter.

"You stupid bitch, she didn't stab herself. The only hope 
is if everyone keeps their mouth shut because there is no 
way to prove who out of the five you delivered the death 
blow.

"There is just enough room to manoeuvre to set up 
reasonable doubt if it gets to a trial."

"But that's not going to be enough is it?" The question 
came from Mike.

"No, it's not but we have to do what we've been doing -
destroying the credibility of these agents. Porter's 
compromised because of me anyway," answered Birch.

"Becky has to get to Mulder again and this time it has to 
be on tape, he can either be blackmailed into keeping the 
case unsolved or we'll go public, claim he demanded sex 
to keep Becky's moonlighting a secret.

"According to my contacts, Mulder's boss is just looking 
for one more screw up to throw him out of the Bureau."

"Leave Agent Scully to me, I think she wants me," Mike 
nodded with a wry smile. "I'll keep her occupied while 
Becky goes to work."

"I'll deal with Porter myself," agreed Murray. He turned 
to Sylvie and Rob.

"And as for you two idiots, you're going to this party 
tonight and you are going to stay where at least 100 
people can see you at a time. You don't take a leak 
without a witness.

"If we pull this off, we have a shot of getting out of 
this. No matter what the outcome tonight, everything you 
do will be under a microscope at your trial.

"Piss off, the lot of you and don't fuck this up. I've 
got a phone call to make to my mate Porter."

END OF PART XI

PART XII

Sea Mist Cottage
7.15pm

Despite misgivings Scully put on her costume, half 
listening to a conversation Mulder was having on the 
telephone in the other room.

Murray Birch had turned up. Porter was going to meet him 
at place Birch had insisted upon - Cock Pit Falls at 
11pm.

Scully examined herself in the bedroom's full-length 
mirror. Her outfit was a simple full-length dress in 
apricot lawn, short sleeved, falling wide across the 
shoulders and low across the breasts. A lace-up bodice in 
black cinched in her tiny waist.

Staring critically in the mirror for a moment and she 
tugged at the gaping front of her neckline. Putting on a 
pair of flat shoes, ideal for running in, Scully walked 
into the living room.

She paused. Mulder had his back to her, finishing up the 
call with Jack. He was dressed as a captain of the guards 
in buff breeches, white shirt and red coat. She paused - 
the sight of him affected her viscerally but she didn't 
know why. She reached for the back of the sofa for 
support.

Mulder at that moment turned and his eyes widened. A 
fleeting vision of he and Scully intertwined as lovers 
punched him hard in the gut. He closed his eyes and tried 
to recapture a dream that seemed as real as a memory.

A touch on the arm was almost his undoing.

"Are you okay?"

Mulder opened his eyes to see the Scully he was familiar 
with, the friend, the agent, the doctor.

He nodded and gave a weak smile clasping her shoulder in 
appreciation.

"You?"

"I'm fine."

"Then let's go."

********

Cook's Point
Convicts and Colonial Party
9.45pm

Guests arrived by foot, walking a quarter of a mile from 
the car park to the point where a large covered marquee 
dominated the open parkland. Long trestle tables and 
benches filled two-thirds of the space, a folk band set 
up on the corner while the rest of the space was filled 
with drunken revellers fumbling their way through 
traditional dances.

The smell of spit cooked meat and roast vegetables filled 
the air as did applause and calls of delight from those 
observing jugglers and acrobats in the cool, clear 
evening.

The atmosphere was more a medieval fair than a costume 
party and everyone attending threw themselves completely 
into the event.

For the first hour after arriving Mulder and Scully 
searched the party perimeter looking for Sylvie and 
Becky. 

Instead they encountered Sylvie and Davenport seated in 
the main marquee.

"Mind if we join you?" asked Mulder setting his plate 
down next to Davenport. Scully flanked the other side 
next to Sylvie.

The pair glanced at one another but said nothing.

"Great party, we're having a marvellous time. Aren't we 
Scully?"

Mulder's partner nodded, spearing a piece of jacket roast 
potato. Mulder joined her by tucking into a large slice 
of roast pork. 

