TITLE: Surfacing Chapter Nine: Blood Ties
AUTHOR: Chad Moore
FANDOM: XF
DATE: November 17th, 2001
SERIES: Dangerous Undercurrents and Conundrum
E-MAIL: Mulderholic@webtv.net
RATING: R (Chapter 9) for language and violence
CATEGORY: M/O
ARCHIVE: Yes, please
KEYWORDS: Slash, Romance, Angst, Adventure
WARNINGS: WIP
SPOILERS: This story takes place after "Existence," with references to past seasons.
DISCLAIMER: All familiar characters belong to CC, 1013 and Fox TV; any others were conceived in my warped imagination. Azathoth and the Great Old Ones are creations of H.P. Lovecraft and are now the property of Arkham House. No infringment intended.
EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS: To Goddess Michele, a true star.
BETA THANKS: Bertie
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains a few elements from the Wild Cards series of books, edited by George R.R. Martin.

---

Chapter Nine: Blood Ties

The questioning was over, thank goodness, Jamie thought as he absently let his fingers drift through the fringes of a table lamp. He felt jumpy and restless, the adrenaline pumping continuously through his veins.

With the genius one could expect, the local police had dismissed the attack as thieves caught in the act. Albeit thieves associated with satanic rituals. Well, they were half right.

Jamie watched Mulder's shoes crush a path into the deep sky blue carpet as he listened to the coroner's report. He nodded and made a few non-verbal sounds, leaving Jamie unsure whether this was good or bad. He tore his eyes away from his lover's feet and let his gaze wander across the room to the secured windows, and the extra lock fitted to the door.

"Well," Mulder sighed, turning off the cell phone. "It seems our friend died from a highly concentrated dose of atropa belladonna."

Squinting for a moment to remember, Jamie chimed in, "Nightshade?"

Mulder nodded and came to sit down beside him on the bed. "Yeah, this group is hard core." He looked down and saw his lover's hands shaking. "Jamie, I think--" he began, but Jamie stood up and started pacing before him.

"We still don't know who they are." His words came quick. "But whatever they have planned, I'm ready for them." He flexed his fingers, unconsciously forming fists. "Azathoth wants me again, well he has no idea who he's dealing with this time."

Mulder pursed his lips worriedly at the signs of Jamie's agitation. He knew his lover wasn't talking to him, he was trying to convince himself that he was invincible. Fox stood and carefully approached him, and Jamie nearly walked right into him.

"Jamie, that's what we're going to find out," he told him, gently. "The parasycholgist who contacted Skinner is on her way to D.C. even as we speak."

Folding his arms, Jamie exhaled. "And how exactly does that help us?"

"You're not going to like this, but we need to leave as soon as possible. Jamie, if we're going to learn all the facts behind this, what this coven wants, then we have to go."

Jamie ran both his hands through his hair. "That's just fine with me." Fox started to speak but Jamie's voice overrode his. "No, someone's after me and I don't want them around my family. When do we leave?"

"As soon as possible. I'll see if there's a flight open tomorrow morning."

"Good." He started to relax, which was a mistake, as Mulder burst into a feverish thought pattern.

"Once we get there I want to phone a few FBI contacts. There can't be that many cults out there who use nightshade." He took a breath. "Then, we'll rock 'n' roll on over to Walter's and..."

"Hey, can we just take this one thing at a time, huh?" Jamie tried to slow him down.

Mulder realized that he was getting a little too excited. It was almost like being back on the X-Files, with the deadly exception of the man he loved being in mortal danger.

"We can work it all out later," he agreed.

Jamie buried his face in his hands, and groaned.

Mulder glanced down at him. "What is it?"

"How am I ever going to tell my mom?" he wondered, suddenly feeling short of breath.

Mulder gave him a reasurring smile. No doubt Janine would pitch a fit about her son leaving. He felt a smirk coming on, with the thought that his lover would much rather face a cult than Janine. He reached out and tenderly slid his arms around Jamie's waist.

Jamie sighed deeply. "Mulder, I just wish..." he began. Then his voice trailed off.

"You wish what?" Fox pressed.

Jamie hesitated. "I wish things could be different. That I didn't have this curse hanging over my head," he said at last. "I'm gonna fight this, but the only thing that really scares me is that you could get hurt."

