r6-Nicole-p2

Fairfax, Virginia
Wednesday, December 1, 1999
8:30 p.m.

The ride back to the safe house was silent, until Skinner turned his gaze to his troubled agent. Instead of telling Fox that it would be okay, he appealed to Mulder's intellect. "Tell me what you know of gargoyles. How do we defeat them?"

Mulder seemed to be prepared to remain silent, but after a moment he took in a deep breath. "According to legend...one legend anyway, a gargoyle cannot remain animate on holy ground. They are forced to stone no matter the time of day."

"No matter what? They can never...do what we saw Marco do in that jail cell? Never?"

Mulder bit his lip, worrying it until Skinner reached out a hand and stopped him. Mulder smiled a bit. "There is the story of a church in Northern England, in a little shire on the lowlands, on the border of Scotland in the fifteenth century. There were incidents where the locals reported seeing monsters in the night, monsters that came in the night, taking away the young men and women. They found the bodies, naked and with gaping wounds on the back of the skulls. Of course history explains that as being Highlanders coming down to cause havoc with the English...nothing more."

"But what? What do you think?"

"During that time the church was run by a young priest who was later burned at the stake for worshipping the devil...again history has its own explanation, but it is incontrovertible that he was burned. It was an enormous scandal, the burning of a priest. Most small churches, humble houses of worship, didn't have the ornate grandeur of their city cousins."

Skinner smiled at the dry tone in Mulder's voice.

"But this church had several stone gargoyle's on the roof, one for each corner. They had been there long before the priest had taken over the responsibility of the shire's eternal life. According to legend, the gargoyles disappeared sometime during the accusations leveled at the priest."

"What happened? I thought you just said that gargoyles couldn't animate on sacred ground? What could be more sacred than a church?"

"Right, but if a priest, a priest who was evil, did something, had some sort of black mass inside the church..."

"It wouldn't be sacred anymore," Skinner finished.

"And the gargoyles could animate." Mulder looked pale in the dashboard lights.

"But what I don't understand, is why a gargoyle would alight on a church at all. They would know wouldn't they?"

"Maybe they start out as stone, I don't know...I just don't know enough," Mulder sighed.

"Wait, don't get frustrated, Fox. We have a lot more information now then we had even yesterday. If what you're saying is true, then we simply need to somehow lure them onto sacred ground..."

"Oh that is simple," Mulder said sarcastically. "We'll just say, 'here gargoyle...c'mon big boy,' yeah that is simple."

Skinner pulled up to the safe house and turned off the engine, holding Mulder's arm when his agent would have immediately stepped out of the car. "These creatures are arrogant, Mulder, from what I saw, Marco was completely contemptuous of us, of our attempts to restrain him. His nephew Armando might even be more so. Certainly they both seem to think you belong to them in some way."

Mulder looked into the strong face, "Yes, but I don't see how that helps us? They wouldn't follow me onto sacred ground."

Skinner shook his head, "They wouldn't follow you onto what they *knew* to be sacred ground. What if we somehow create sacred ground...get a priest to bless someplace...I don't know, a room, something. When either of them come in, they will turn to stone...then we just wait until daylight and move them somewhere...a church...anywhere."

Mulder thought about it. "It could work...*if* I'm right. If I'm wrong, Walter...I don't particularly care for the alternative." He shuddered but was drawn into Skinner's strong embrace. "But...what else is there to do?" He kissed Skinner's jaw. "I guess I'm the bait."

Skinner frowned. "I guess you are." He had the sudden urge to start up the car and just drive, drive until he had Fox far away from any danger. But, he knew Fox would never let him. His agent was made of sterner stuff than that.

"So, when do we do it?" Fox asked with a wry grimace.

"We don't have to do it at all if you are too..."

"No! You're right, this plan might just work...and really? What choice do we have?"

Skinner nodded. "I think we should move fast. There's no telling if the nephew...or indeed Marco himself followed us."