"So tell me," he asked between bites. "Why didn't you 
call a doctor after Wendy went into convulsions."

"I did," whispered Sylvie, who would have said more had 
Davenport not hissed at her.

"You do know that you're not under arrest.  Frankly I 
don't know or care if this place has a Miranda rule," 
Mulder managed to make and eye contact with Sylvie. 

"I just want to know the truth."

Davenport drank his beer, refusing to look at either the 
agents or Sylvie but surprisingly he was the first to 
speak.

"It was an accident, just a horrible accident."

"Are you ready to make a statement?" Scully asked gently. 
"I think Wendy deserves that much."


******

Despite the revelry around them Scully struggled to 
muster find enthusiasm for the surveillance. She was 
desperately keen to question both Sylvie and Davenport to 
put together a narrative of Wendy's last hours as well as 
find out from Sylvie who the man was that she and Wendy 
were with on the tape.

It wasn't Davenport, the man on the tape was more deeply 
tanned and stockier.

She curbed her impatience knowing that the pair of them 
will still be waiting at the police station when she and 
Mulder were done.

Now they were sitting watching the folk band and a group 
of 40 enthusiastically dancing a reel, at the same time 
keeping an eye out for Becky. Davenport's daughter had 
been picked up for questioning at the start of her shift 
at the airport.

Mulder stood and Scully looked up at him wondering if he 
was going to ask her to dance as he did a year or so ago 
at a Cher concert. Then the tune finished and the dance 
caller announced the band was going to take a 15-minute 
break.

"Where are you going?" she asked as he stepped away from 
the table.

He winked, "Secret men's business."

"I'll go with you, we haven't seen any of our target 
yet." 

Scully started to rise but was stayed by Mulder's hand at 
her shoulder.

"We've verified that she's here tonight. Becky will have 
to pass through here at some point. A quick split up will 
allow us to cover more ground."

Mulder noted the look of scepticism on his partner's face 
as he started to walk away. 

With a placating raise of his hands, he added, "I'll be 
back in five minutes and you have my word as an Indian 
Guide that I won't talk to any strangers."

"You're not leaving already are you?"

The agents turned to see Dr Schofield with three tankards 
of beer. Dressed in simple dark blue trousers and a loose 
fitting paler blue shirt open at the dark, he looked 
rather dashing. 

Approaching the table, the doctor set on the table two 
mugs he had managed to carry in one hand down and took a 
large swig out of the other one he had in his right hand.

"That looks good doc, just let me get rid of the last one 
and I'll be right back," Mulder excused himself.

Schofield took Mulder's vacated seat.

"Cheers," he saluted, taking another mouthful. Scully 
returned the gesture with a sip of her beer.

"A draught? " she enquired, drinking some more. "It's 
very good."

"It's a little heavier than the lager but it has a richer 
taste," he offered. "You don't really strike me a beer 
connoisseur."

Scully smiled. "Navy family - my father and both 
brothers, you quickly learn to develop a taste."

Despite the misgivings of being so close to Dr Schofield 
at the hospital, Scully felt relaxed here surrounded by a 
large crowd enjoying themselves. 

After spending the first hour feeling self-conscious 
about her costume Scully started to realise that she was 
enjoying how it felt against her skin, aware of the 
impression she made. And she liked it a lot. 

A pity Mulder hadn't returned yet, she'd be interested in 
his opinion on the subject. 

Recalling how he looked at her earlier that evening in 
the cottage, Scully decided she wanted him to look at her 
like that again and demand that he make good on what she 
saw in those bedroom eyes of his.

Schofield noticed the woman beside him scan the crowd.

"How's the case going, any breakthroughs - well, that you 
can talk about at least."

"I'm sorry Dr Schofield, I can't, not that this stage."

"Neil."

"I'm sorry?"

"I hope we've at least progressed to a first name basis 
by now," he chided.

"Neil. Right. Yes, I suppose we have."

"Thank you Dana."

The sound of Scully's first name sounded strange to her 
ears, although she couldn't understand why. But the 
mystery of it vanished as the band returned to the stage 
and played the introduction to another fast dance.