His green eyes pierced through the dimly lit room, into Mulder. He felt his heartbeat quicken. Over the past few hours he'd watched in admiration as Jamie managed to fight off three attackers, not let the truth kick the breath out of him and simultaneously demand both of himself and the fates surrounding them, some control of his life.

Mulder could not bear the thought that his lover was being hunted again. For what purpose he could only imagine, and those thoughts hung like a thunder cloud in his mind. Meantime, as he worried, Jamie was being strong for both of them.

"You're a fighter, Jamie," he said, "and I love that so much about you. You get knocked down and you pick yourself right back up again, and keep on swinging. Take it from me, it's a gift."

Jamie shook his head a little, his eyes beginning to pool. "No, you're my gift."

Mulder's smile lit his whole face. Jamie's whole body suddenly felt hot. "Kiss me before I pass out," he whispered in Fox's ear.

Mulder's right hand gently caressed Jamie's face, and then he pressed his lips to the other man's mouth. Jamie's tongue entered him so invitingly, and with such demanding lust and love, that it made Fox dizzy.

Jamie looped his arms around Mulder's neck, and hugged him tightly. His strong hands caressing the back of his neck, and then stroking through his short hair. He stopped suddenly, and smiled. "I won't let anyone hurt you Fox, I promise."

Mulder led him over to the bed, helped him to lie back on it, then joined him, pressing himself close.

"Do you trust me?" asked Jamie.

Fox answered with a kiss that sent them both spinning into heaven. He enwrapped Jamie in a demanding embrace and held him through the night.

*****

Jamie glanced at the clock: 4:13 AM. He couldn't sleep and his mouth felt dry. Careful not to wake Mulder, he eased out of bed and into the bathroom.

Turning on the tap, he ran his hands over his tired face. Jamie looked up in the mirror, gasped and shivered.

For a second Azathoth's thick black mist billowed up behind him.

Jamie quickly turned to look, but nothing was there.

*****

"You're leaving again?!" Janine's shrill voice cried all the way from upstairs.

Mulder cringed a little, knowing how hard this was for Jamie. He looked at his watch. He and Jamie needed to be in Atlanta in a couple of hours to catch the mid-morning flight to Virginia. After booking the flight, Mulder had packed while Jamie called his mother to meet him at Grams.

Courtesy of the local paper they all knew about the attack. However, Jamie had stuck with the police's false impression of breaking and entering.

Mulder glanced up the stairs, hoping that the three women in his lover's life were not going to give him any more of a hard time about leaving than he could stand.

*****

"What's the rush?" Janine demanded as Jamie flew by her in a flurry of activity. This is what she'd been afraid of: Jamie taking off again.

"Mulder has some important things to take care of and he asked me to go with him," Jamie quickly explained. He dumped a pile of clothes from the closet into a large suitcase sitting open on the bed.

"But does he have to spirit you away right now?" pressed Janine. Jamie involuntarily shivered at the word 'spirit.'

Janine watched his frenetic movements. She really could not fathom her son dropping everything for this man. "What, are you going off on a secret mission?" she asked, sarcastically. Jamie glared and kept packing. "Oh, I see," his mother added. "You're not going to tell us."

"Jamie, dear, is there anything we can do to help?" Grams asked, interceding between her daughter and grandson.

He paused to look at her. "No, Grams. Everything's going to be fine. This is just something I need to help take care of. You'll have to trust me on this. Can you do that?"

"Of course, darling."

"When will you be back?" his mother pressed.

"I'm not sure... soon," he replied, then thought to himself 'I hope.'

"I wish I could come with you," Peril offered, sincerely.

Janine jumped, preferring it if her niece were to accompany him. "Can't the club do without you just a little while longer?" she asked, believing that a waitress/singer wouldn't be missed.

"If I don't get back to San Francisco I won't have a job left."

"Knock 'em dead," Jamie said, as a way of saying he understood. He paused on reflection. "But not literally."

Peril came forward to help him straighten out the mess he was making. She could tell by the look in his eyes that her cousin was dealing with something major. She placed a hand on his arm as he closed the case. He looked up at her, prepared to defend his actions once again, and was startled by the look in her eye. "Please call." Was all she said.

