Dumnezeu permite razbunare (1/30) by Bonkersfm E-MAIL: bonkersfm@yahoo.com CLASSIFICATION: MSR casefile SUMMARY: When Mulder starts profiling again, Scully mysteriously disappears. When she is discovered it's a race against time to unravel the events that have taken place, to save the lives of others and salvage a relationship in the balance. RATING: NC-17 SPOILERS: IWTB ARCHIVE: Yes just e-mail me please DISCLAIMERS: Not mine and making no money Chapter 1 "I swear, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help me God." "Mr. Mulder, you've worked hard for the prosecution in this case. You were drafted in as a profiler is that right?" Defence lawyer Sam Mortenson eyes him carefully, sizing up his opponent. The man on the stand nodded, feeling suffocated, unaccustomed to the confines of a suit these days. He'd even cut his hair on the insistence of his common law wife, who knew the cameras would be rolling during this high profile case. " And what conclusions did you come to Mr. Mulder?" He coughed before he began, carefully thinking over his words as he went. "I knew we were looking for a middle aged man, who knew the area. He would be a quiet man, unnoticeable until he flared up, volatile under pressure. He would have had an estranged relationship with his mother, if any real relationship at all. He might have been married before, although this most likely ended badly." "I'm sure you know Mr. Mulder that your profile had significant bearing on bringing Tony White to court…" "There's the overwhelming physical evidence too, the evidence that places him at the scene and in those prostitutes…" Mulder interrupted, agitated that the defence would try to dismiss such evidence. "We've heard Mr. White's testimony Mr. Mulder. He states that this evidence is circumstantial and would not have been found without your generalised profile." "Objection!" District Attorney Johnson stood at once. "If the defence is implying that the witness is not accredited in profiling then maybe he needs to…" "Your honour, I am merely painting a fuller picture of the importance of incidental evidence in this case." The judge eyed them both, unimpressed by the scene they were making in front of an audience of millions. He must call this right or be ridiculed. "Mr. Mortenson, Mr. Mulder's profiling skills are not being called into question here. Please proceed with care." Mortenson held up his hand in defeat. He retreated, thinking carefully about his next line of enquiry. "Mr. Mulder, isn't it true that whilst your profile may be absolutely correct, that it applies to millions of men throughout America? Would it also be the profile of the majority of men who visit prostitutes?" "It could be," He remained calm this time, sure of his answer with which to return fire, "although the semen of millions of men was not found at the crime scenes. Millions of men's skin was not found underneath the fingernails of two of those murdered women." District Attorney was no slouch when it came to tequila. Five, six nearly seven shots lined up in front of Mulder and suddenly the room seemed so much smaller. Mulder had lived a solitary life even before he and Scully had moved to Virginia, keeping to his small circle of friends and rarely drinking with groups of colleagues. These were men's men, celebrating six months of painstaking investigation when finally they had called upon Mulder to get inside Tony White's head. He had been surprised to be called as a witness, even more so when it was the defence who wanted him, merely to rip him apart. They hadn't done their homework that well, no mention of spooky Mulder anywhere. Televisions blared in the background, flashing images of outside the courthouse that day that had started too early and now finished too late. He sat a little away from the others, closed his eyes and allowing Johnson's distant voice to wash over him, half listening to his past exploits and half letting his mind wander onto better things. Speaking of which, he saw through half closed eyes a much better thing just walked through the door and made her way toward him. "I was about to give up on you." He reached his hand forward to take hers. "Its past eleven you know." "Well I could leave you here?" She answered, picking up the empty tequila shot glass. "With your buddies?" She had watched much of the case previous to Mulder's testimony and held apprehensions about his appearance. The selfish part of her liked the anonymity they had in Virginia. Going on TV seemed, to her at least, to make them vulnerable again to the monsters of the dark that would surely come intruding into their lives before too long. The not so selfish part of her was relieved that Mulder had something else to do. His socialisation had been severely limited during their first few years here, but now with his profiling for Skinner and connections with VCU his brain seemed sated again. "How did you know where I was?" His eyes felt heavy once more, as if weights pressed upon the lids, relieving the fatigue when he gave in. "I called at Johnson's office. Apparently they come here after every case they win." "Hey buddy." Johnson stepped up behind Scully, getting Mulder's attention. "If it's women you want there are much better places then this we can go." Mulder laughed snaking an arm around her waist. "District Attorney Johnson this is my wife Dana Scully." Now Johnson looked embarrassed. He held out a hand to Scully. "Apologies ma'am, I don't recall seeing a wedding band I just presumed…" "Oh we're not married." She interrupted, giving Mulder the playful look she usually reserved for just them. Johnson looked confused now, and quickly offered to buy her a drink. She refused, explaining that she had merely come to pick up her TV star husband before he ran off with Gill from channel six weather. The location of the trial had meant an early morning commute and a one-night stay over, courtesy of New York City. "How did you manage to swing the day off with Father Ybarra?" Mulder asked, flopping down on the bed, exaggerating his fatigue somewhat. Scully, who had been emptying vanity products from her purse, gave a confused look. "I haven't," she replied. "We need to leave here in about eight hours so that I can get back for the late shift." "Graveyard?" He felt disappointed. She didn't often have to do the night shift, but when she did he often ended up sleeping on the sofa and catching the zee's when she returned. Beds were for two people. "Don't call it that…" she replied. "It was the only way I could get down here to see you. I have two more to do too, kind of a penance for last minute time off." She stripped down to her underwear and lay down beside him on top of the covers. "The things you do for the ones you love huh?" He said, leaning over and tugging at the waistband of the boxers she wore. She rolled her eyes and flipped back the covers, sliding underneath. "I'm afraid that's about all I do for the one I love tonight." She cupped his cheek with her hand and held his face still for a goodnight kiss. "You did good today Mulder, they'd have never found him if it weren't for you." He closed his eyes momentarily, before getting under the covers and wrapping himself around her in gratitude of the sacrifice she had made to be with him. To others it would seem a futile journey for the sake of a free night in the city, but he knew the real reason why she had driven six hours to be with him, sacrificing two of her nights away from work. She'd done it to make sure he was okay. She knew how Tony White had crawled into his brain and etched a permanent reminder in the form of mutilated bodies. He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her towards him. "Thank you." He whispered, closing his eyes and revelling in the acknowledgement that came when a hand reached up to clasp his.