Fox nodded and stepped out of the car. "We should find a place near a church...somewhere that will enable us to easily transport them once they become stone," he advised as Skinner joined him on the pathway to the front door.

Skinner pulled out his cell phone, put a large hand on the small of Mulder's back and while he made the arrangements, Mulder tried to come to grips with the last few days. The whole of his life in the last ten years had been affected by that night so long ago. He had carried so much anger and resentment toward Patterson for the way he had treated him, but more anger at himself for allowing it to happen. Never once remembering that he had been involved in his very own X-File. Gargoyles? Shit, it would have to happen to him. He didn't want to think of that night in Mercy, tied to an alter, the sharp trace of one claw traveling a leisurely down his spine, down between his buttocks. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, still feeling the cool scratch of that claw teasing at his anus, the careful scrape of it. He resisted the urge to lean into Skinner. He had spent his life dealing with things on his own, standing on his own two feet, though it warmed him to have Skinner at his side, he refused to fall apart now.

"Okay, I need to get a team together and then we can get you to the old Wells Building. We have a chaplain on his way now...to do his...to do his thing...whatever that is. Purify it I guess. Once the team is assembled..."

"No team, Walter, these things may be cocky but they're not too stupid to smell a trap."

"Oh, forget it, Fox, you aren't going in alone."

"Yes, it is the best way. I mean if not, if you have a team there you might as well have a crane with a sign on it saying, 'Use to move Stone Gargoyle to sacred ground' it is too much."

"You think they won't think it odd that you just happen to go to a lonely warehouse all by yourself? That they won't sense it is a trap just on that?" Walter was frowning, his face a stony mask.

Fox ran a hand through his hair tiredly. "Yeah, they might think it *could* be a trap, but I'm guessing that without the Calvary there on stand-bye, they or at least one of them will risk it." He flushed a bit, realizing what he was saying. That they would think *he* was worth it.

"I don't like this," Skinner mumbled, but he had to concede that Mulder was probably right. "Why don't you try to get a little rest? I'll make sure the setup is done quickly then we can sit down and go over the plan."

Mulder nodded. He moved away from Skinner and didn't look back at his lover. If he did he might fling himself into the strong embrace and never want to let go.

***

Fairfax Virginia
Wednesday, December 1, 1999
9:45 p.m.

"Hey...you awake?"

Mulder turned, startled, from the window and smiled at Walter. "I never really was asleep. Just resting." He took a deep breath. "Is everything arranged?"

Walter strode to the window and gathered Mulder to him, kissing the sinfully soft lips. "I have a feeling that everything is going to go smoothly," he lied. "I think that you and I will be back in my condo before the night is over."

Mulder smiled, smoothing his cheek against Walter's. "And then?"

"And then I show you just how much I adore you," Walter promised, his voice husky with need and shaded with a worry his words had denied.

Mulder pulled away reluctantly. "Well then, let's get to it. I need to know the layout of this makeshift sacred place...I need to plan..."

"Okay, Fox...let's go into the kitchen. I have a map for you to study.

The two men made their way into the kitchen where three other agents sat around the table drinking coffee and talking quietly. They sat up sharply when Skinner entered the room with Mulder trailing behind him.

"Okay, Agent Mulder, this is the schematic drawing of the abandoned office space. Two levels, four exits," Skinner said gruffly. He tapped the map and Mulder bent over it. "The space is in a perfect location, only three miles from St. Theresa's. St. Theresa has an enormous cemetery and we are making arrangements already to donate two statues. We aren't letting anyone in on what the statues really are. We feel that the less people that know the less likely it will be that someone will get it in their head to steal them."

"And hope they never move them," Mulder sighed. At Walter's grim look Mulder nodded and studied the map. "Two sets of stairs...a side entrance and two back entrances."

"Yes, the back entrance to the left side of the building is a maintenance entrance," Agent Parker explained. He like the other two agents had worked a long time with AD Skinner. All three could be trusted to secrecy, something that was essential to Skinner's plan.

"Where is the...uh...blessed portion?" Mulder asked.