The caller announced it as the final set of the evening. 
Half a dozen eager, although somewhat tipsy couples 
immediately took their positions on the dance floor.

"Would you care to dance, Dana?" Schofield asked as he 
stood offering his hand.

Scully pondered her half empty glass. "Mulder will be 
back soon."

"Then he can have the next dance."

Unable to think of a reason to decline tactfully, Scully 
slowly stood, allowing Schofield to take her hand and 
lead her to the floor. 

After quickly mastering the steps, Scully found she was 
enjoying herself immensely. She had found her second wind 
and so threw herself into the dance.

****

Mulder started back towards marquee in no particular 
hurry, pausing for a second to stretch his arms and take 
a deep breath to wake himself. As his lungs filled he 
tasted a stronger tang of brine evident in the air as a 
westerly breeze stirred.

There'll be rain before morning, perhaps even a storm.

The entertainers had finished for the evening and a 
number of partygoers had already made moves to depart, 
leaving the ground surrounding the marquee filled with 
small pockets of people talking, smoking and drinking 
quietly in groups. 

Darker two headed shadows of couples intertwined were 
heading further away from the torch and lamplight towards 
the dense rain forest covering of the adjoining national 
park.

A flash of blonde hair caught Mulder's attention as its 
owner walked past a spirit lamp.

Becky walked purposefully along one edge of the marquee, 
avoiding the guy ropes before turning a corner and 
disappearing. She was wearing an apple green gown with an 
elaborate ruffled neckline that stretched off the 
shoulders. Mulder allowed himself the advantage of the 
long shadows and set out at a jog to trail her.

She was heading towards the car park when he caught up to 
her.

"I want to talk to you," he whispered in her ear. He put 
his arm around a bare shoulder, bringing her tight up 
against his side. Mulder steered her off the path into 
the dark spindly Norfolk pine forest.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Becky enquired 
huskily.

Mulder stopped abruptly and spun her to face him, his 
hand gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Let me show you what I want."

Mulder kissed her savagely, pushing her back against a 
tree, invading her mouth with his tongue before she could 
react.

Becky demonstrated her approval at his aggression by 
pressing herself against him and kissing him back 
thoroughly. Her arms twined from his hips to his back. 

Mulder responded in one swift motion, shoving away her 
arms and capturing both hands.

"No." he growled. "This time I'm in control."

END OF PART XII


PART XIII

Cook's Point
Convicts and Colonial Party
12.30am

Three swift dances in succession and one and a half mugs 
of beer was making Scully's head spin, so she readily 
agreed to sit down when Schofield suggested an 
intermission.

"As soon as I catch my breath I'm going to look for 
Mulder," she announced to him, almost daring him to argue 
with her.

"That's probably not a bad idea, but you may as well 
finish the beer before we go look for him," he suggested, 
taking a swallow from his own.

"I'm his partner, I'm supposed to cover his back," she 
offered.

Schofield nodded. "While you finish the drink, I'll ask 
if anyone has seen him."

He called out to a dark haired man in his late 30s, his 
handsomeness somewhat dulled by the softness caused by 
too much beer consumption. He was dressed in a prison 
uniform of loose white pants, white long sleeve shirt 
painted with black arrows.

"Hey Mirror, have you seen that FBI agent Mulder?"

The man walk toward them, he shook his head but grinned 
wolfishly when he realised that Scully had caught him 
staring at her cleavage.

"Not for about half an hour of so Mike. He was outside 
when I last saw him. But I did see what's-his-name the 
Australian... Parker?"

"Porter," Scully corrected.

"Yeah Porter, that's it. Maybe the Yank is with him."

Mirror jumped, having been pinched on the ass by a 
voluptuous woman whose quite ample bosom wobbled 
precariously over her low cut blouse. He followed his 
admirer leaving Scully and Schofield on their own again.

"Neil? Why did you call that man Mirror," she asked.

"Watch him, he'll be checking himself out on any shiny 
surface. He thinks he's a ladies man - but he may love 
himself more," Schofield chuckled.

"So why did he call you Mike?" Scully's eyes started to 
narrow.