Jamie finally glanced up at all three of them, and felt a lump in his throat. "Sure, you got it." He moved forward and hugged his mother, who gasped, surprised.

Standing back, Jamie told her, "Mom, I wish I could be the son you want me to be," he began, sadly.

Her face softened. "Jamie, no. Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself."

"I will."

Swiftly kissing and hugging them all good-bye, he tore downstairs to join Mulder. Janine watched his retreating back and sighed loudly. "That is typical Jamie," she observed.

Neither she nor Grams noticed the worried expression Peril wore. She'd worked out that the stranger looking for Mulder and last night's incident were related. Whatever her cousin was barging into, she only hoped he really could handle it.

*****

Walter came out of his kitchen carrying a glass of wine when he saw Alex descending the staircase and shaking his head.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"Oh, the doc up there," Alex replied, pointing the way he'd come. "She's a weird one, doesn't say much, just pours over all those books she brought."

Walter nodded knowingly, making a small noise of understanding. She and Mulder will be probably get along great, he thought. Doctor Angela Kitzseiger had arrived during the middle of the night, and at a rather inopportune time, with Krycek's mouth wrapped warmly around a certain part of his anatomy. She was not at all what Skinner had expected. And if her deep blush last night was any indication, they weren't exactly what she had expected either.

The light sound of the doorbell shook him from his thoughts. "That must be Mulder and Jamie," he said. "Here take this to the good doctor while I let them know what's going on," he added, handing Alex the glass.

Alex looked at it and smirked. Mulder would probably have a stroke when he found him residing in Skinner's apartment. Ah, what the hell, he thought, when haven't I done that to Mulder?

Waiting for Krycek to leave, Skinner squared his shoulders and opened the door. Both Mulder and Jamie looked as if they would collapse. "How was the flight?" he asked, concerned.

"A combination of too much turbulence, little sleep, and a Chevy Chase movie," Mulder replied dryly.

"Dr. Kitzseiger's been here since midnight," Walter explained, leading them through. "She arrived with her own library and she's been buried in books all night."

Jamie smirked, but it wasn't a happy expression. "Sounds like more fun than what happened to us."

"We were attacked last night," Mulder told Skinner.

"By this coven?"

Mulder opened his mouth to reply, but his breath caught in his throat.

"You and cults, Mulder. What's up with that?" Alex Krycek remarked as he nonchalantly sauntered back into the living room.

His appearance had the effect of a nuclear bomb going off in Mulder's gut, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. Jamie, by contrast, felt an enormous sense of relief to see his friend. "Alex!" he exclaimed.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Mulder demanded of Skinner. Walter braced himself. He momentarily wondered how many times the younger man had uttered that question, then wondered how often he'd gotten any sort of satisfactory answer.

Jamie looked between Alex and Mr. Skinner, and the pieces rapidly fell into place. "So this is your nurse?"

Alex actually blushed!

Walter turned back to Mulder, who stood seething on the spot. "Mulder, look, he needed someone to look after him," he began. "Plus, you were right about the phone tap. Alex found it."

"I'll bet. How do you know he's not helping them again?"

Krycek clenched his fists in frustration. "Oh yeah, I masterminded the entire plot," he snapped, sarcastically.

"I want him out of here!" Fox shouted, moving forward, ready to aim a punch at the other man's face. Jamie stepped in between them, one steady hand on Mulder's chest.

"C'mon boys! What's the matter with you? I don't know what went down between the two of you, but we've got enough against us without you two needing to take lumps out of each other."

His words prevented a clash but Fox continued to glower.

"Jamie's right," Walter spoke up, glancing with admiration at Mulder's lover. "Now do you want to tell us what happened last night?"

Jamie folded his arms and leaned against a corner wall. "A trio of creeps seriously into the Audrey Hepburn look were waiting for us," he replied.

"They were all dressed in black," Fox explained to wipe away Walter's confused expression. "With the added bonus of knives, tatooed wrists, poison, and shaved heads." He grimaced. "No offense."

"None taken," Skinner said, clearing his throat.