"Here and here," Agent Styne said, tapping at the back lobby and a large room on the second floor."

"Why upstairs?" Mulder asked. "Isn't that going to difficult to get them out once they turn to stone?"

"It is only a contingency cite, Fo...Agent Mulder," Skinner explained. "If for some reason you find yourself having to run upstairs you have a second chance...we aren't taking any chances. Another thing. If you can't get them in the sanctified area...or if it fails to turn them stone there are vents here and here. If you are unable to get past them, get upstairs and get into the vent. It leads to an outside opening which we have made sure is opened. A car will be at the end of the block. Run there and...."

"Wait. If this doesn't work, sir, I doubt that a plan including me diving into a ventilation shaft and running to a get away car is going to work. I'm sorry, but you saw what they are capable of," he said softly. "This has to work. It *has* to."

Skinner nodded. "Agreed. You'll be fitted with a hidden two-way radio, so we can keep in contact at all times. You won't be alone, Agent Mulder."

Mulder nodded, but it really wasn't much of a comfort. Mulder looked at the map once more. Despite his dismissal of it, he looked closely at the escape vent. It was in the same upper room that had been blessed so at least he wouldn't be running from room to room like some demented rabbit. He had visions of himself screeching to the monsters, "I'm late! I'm late!"

He looked up at the agents and then to his lover, "Okay, how do I get there?"

Skinner cleared his throat, "You are going to leave here, now. I think it best that we assume that at least one of the two gargoyles is watching this house so you should leave with a scene...hopefully you'll be able to get to the car and then make it to the building." He briefly gave Mulder directions to the office space while Mulder mentally prayed that he wasn't being watched. If he were then he'd never make it to the car. He thought of an alternative plan as he gathered his things. He went to the front door and Skinner tried to pull him back in. Surprised he stopped and frowned, but Skinner just shook him.

"You're crazy, Agent Mulder, you'll never find anything out on your own."

Mulder paused then realized Skinner was acting out the "scene" for the benefit of a possibly waiting monster. "I am going, sir! You can't stop me." He felt entirely foolish, but he hurried to the car and with a shaking hand he started the car. "God, if you're really there, please watch out for him," he whispered fervently and drove into the night.

He pulled out his cell phone and played out his hunch. He dialed his home number and waited for the

machine to pick up. He listened to his odd greeting and resolved to change it immediately if he got out of this mess alive. When the beep ushered in the space to record his message he began to speak, "Scully, I hope you're there...I can't find you anywhere. Listen to me carefully. I got a call from a contact...please be there, Scully. I'm going to the Wells building off of Pine and 23rd. I know you hate when I go off to abandoned building in the middle of the night, but this is important. If you get this message, meet me there." He hung up, breathing hard, suddenly sure that something had been in his apartment, waiting and listening in the dark. He sped up and made his way to the abandoned building.

***

Armando smiled darkly to himself. "Got yah now, baby." He ran one, long finger over the blinking light of Mulder's answering machine. His uncle might not think much of his stalking skills, but he had had a hunch that the sweet Fox would make a mistake and reveal himself. And he had. He changed from his human guise and became the hunter. Already he could taste Mulder's sweet flesh under his tongue. He wouldn't kill the pretty too quickly...wouldn't want to kill him at all, but he couldn't leave him alive for his uncle to find out of his trespass. He would take him tonight there in the abandoned building and then, depending on the sweetness of the sex, he would take Fox somewhere to enjoy at his leisure. In the end he would tire of the pretty and need to cover his tracks, but he knew it would take weeks, if not months, to tire of the beauty.

He walked to the window, his heavy tread making the water in the fish tank sway and the glass left abandoned on the coffee table to tremble. He took to the night on leathery wings, grinning in delight.

***

Abandoned Office Building
Washington D.C.
Wednesday, December 1, 1999
11:30 p.m.

Mulder entered the dark building and shone his flashlight around. "Check, check, can you hear me?" he whispered.

"We read you, Agent Mulder. Proceed with caution," the voice of Agent Styne cautioned.