"There's no great secret, just about everyone has a 
nickname they're known by here," he shrugged.

"As a kid I always wanted to be a doctor and as soon as I 
got my first chemistry set my microscope and I were 
inseparable, so by the age of 13 I was known as Mike.

"I actually prefer it to my real name, but sadly, I've 
just managed to persuade you to call me Neil."

Scully smiled broadly. "Mike suits you. I think I like 
Mike."

****

Becky sighed with pleasure as Mulder's mouth left hers 
and travelled across her cheek and neck. 

He pressed Becky harder against the tree, her breasts 
squashed flat against the hardness of his chest. He still 
had her arms pinned behind the trunk.

Mulder returned to her mouth again with renewed ferocity. 
Becky murmured words of encouragement. His hands slipped 
lower until one hand captured both wrists.

The spare hand dipped into his coat pocket and returned 
with handcuffs which were put to use on Becky's wrists.

"Hmmmm," she whispered, grinding herself against his 
groin. "I think I like you a lot."

Mulder jumped back as if scalded, putting two feet 
between himself and the woman he had just arrested. He 
bent at the waist fighting the cramp in his lungs, 
gasping against the humid evening air. This is what a 
heart attack must feel like, he thought wearily. 

"Your turn to talk Becky," he gasped. "What the hell's 
going on?"

"What? What the hell are you doing Mulder?" Panic 
replaced passion on her face.

"I'm taking back control."

"You sonofabitch."

"Now, now, that kind of language will get you nowhere," 
he mocked. 

And then, more gently: "It's over Becky. We have it 
pretty much pieced together. We know that Wendy had a 
severe reaction and went into convulsions. She was making 
a private fetish flick with Sylvie and another man.

Becky lowered her head and slumped against the tree.

"I wasn't there, you have to believe me. I only found out 
in the morning, when Thommo got the call. After he left 
Sylvie shows up, gives me the tape and begs me to destroy 
it," she answered softly.

"Then everything got crazy and I just hid it where Shaun 
puts all of his outtakes. I never even looked at it. I 
couldn't.

"I just figured I could go back to get it when things 
went back to normal. But they never did."

Mulder's hands burned with pins and needles. He stuck him 
in his pockets to hide the tremors. He mustered his 
strength and stood upright.

"Who was the man filmed with Wendy and Sylvie. Was it 
Davenport?"

Becky shook her head.

"Mulder!" 

Mulder turned to see Jack Porter emerging through the 
scrub. Thommo followed behind him.

Becky saw them both and groaned, turning her head away 
from the man whom she betrayed.

Thommo pulled up short and stopped. 

The officer glanced at the two agents. It was far worse 
than he imagined. He wanted to thow up.

"I'm going back to the car," he bit out. "Call me when 
you're done."

He didn't trust himself to look back at Becky. He turned, 
shoulders slumped and disappeared into the blackness. 

"You okay?" enquired Porter quietly turning to Mulder.

"Just peachy."

******

"I need to get out of here," Scully whispered urgently, 
fighting the wave of dizziness that caused her to clutch 
a marquee post for support. 

The medical professional in her took a quick inventory 
and wasn't happy with what it found. Lethargy washed 
through her and she wasn't sure if she could support her 
own weight.

Neil, Mike, Schofield... Scully couldn't quite remember 
what his name was supposed to be. Whoever he was looked 
at her with the appropriate degree of concern.

"You don't look too flash. I think we'd better go outside 
for some fresh air."

Scully nodded finding it difficult to muster the energy 
to more fully respond. Mike held Scully at the waist and 
slowly walked her outside.

The air was thick with moisture and the stars that greeted 
the evening had disappeared under the first whisps of 
cloud heralding the upcoming storm that  was still out to 
sea but whose fanfare could be seen in the sheet 
lightening and heard in the rolling thunder.

Mike lead her away from the madding crowd to the far side 
of the clearing towards the edge of the rain forest.

Part of her mind rebelled at being man handled. Scully 
hated it or at least she thought she should hate it. 

No, she did hate it, if it wasn't Mulder. It was a dirty 
little secret - Scully liked the way his hand rested on 
the small of her back, the way he leaned in far closer 
than necessary to talk to her. Almost like he wanted to 
kiss her.