"The tatoo indicates that they belong to an elite monkish coven that worship the Great Old Ones," a voice from across the room told them. Dr. Kitzseiger, framed by the staircase railing, had followed the tail of the conversation. With a haughty British accent, the tall sandy-blonde woman appeared to be in her early thirties.

"This is Dr. Angela Kitzseiger," Walter said. As he proceeded to introduce his two guests, Kitzseiger waltzed across the room to shake Mulder's hand.

"Fox Mulder, this is a pleasure." She gave him a Colgate smile, grasping his hand. "Your reputation is quite legendary back in Oxford."

Mulder grinned, thinking that the doctor, dressed in her tan blouse, crisp skirt and cardigan, looked like she'd been born and raised in a library.

"Thanks," he replied. "I'm anxious to learn about this coven." He felt a gentle nudge from Jamie. "Oh! This is my--" he started, but Kitzseiger turned toward the stairs.

"I'm Jamie," he piped up.

She gave him a tight smile. "Gentleman, shall we proceed?" And with that she made her way up toward Skinner's study.

Walter gave Mulder a helpless look, which he passed on to Jamie as they followed after her. Jamie decided he wasn't exactly crazy about Dr. Kitzseiger. He glowered a little at the condescending woman's back.

Krycek moved up beside him. "Don't let Miss Priss bother you," he whispered, conspiratorially. "She barged in last night just as I had Walter's cock down my throat..."

A smile tugged at Jamie's mouth.

"...and I haven't killed her yet," Alex finished.

For the first time in twenty-four hours Jamie laughed.

A short time later they were gathered in Skinner's small study. Well worn books, slim manila folders and papers lay scattered across a plain but functional walnut desk before Dr. Kitzseiger. Donning a pair of spectacles, she leafed through them. "Here," she said, handing Mulder a folder.

He flipped through it and discovered several printed pages. They appeared to all be from internet web sites.

"I've been tracing the Order's movements through techno pagans online," she explained. "For many years they were a secret society. One of the most dangerous in the world. Only recently have they made their presence known."

And how, Jamie thought gloomily.

While Mulder scanned the notes Kitzseiger displayed a large, heavy tome. Mulder recognized it immediately, thanks to his subscription to Mysteria Press.

"Isn't this the Ly'Bahr?" he asked, in awe. "I thought it had been lost."

"It had," she nodded, "but luckily it was found during the excavation of the Oxford woods."

"You mean it was down in the catacombs?"

Jamie exchanged blank looks with Alex and Skinner, and decided to voice all their thoughts. "The who, what and huh?"

Mulder smiled, always eager to explain. "It's said that this book contains ancient rituals dating back to the middle ages."

"Close," Kitzseiger corrected. "Actually the Ly'Bahr is much older than that. It was used in early primitive ceremonies." She took a deep breath. "However, the ritual text is based on very sketchy legends."

"Yeah, that's great and everything," Krycek broke in, much to Mulder's annoyance, "but what about the cult?"

Kitzseiger clicked her tongue. "Not so much a cult as a coven. The Order of Dathomir, to be precise. An elite sect who worship the first high priest of Azathoth."

"How did you find out about them?" Skinner wondered. The doctor was giving Mulder a run for his money with wild theories, he thought.

"It all started with the disappearance of Professor Henric Tiamat," she said, steepling her fingers. "He was my predecessor in the parapsychology department."

"Tiamat?" Mulder whispered, half to himself.

"You know him?" Jamie asked, curiously.

Mulder nodded. "By reputation. He wrote several controversial books on revivication rituals."

"Let me guess, you have the complete set at home?" Krycek asked, his words dripping with sarcasm.

"Watch it, boy, watch it," Walter warned him in a friendly growl. This did not go unnoticed by either Jamie or Mulder.

Kitzseiger continued. "This is the Book of Tisianne, the first work published by Tiamat," she indicated a book with a cracked, jet-black binding. "I've been tracing his movements ever since he was first spotted in San Francisco."

"Wait a minute, Tiamat was responsible for the excavation of Azathoth's bones?" Mulder's eyes lit up and he punched the air. "Yes! It makes perfect sense."

Lost, Jamie laughed uneasily. "Silly me. I should've known."

Alex gave a little chuckle of agreement.