Mulder grimaced. "I'm moving to the rear of the building now."

'Be careful, Fox," Walter said, worry painting his words with a nearly breathless quality.

"As always," Mulder chuckled.

"God," was all Skinner groaned.

He had nearly made it to the back of the building, stepping over pieces of fallen plaster when the sound of breaking glass behind him startled him and he gasped aloud. He turned to see the creature caught in the steady beam of his flashlight, lumbering toward him, shaking off glass and grinning wildly.

"What is it?" Walter hissed, but Mulder said nothing. His eyes were caught in the gleam of the gargoyle's and he let out a ragged breath.

This gargoyle was smaller than the one in the jail cell. Armando. Even as he thought it, the creature began to turn into the young man, the handsome visage sliding over the horrible mask.

"Fox, you have no idea how long I've waited for this moment. From the first time I saw you, so young and frightened...so incredibly edible." Armando smiled. "I can't believe I waited so long. I must admit, that I was afraid of my uncle. He wasn't about to share your sweet body."

Mulder backed away his eyes never leaving Armando's grinning, handsome face. "Why did you wait?" he asked, hoping to sound as calm as ever, but failing miserably.

"I guess I wanted to see the swan all grown. But, as lovely as you are, I still say you would have been sweet meat from the first. You were so ready for it. I know you were being taken advantage of by that stupid prick, but you knew how to spread your legs on command then, didn't you, pretty bitch?"

Mulder flushed, but said nothing, just kept backing away.

The gargoyle grinned. "Where are you going? There is no one here to help you. My uncle would never be as clever as I. I waited in your apartment and heard your stupid message to your partner." He laughed. "You led me right to you, pretty bitch. How smart do you feel now?"

Mulder shook his head, "Not very smart," he growled. "So what now? You rape me, then kill me?"

Armando shrugged. "I assure you, you will not be raped. You will want it so badly you will beg me. If you do it as well as I expect that you will, you will stay alive for as long as I get pleasure from your pretty body. You will learn to come up with many ways to please me in the hope of living that much longer." He smiled and looked up and down the lean frame. "You do please me just looking at you, my Fox. You will not die so soon I think."

Mulder shook his head, "Just kill me now, bastard. I am not going to play the whore for a few days of living. I think of death as a welcome end."

Armando shrugged and continued to come toward Mulder. "You will love every minute of playing my whore. Like you never loved being Patterson's." He sent out a tendril of thought and caressed Mulder's pleasure center, smiling lewdly as the agent stiffened in shock. A small moan escaped the full lips that had haunted his imagination. "Now you begin to understand, don't you, pretty Fox?"

Mulder shuddered as waves of pleasure coursed through his body; even his clothes brushing against him was a source of intense excitement.

"Now you see why are victims never flee to tell tales." Armando applied more teasing pressure to that delicate spot in the brain and Mulder's body shuddered in the most delicious way. Orgasming instantly, flushed and so incredibly lovely, his cheeks flushed and his mouth opened.

Mulder felt the orgasm hit before his brain could even register the excitement. His mind was warring with itself, he wanted to take off his clothes and run his hands through his own semen, he wanted to taste it, to lick it from his fingers. He swayed as another assault began.

"You should take off your clothes, baby, you want to touch yourself, don't you," Armando purred. Eager to see the agent naked, hard and wanton. He wanted to touch those lips. He moved close and reached out a hand, his finger sliding over the soft lower lip. "Suck my finger, while you undress, Fox," he hissed. A moan escaped him as Fox did as he was bidden and his finger was sucked into the agent's moist mouth. "Suck it," Armando commanded sending out another wave of pressure.

Mulder shuddered with pleasure his body hot. He sucked the finger as he struggled to remove his shirt. Armando's other hand moved to rub the wet bulge of Mulder's erection and he squeezed it hotly.

"Still want me to kill you, pretty bitch?" he taunted as Mulder rocked into his hand, sucking hard on his finger with mindless need.

"What in the hell is going on, Fox?"