Scully wanted him to kiss her very, very much but she 
struggled with the words. Over six years whenever she 
mustered the courage to hint at more Mulder would make a 
joke, put himself in hospital or otherwise do something 
to make her angry and the moment would evaporate.

She was beginning to think it was personal. Dammit no 
more.

"I want you to kiss me now." And she was obliged. The 
kiss was nice but different to what she thought and a 
frission of disappointment rattled through her.

It was better that she didn't open her eyes but she 
wished that she could stop walking and just sit and clear 
her head of the cotton wool that settled thickly across 
her senses.

Scully was too tired to express her thoughts and so was 
delighted when she was eased onto some grass.

"Mulder?"

"Shhhhh," came in response and its lips claimed hers 
again. 

They could have been kissing for a few seconds or a 
couple of hours, Scully couldn't tell. Now she was only 
concious of her dress slipping down her shoulders and the 
cool breeze across her exposed breasts.

She shivered but the lips were there adding mositure and 
warmth. She moved close to the warmth until her body was 
sharing the heat of the other.

"Dana," his voice whispered gently at her ear, words 
matching a touch which ran along the length of her leg.

Dana? Mulder never called her Dana unless she was hurt, 
or he was teasing her. 

Scully forced her eyes open.

Mike smiled and rolled his weight on top of her.

********

"There's something you should know about Becky here," 
Porter spoke urgently

"She set you up and was instructed by Birch to set up 
another 'encounter' tonight. It's about damaging your 
reputation - particularly with your arsehole boss back in 
the States."

Porter nodded over at Becky raised his voice for her to 
hear.

"Birch is in custody and I think he'll tell us the full 
story in the morning.

"He's undergoing treatment for minor injuries sustained 
while resisting arrest," he finished flatly.

Mulder caught friend's eyes and held the look for a 
second before noddingly slowly.

"I have a preliminary statement from Sylvie and 
Davenport. It's as you and Scully suspected. After 
Wendy's seizure they tried to dump her body off the 
rubbish dump into the water but she momentarily revived, 
they panicked and stabbed her.

"Curious thing though, Davenport maintains he wasn't the 
guy in the video and Sylvie's no use, she's so hysterical 
she's been hospitalised."

Mulder turned to Becky who was beginning to softly weep.

"You know don't you?"

"Wendy was dead, they were supposed to stay calm until 
they could decide what to do with her, but Rob showed up 
at the hospital," she rushed, her pretty features marred 
by thin streaks of black mascara.

"It was Mike. Mike was there."

Jack nodded. "According to Davenport, it was Dr Schofield 
who told him that Wendy had the seizure."

"Mike is Neil Schofield?" Mulder was incredulous.

"I've only just found out myself."

"Scully's with him now." 

"Mulder?" Becky broke in, her voice thin and reedy. 
"You'd better go, he has a thing for your partner."

Scenarios cycled through Mulder's mind like a rapid-fire 
slide show and all of them ended badly. He glanced behind 
him where the lights surrouning the marquee glowed above 
the forest. 

"I gotta go." 

*****


Adrenalin surged through Scully, banishing her stupor to 
the far recesses of her brain. Survival mode switched on 
intuitively.

The heel of her hand connected with the bottom of her 
assailant's chin at the same time her knee found its mark 
between his legs.

Lightning illuminated the writhing man as he howled but 
the cry was lost against the sound of accompanying 
thunder.

In her head she could hear the sound of men on horseback 
approaching and it wasn't safe to stay. She had to find 
somewhere safe to hide until William could find her.

Blinking into the sudden darkness, Scully followed her 
instinct and ran further into the forest chased by rain 
of the now breaking storm. 

END PART XIII


PART XIV
Cook's Point
National Park
1.15am

Mike accepted the hand that appeared in front of him and 
allow it to haul him to his feet.

And despite the slick of the rain the hand wouldn't let 
go and the grip was painfully tight. He raised his head 
to confront its owner.

"Where is she?"