Momentarily removing her glasses to polish them, Kitzseiger took up the explanation. "They believe that by resurrecting the Old One, he in turn will bring back their high priest, Dathomir, who was possessed with enormous power."

"I've seen this kind of fanatasim before," Mulder said, grimly recalling the Cult of Azathoth and the many FBI profiles he'd worked on. "They have a single-minded purpose."

Jamie shuddered. "I get it. Religion's freaky."

"So we're dealing with an elite cult?" Alex added. "Well, at least we'll die with style."

"We're not dead yet," Walter reminded him.

"I know someone we can contact who can probably give us the goods on Professor Tiamat," Mulder told them.

"Who?" Skinner asked.

"Carolyn Fredericks," he replied, looking at Jamie. "Her husband works for an Oxford newspaper."

"Carolyn." Jamie sighed nostalgically, remembering his dear friend from university.

Mulder walked round behind Kitzseiger to peer over her shoulder. "What if they're hoping to harness some mystical power?" he suggested. "Don't forget this was one of the Great Old Ones." Leaning over her shoulder, he inadvertently bumped the doctor's arm.

"Do you mind?" Kitzseiger snapped.

A little wounded, Mulder backed away. "Excuse me," he replied. "I'll just stand back here looking pretty and pouting."

"Good idea!" she muttered, not paying attention to him in the slightest. "Now where was I? Oh yes, this text is in ancient Latin. It could take some time."

"Oh, great." Alex rolled his eyes. "I should've brought my travel scrabble."

She scanned the page, at the same time searching another book to decipher the language. "This ritual will take place on holy ground using the bones..."

"Which they have," Mulder chimed in.

"Quite," she nodded, "and the blood of... Unfortunately this part's not very clear... of the mortal closest..." She looked up. "Someone connected to the Old One."

The room suddenly grew silent.

"Me?" Jamie asked. All eyes turned to him. "Come on guys, you know the score, he was inside my body for eighteen years." He sighed. "Believe me, we were close."

"I don't understand," Kitzseiger admitted.

"You don't wanna know," Alex replied, smiling ironically.

She simply nodded, returning her attention to the book. "They have until the next full moon to perform their ritual."

"But that's in a few days," protested Mulder. Could things get any worse?

"Precisely."

"So we just have to keep Jamie safe until then, right?" asked Walter. "It may take some doing, but I'm sure I can arrange a secure place for him to stay."

At that Jamie made a little choking noise. He really did not like the idea of hiding. He'd much rather face this head on. Fox glanced up at him. "I'm okay," Jamie told him, quietly.

"Jamie," Mulder said softly. He rested his hands on his shoulders and gazed into Jamie's glistening green eyes. "This could take some time. Why don't you try to get some rest?"

"Don't patronize me, Mulder," Jamie whispered. "Whatever's in those books affects us both. I want to know."

Dr. Kitzseiger looked up and cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but can we please get on?"

Mulder turned back to Jamie. "I want to find out everything I can about this ritual. I can't do that if I'm worried about you. Please, Jamie?"

Fox looked so determined, so certain that he'D find something, that Jamie weakened. "All right." In spite of himself, he smiled at his lover, and gave his nose a gentle tug. "Happy reading."

"Jamie, wait up!" Alex called. "I'll show you where you can crash for a while."

Pausing at the top of the stairs, Jamie, feeling frustrated, folded his arms.

"Hey," Krycek said. "I didn't know how much more I could take of that." He looked at his friend closely. "How're 'ya holding up?"

"I'm like you, I'm indestructible. I'm fine." Jamie felt his defences breaking. "Actually, not." His voice shook a little. "I'm so scared and I'm trying so hard to be strong, because any minute now, it feels like I might freak out."

Alex's heart ached with sympathy. "Jamie, I've been there... Lost. The trick is you can't let it consume you. You have to keep a hold on yourself."

Jamie gave him a watery smile. "What if I can't?"

"What can I do to help?" he asked, reaching out to squeeze Jamie's shoulder.

Jamie was quiet for a moment. Then he looked back up at Krycek, with a sparkle in his eye. "There is something you can do..."