The whisper in his ear startled Mulder and he felt a moment of dislocation, horrified to find himself humping against Armando's hand. He very nearly pulled away in disgust but he kept up the motions, terrified that he would lose his mind once again. The waves of pleasure were still affecting him, but a rational voice too was beginning to command him. Pleasure was nothing he needed from this thing...he whimpered convincingly and when Armando drew back and commanded him to strip he panted and tried to follow Armando's hand. He wanted to scream in fury at the triumphant smile on Armando's face.

"Strip and convince me to touch you, Fox," Armando purred, still convinced he controlled the situation.

Mulder backed away, seemingly reluctantly. "All right, I will...I promise," he sighed, trying to sound desperate. It wasn't hard. He was desperate. He knew that Armando could easily take over again if he knew he had lost control.

"What is going on? Fuck we are coming in," he heard Skinner growl.

"Oh no....no....no don't," Mulder moaned, making Skinner frown at the other end and Armando raise a perfectly groomed brow. "Don't just stare at me, please...take me...touch me..." Mulder covered quickly causing Armando to smile again. Just as Mulder began to feel a little pulse of pleasure once more he turned and sprinted for the back of the building. He prayed that the shock of it would keep Armando still for a few seconds. He skidded on the dusty tiles and veered left through the central hallway. The hallway was dim, but he could see the street lights illuminating the back lobby. He heard an angry roar behind him and then the shudder of heavy feet. He knew without looking that Armando had changed form and was coming after him with terrible fury.

He ran into the lobby, breathless and frightened, suddenly sure that the plan, the stupid, reckless plan would not work. That Armando would simply come into the room, grab him up and tear him apart. But a shriek sounded behind him and he spun around still stumbling backwards and away from the massive creature that pursued him. He watched in amazement as Armando tried to skid to a stop. He was screaming and shuddering. He spread out his wings and tried to claw at Mulder, but before Mulder's horrified eyes, he turned to stone, frozen with a mask of rage on his fanged face.

"Jesus oh Jesus," Mulder gasped.

"Mulder, talk to me right now god dammit!" Skinner demanded.

"It worked...oh...yeah...it worked all right. He's stone." He approached the stone figure almost reverently and touched the face...still warm. "Okay...okay. Sir, he's pretty much...uh immobilized."

"What in the hell happened to you?" Walter hissed. He had taken over the headphones when the crazy bastard, Armando had first begun to speak. He was thankful for that as soon as he heard Mulder's first groan of passion. He was still flushed and angry over the things he had heard. "What did he do?"

"Oh just a little touch and wiggle," Mulder drawled, his voice deceptively nonchalant.

"Jesus, Mulder, I thought I lost you there."

"Yeah, well me too," Mulder sighed. "Something...something happened, but we can discuss it later over a long game of Monopoly."

"Mulder," Skinner threatened. "Just keep your head. There is still another one out there."

Mulder nodded. "I know."

"How in the hell are we going to get him to go there?"

Mulder shrugged even though he knew Skinner couldn't see it. "I don't think we do. Lightning never strikes in the same place twice." He said the words, but he had an ominous feeling that in this case it would. "I'm going to wait here for a bit and then we need to start thinking about phase two."

"Are you sure Armando is stone, that the blessed ground worked?" Skinner fretted. There was more of the lover in his voice than the strict AD and Mulder smiled.

"I'm positive...unless they turn to stone to play possum."

"Get serious, Agent," Skinner reprimanded.

"Yeah...okay, I'll just wander around here...take in the view, that kind of thing. Scully would love to work a little magic in this room. Must be wonderful with the morning light coming in just so..."

"Mulder!"

***

He smiled to himself and slowly let himself lift from the roof of the white surveillance van. He would come back later and kill the lover his Fox had chosen. So they thought to trap him on sacred ground. He would teach his little Fox how to trap a gargoyle. He had heard the entire exchange from the moment Fox had stepped into the building. He wouldn't rush into the trap, but he would go to the building and collect his property. For his trespass in trying to take what was his, Marco would leave Armando to his stone prison. A prison from which he could see and hear but not move within.