Mike shook his head and was rewarded with a right cross 
to the side of his head.

"Not good enough!"

He flinched for another blow. It never came. The hand 
that pulled him up dropped him back to the ground.

"Mulder!"

The doctor wiped his face clear of water and watched the 
American man turn to Porter who had just joined him.

"I've got to find her Jack..." he warned.

"You heard the man Schofield, where's Agent Scully? A 
quick answer is a good answer because if Mulder here 
wants to take another swing I'm not going to stop him."

"I don't know! She kneed me in the gonads and took off."

 Mulder wrenched the shorter man to his feet and patted 
his pockets as Porter cuffed him.

Mulder fingers closed on a small open vial. He sniffed 
it. The few remaining drops inside were colourless and 
odorless.

"Rohypnol?" asked Porter

"Gamma hydroxybutyrate - GHB," admitted Mike.

Mulder lunged, gripping him by the collar. "How much did 
you slip her you sonofabitch?" 

"No more than three grams, I swear!"

"Go after her Mulder, I've got him."


The heavier the rain - the higher Mulder's anxiety, but 
he trudged further into the forest, slipping occasionally 
on slick, wet leaf litter.

He'd read about the effects of Gamma hydroxybutyrate. 

Although favoured as a mood enhancer by some young 
nightclubbers along with Ecstacy, its properties also 
made it one of the most prevalent date rape drugs - 
surpassing even Rohypnol in use.

Mulder mentally ran through a catalogue of less pleasant 
side effects.

'Consumption of 1 to 2 grams causes a strong feeling of 
relaxation and slows the heart rate and respiration. At 
this dosage level, GHB also interferes with blood 
circulation, motor coordination, and balance. 

In stronger doses, 2 to 4 grams, pronounced interference 
with motor and speech control occurs. A coma-like sleep 
may be induced, requiring intubation to wake the user. 
When mixed with alcohol, the depressant effects of GHB 
are enhanced. This can lead to respiratory depression, 
unconsciousness, coma, and overdose.

Side effects associated with GHB may include nausea, 
vomiting, delusions, depression, vertigo, hallucinations, 
seizures, respiratory distress, loss of consciousness, 
slowed heart rate, lowered blood pressure, amnesia, and 
coma.'

Mulder grimly marched on, calling his partner's name, 
hoping she could remain conscious long enough for him to 
find her.

******

The tall figure blocked the light. Katie looked up at the 
captain from her seated position at the edge of the creek 
where she dangled her ankles; her pale skirt gathered to 
her knees.

"I do not know whether I should be talking to you," she 
said turning to watch the sunlight dance patterns on her 
submerged feet.

"And why not?"

"I do not trust you, captain."

"Call me William."

"I do not trust you, William."

Captain William Mulder laughed, unbuckling and dropping 
his sword and pistol. He lay carelessly beside the petite 
red head and stroked her arm. She looked at him sharply.

"The irony. I am a guard and you are a convict."

"Which is even more reason not to trust you. Especially 
since you do not trust me in return."

"And yet you are here."

"And yet I am here," she sighed.

"So why are you here, sitting all alone with a man you do 
not trust?" 

Katie pulled her feet out of the water. She noticed they 
were pale and wrinkled from the soak. 

Tears she had promised herself not to reveal welled 
unbidden anyway. Her answer came at whisper.

"Because I have no one else to trust."

*****

Scully awoke with a start, her lashes wet with tears. She 
wiped her face and breathed deeply. The early morning was 
black and silent.

Out of habit she reached towards the centre of the bed. 

It was cold and vacant. So was she.

Dropping back onto the pillow, she sighed to no one and 
squeezed her eyes shut willing the pain in her sola 
plexus to ease.

She forced her eyes shut before willing another deep breath to 
stop her from crying aloud.

Then the matress dipped beside her and a warm strong arm 
drew her close.

"Shhhh, you're safe now," a beloved, familiar voice whispered in 
her ear. 


*****


"We cannot keep doing this Katie," sighed William as he 
rolled on to his back. The sea breeze flooded his open 
shirt cooling him.

"You have to let yourself believe."