***

Mulder was still staring at Armando when he felt a presence. He was no longer alone in the abandoned building. The hairs rose on the nape of his neck. Every instinct in him told him that he should run, but he had never taken that particular advice before. The question was how did Marco find him? There was no way...no way he could have. He didn't know why he was so certain that Marco hadn't simply followed him to the building, but he knew he didn't. If he had, why would he have let Armando try to take him? It didn't make sense. And why wasn't he rushing in to claim him? Mulder breathed a shaky breath. Somehow Marco knew what was going on. But how much did he know? Mulder almost panicked, but he controlled himself with an effort. He ran a hand down Armando's cooling arm, tracing the sharp, stone claws. He could only hope that while Marco might have somehow known of the holy ground on the first floor that he was unaware of the second room above. Skinner's contingency plan.

For the benefit of his audience that he was sure lurked just beyond the shadows, in the long corridor he sighed, "What did you do to me, Armando? It was...lovely." He bit his lip and then with a loud dramatic sigh he made to move toward the shadows.

"Lovely?" Skinner barked, angry.

"Yes, I said lovely," Mulder replied, again for his audience, somehow knowing that Marco knew all about the surveillance, knowing it in his gut alone. "He did something, Walter, and maybe I liked it."

There was only a stunned silence in reply and Mulder hoped he would have the chance to explain his actions to his lover.

"I felt as if my whole body was...was somehow sexually charged."

"I see," Walter said slowly, the AD back in residence in the familiar voice.

Mulder saw the lurking shadow separate itself from the wall and he stumbled back a few steps in feigned shock. "Marco?" His voice was shaky, without any effort of acting on his part.

"Yes, Fox. I have come for you," Marco hissed from the darkness.

Mulder looked around as if for escape, even began to make his way to the back door, certain that Marco wouldn't follow into the room, certain that Marco would know that the room was blessed...even if he couldn't see the stone visage of his nephew.

He spun about abruptly. "Wait...wait, Marco, don't come in here...it's been blessed," he said quickly as if afraid that Marco would in fact follow him into the room.

"What in the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?" Skinner hissed.

Marco, who had no intention of stepping onto holy ground, was shocked by the pretty man's words of warning. He remained silent, eyes narrowed in confusion. He hadn't expected this.

Mulder made a show out of taking off the small receiver in his ear and tossing it to the floor. He stared into the shadows and held up his hands. "What did he do to me?" he whispered.

Marco shifted a bit from the wall, staring at the link to Fox's mortal lover, lying in the shadow of his nephew's feet.

"I...never felt so...so much pleasure. I want it again. Can you...can you...that is can we...shit what am I saying?" he groaned. Hoping he had sold what he had to sell he moved toward Marco. "Are you going to tell me? What is it that you want?" He licked his lips, a nervous gesture that he didn't need to plan as he approached the gargoyle towering above him. "I want it again.... do it to me, please...do it to me."

Marco ginned then. His beautiful Fox was so ripe, so ready for pleasure. He had known it all along, really. "With pleasure, little love, with pleasure."

"Oh yes, pleasure...please, quick before they come," Mulder whined moving to embrace the hard frame. He shuddered in disgust as Marco's clawed hands trailed excitedly up his back. He moaned as one talon sliced at the back of his pants. "Do it now...please." The talon slipped between his cheeks, finding his anus with practiced ease. He shuddered hard as it slid into him carefully, before being slowly withdrawn.

"No hurry, Fox, they can't take you from me," Marco boasted. He lifted him easily and brought the pretty face to his own and with cold lips caressed the side of Mulder's face, his cold, black tongue sliding over the mole. "So beautiful," he sighed, the sound a hiss over sharp fangs. Mulder's leg spread wide as the talon slid back in and out. "Oh, so lovely," he breathed. Taking Mulder would be as exciting s he had ever imagined. He would transform him into his pet. Take him away from mortality and death. He would make him a willing thrall. So willing that though he would not be a gargoyle and so made immobile by the sun, he would lay his lovely body at Marco's feet every day, anxious for the setting sun.

"I will make you immortal, sweet Fox. You won't be like me, but you'll never age. It is the reason I wanted to wait, precious. I didn't want an untried youth as my companion through the eons, no matter how ethereal you were.

Mulder didn't know what to make of that. He just moved his hips as the talon scraped at the tender flesh of his anus. Come on, Walter, Mulder thought desperately. Burst in with guns blazing. Not from the back, but from the front...force us upstairs. If they came from t he back, Marco would just take him through the front and the game would be lost. If they would but only come from the front Marco would have only one retreat...up the stairs. He knew that Marco would never flee in the face of armed men, but he would know that a stray bullet could kill Mulder, so it was Mulder's hope that the beast would take him upstairs, and from there plan to take to the night sky. Just then a wave of inutterable pleasure coursed through him and he didn't want Skinner to save him. He cried out with the intensity of it and felt himself close to orgasm once more.

"Like that, pretty?" Marco purred.

"Oh...oh yes...oh yes," Mulder panted.

"Think of me inside you, Fox...I've waited so long...so very long."

The sound of the front door slamming open and Walter Skinner shouting for him jolted Mulder out of his trance and he just wanted to go back in, he'd never felt such pleasure. "No," he cried. "No don't stop," he begged. Meaning it with every bit of himself. He wanted Marco, wanted to belong to him...for always...forever.

Marco made to put him down and Mulder knew that he was going to go kill Walter. That thought had the power to make him grab hold of Marco. "Don't go, don't leave me," he cried desperate to keep Marco from Walter. Despite his lust and confusion, he knew that he loved Walter, knew it deep inside.

"I'll be back as soon as I deal with your former lover," Marco said gently.

Mulder kept pace with the huge beast and gasped as he saw Walter and two agents. Parker and Styne, standing in the front foyer.

"Shoot at me," Mulder shouted, seeing Marco turn to him with a shocked fury. "Shoot me, but don't make me leave him," Mulder shouted. Dammit, Walter, get it...get what I want, he silently begged. "Shoot goddammit," he shouted furiously.

Marco whirled and grabbed Mulder into his strong arms. "They can't take you, love, hush now. I'll kill them first."

"Shoot," Mulder mouthed; suddenly sure Walter wouldn't do it. But Walter raised his gun and aimed it at Mulder's face. He pulled the trigger just as Marco flung Mulder behind him. With a furious roar Marco gathered Mulder up and raced up the stairs. He was stunned by the big human's deliberate attempt to harm his precious Fox. When he had Fox to safety the big man would know the true meaning of pain. Slice by slice he would shred the man to bits.

Mulder was still stunned that Walter had actually shot at him! He'd wanted him to, but he'd aimed right at his face. They were going to have a serious talk and that was that. Marco was charging past the conference room, the room that had been blessed when Mulder squirmed in his arms. "No, through here, there's a vent...a huge window...ways to get out." Oh God please let Marco go in the room. If he didn't, Mulder was certain he would never have another chance at escape. He was also certain that he would never *want* to escape. If it weren't for his fear for Skinner he wouldn't want to escape now. He'd let Marco know of the trap he had been led into and happily spend the next hundred years squirming on those talons and the huge erection he had felt against his belly as Marco had held him aloft.

There was a hail of bullets behind them and Marco tore down the door throwing Mulder inside. For a heart-stopping moment, Mulder was sure that Marco would turn and go to kill the men below, but he rushed in after Mulder, making the center of the room before he turned a startled face to Mulder.

"You...you tricked me," he hissed before he began to scream.

Mulder tripped and fell on his ass, watching Marco try to heave his way back out of the room, but his struggles were useless and with one last roar, he was stilled. Stone.

Mulder crawled to the feet of the statue and actually began to sob in regret. He tried to push at the stone gargoyle, hoping to get Marco out. It was insanity, but he was helpless to deny it.