"I believe plenty," Katie replied stridently, 
concentrating her attention on tying up the loose stays 
of her bodice and straightening her clothing.

"You believe in your strength and your wit. It's got you 
through this far but you have to trust someone else. 

"Look at me."

Katie hesitated for a moment before giving him a direct 
look. William smiled. It wasn't returned.

"You couldn't save me from what happened before," she 
whispered. "And you cannot save me from what's out there 
now."

"I'm not a white knight that can save the damsel in 
distress. I'm just a man trying to uphold the law and to 
know the truth."

"I know the truth. What I want is justice."

William looked down and reached for his dagger.

"I want your trust."

He sliced his palm. Katie's eyes widened.

"I can't do it without you, I don't know if I want to. 

"Do I have your trust Katie?"

She nodded silently.

Swiftly he grabbed her left hand and drew a line with the 
dagger point. She hissed in surprise as the cut bloomed 
red. The sting dissolved completely as his much larger 
hand engulfed hers.

"We are one now, a blood covenant more thorough than a 
vow before a priest, we are bound forever.

"Do you believe me?"

Tears flowed freely down Katie's face.

"I want to believe."


*****


Sydney International Airport
November 10
8.45am

Porter hugged Scully longer than approprate for a just a 
mere acquaintance. Mulder wasn't sure he liked that 
especially since she seemed to be enjoying it.

Jack knew it too and answered his friend's look with a 
knowing grin before breaking away and shaking Mulder's 
hand warmly.

"Twelve years is too bloody long between drinks," he 
said.

"Too long," Mulder affirmed. "Since you've discovered 
where the airport is, it's your turn to spend 24 hours 
cramped in economy class."

"Cheapskate. I'll see you in first class."

"Oh no you won't," Scully chimed in, answering the raise 
of Mulder's eyebrows with a smile.

The final call for boarding crackled over the PA and 
Mulder and Scully followed the line of passengers down 
the ramp.

"Do you believe in reincarnation Scully?"

She snorted. "What do you think?"

"Well, what about dreams then? The very, very vivid dreams?"

"I remember you telling me once that dreams are answers 
to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask," 
answered Scully as she settled down into her seat.

"Do you believe two people can share dreams?"

"Sure, I suppose people who are close share a common 
purpose that can be said to..."

"No, no. I mean actually dream the same dream."

Scully shifted to face him.

"Dreams are caused by the subconscious accessing various 
memory centres. 

"Sometimes it creates a narrative that is useful in 
problem solving so I guess it's not inconceivable for 
people who have shared the same experiences to have 
similar dreams. But they can't be the exactly same 
because each individal is also drawing on unique 
experiences."

Mulder looked at her as is memorising her features for 
future reference. Scully blushed and dropped her head.

He leaned in closer and whispered close to her ear.

"I knew where to find you. A cave I couldn't know existed 
and I knew you were there because you told me about it."

His partner raised her eyes in surprise.

"You might not be ready to admit to it, but I think you 
know it's the truth. You've had these dreams too."

Scully shivered and opened her mouth wordlessly.

Mulder placed a finger on her lips.

"Don't say anything now, just think about it. We'll talk 
about it when we get home.

"I promise."

Scully nodded and as the aircraft taxied Mulder settled 
back into his seat scratching the centre of his palm 
absently. 

For some strange reason it itched brutally.

THE END

Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed Body Of Evidence. I 
wanted to write a real MSR love scene but those two 
characters had a mind of their own. I was always 
intrigued by the push and pull complexity of the 
relationship between Mulder and Scully and I hope I've 
managed to capture some of it. I also wanted an 
explanation between Mulder's relationship with Diana and 
why he would choose to believe his ex-lover over his 
present partner. After the events of Two Fathers/One Son, 
leading into Arcadia, I also wanted to have an 
explanation for Mulder's 'spooning like baby cats' 
comment and the scene where Mulder looks comfortable on 
the Petrie's bed and the most logical conclusion was that 
they had done it before. Please forgive any medical 
leaps. I just make the story up as I go along. I would 
love feedback. I can be reached at nick_nora_charles-at-
yahoo.com.au