Skinner skidded into the room and he bent over Mulder shuddering frame, pulling him away from the gargoyle and into his arms. "Hey, c'mon, baby, hush...c'mon you're okay."

"Help me move him," Mulder cried out.

"Shhh," Walter murmured in Mulder's hair.

The two agents outside the door took one look at their friend, Walter Skinner cradling the body of his agent and they discretely left them alone. Both of them were completely loyal to Walter, and not torture or the Attorney General herself could get them to repeat that they had seen the Assistant Director kissing Agent Mulder. Or calling him baby. Silently Styne and Parker made their way down the stairs.

Mulder sobbed out his anguish in Walter's arms. Anguish that he'd bottled up for so many years. Bitter tears that left a clean slate in their wake.

***

Epilogue
Martha's Vineyard
Friday, December 24, 1999
3:15 p.m.

Mulder was sitting on the beach of his youth. The sound of the surf from the Vineyard Sound lulled him. It was incredibly cold, but he waited just a few more minutes before getting up and walking toward the small cape style house that he and Walter were renting on Oyster Pond Road. The smells wafting from the kitchen made him smile. Nutmeg and cinnamon. His lover was certainly a gourmand.

"Is that pumpkin pie I smell," he asked as he entered through the crimson colored door.

"Yeah...can you come in and help me in a few minutes?"

Mulder ginned as Skinner's flour-streaked face peeped around the corner. "Yeah, of course, Martha, just let me catch a quick shower. I'm covered with sand."

"Been sitting on the beach again?" Walter asked, his voice measured and careful.

Mulder grinned. "Yes, but it's Christmas Eve and I am not going to spend another moment on reflection."

Walter smiled. Mulder did indeed look better than he had looked since the night both Marco and Armando had been cast in stone. Mulder had not been able to oversee the transport of the two stone gargoyles into the sanctified ground of St. Teresa's the following morning, but Skinner had. And even in the darkest parts of night the two gargoyles had remained stone on the hallowed ground. Still, the night had marked Mulder. And Skinner wasn't certain if Mulder was finally over it, and more importantly over what havoc Patterson had wreaked on his life.

"I'll be right back," Mulder promised and hurried up the narrow stairs. After a quick shower Mulder dressed in soft jeans and dove gray, knit sweater. He walked to the bed and bent to bring out the present he had purchased for Walter. The bulk of the gifts were already under the small tree, but this one had been his favorite. He intended to hide it in the branches of the tree. He closed his eyes and imagined the set of rings that nestled inside. Though he couldn't legally marry Walter, he wanted to do something to show the man how very much he loved him.

He knew that Walter was worried about him, and he had been a rather reclusive lover during their two-week vacation to the island. He smiled softly, thinking of the cold nights, warm in bed when he was anything but reclusive. He had been thankful for the howling winds at night, to cover the sounds that Walter's experienced hands and tongue elicited from his writhing body. The man could play Mulder's body like a maestro that was certain.

He would probably never forget the night Armando had made him, for that small amount of time, want to be once again in the position that Patterson had trained him for, but at least now it was in context. He wasn't that man any longer. He hadn't been for a very long time. He just had never let himself believe it. Patterson's influence on him had ended long before Armando had murdered him. What lingering shadows that resided within him, waking him from slumber, were the images of what he would have been without Marco's push to have him end things with Patterson. Today, on the beach, watching the cargo ships on Vineyard Sound, he had finally realized that it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was loved by a man he loved so well in return.

For so long he had felt as if parts of him were missing. Little pieces of his soul scattered by tragedy and pain. But Walter made him whole, made him aware too, that his wholeness was not at the whim of any other person, not even Walter's. He was no longer scattered in pieces along his past. He couldn't change the past, didn't need to anymore, but he could enjoy the present...and the future.

He stood and made his way to the stairs. He stopped and looked once more at the small gift box. "What the hell," he chuckled. "Why wait for Santa?" He jogged down the stairs and toward his future.

***

End of Pieces of Me