*****

The general and the specific, he thought. The abstract and the concrete. The difference between the two is always waiting to trip you up. The unfamiliar words spread out before him were bad in themselves, plus dealing with the fact that hidden within was what this coven had planned for Jamie was even worse. Mulder rubbed at his weary eyes. The text before him now appeared completly blurred. His Latin was so rusty that not even a squirt of WD40 would help, but he knew enough basic words to get him through.

Next to him Dr. Kitzseiger was ahead of him, having dipped into several books. Now, she sat thoroughly absorbed in something she referred to as The Journal of Oberon. Unfortunately, Mulder was making no headway with the notes. He propped his head up and wondered what Jamie was doing, and what was taking Skinner so long. He'd gone into another room and been on the phone for some time making arrangments for a safe house.

He kept willing his cell phone to ring. Carolyn just about screamed his ear off when she learned that Jamie was indeed alive. She promised to get her husband to track down all he could on Professor Tiamat and would call back later.

"I'm gonna get something to drink," he told Kitzseiger. He stood and stretched out his back with a groan. "Want anything?"

"No, thank you," she replied with a wave of her hand. "Hurry back. This section makes several references to the ritual."

*****

Krycek flung his head to avoid the sweat trickling down into his eyes. Heart hammering in his ears, he flung out his arms. "Jamie," he panted, "that's it."

He'd been more than eager to jump at Jamie's suggestion, but he had no idea that the blonde had this much enthusiasm and energy for it. Licking his lips, Jamie pressed home his advantage.

Holding a pillow to his chest, Krycek neatly deflected the blow. In his white T-shirt, oversized flannel shirt and grey-green slacks, Jamie had barely broken a sweat. He was a natural, agile and strong, and fueled by unresolved anger. Twirling in an elegant arc, he kicked out and knocked Krycek flat off his feet. He landed with a thump on his rear. Jamie grimaced and hurried to his side.

"Alex! Oh!"

"It's not everyday I'm swept off my feet," he said, breathing heavily. "You've got style."

Jamie quickly helped his friend back up. Krycek wiped his brow and peered at him closely. Over the course of the evening he'd taught Jamie a few defensive moves, and he was a fast learner. "Are you sure you're not tiring yourself out?" he wondered.

"I'm sure."

Alex took a swig from a bottled water resting on the coffee table. "So, you and Spooky are working out okay?" He wasn't sure that it was any of his business, but he thought talking about Mulder might ease Jamie's stress a little.

"I love him so much, and I'm not going to let all this Who's Cult Is It Anyway? business mess up the best thing that's ever happened to me," Jamie told him, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Come on, teach me."

On his way downstairs, Mulder's heart leapt into his throat at the sound of a scuffle. Holding on to the railing, he jumped the length of the stairs to the carpeting below. His eyes widened with surprise. Suddenly Jamie hit the floor in front of the couch hard on his back. He pulled his right knee up to his chest. Alex crouched over him, holding himself up with his arms and grinning down at Jamie.

Jamie used his leg to throw Krycek over his head. The Russian flipped backward and landed flat on his back. Jamie performed a kick-up, bringing himself up to a standing position, and spun around to face Alex as he got to his feet. He hesitated for a moment before lunging at the other man with a wide punch that Jamie easily ducked.

Jamie slipped up behind him, and Krycek turned around to face him. He tried a left-hand punch, but Jamie inner form blocked it and flew into a half-spinning in-to-out crescent kick. Alex ducked it, but got knocked off his feet when Jamie kept on spinning downward with a back leg sweep, sending him to the floor.

Krycek made a swift turn with his leg, catching Jamie's and sending him scrambling onto the carpet. Grunting, Jamie disentangled himself and grabbed the water bottle. Rolling toward Alex, he came up and straddled him at the waist, holding the bottle against his neck.

"How's that, Obi-Wan?" asked Jamie, triumphantly.

Alex nodded. "You got it."

>From the direction of the stairs, Mulder cleared his throat to gain their attention. "Having fun?" he asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

Jamie looked down and his cheeks instantly flushed. "Fox, we were-uh-" he replied, flustered. "I mean Alex was just teaching me some manoeuvers." He stood and brushed down his clothes.

"I can see that," he replied, a bit too hotly. He aimed a glare in Krycek's direction. "If you don't mind could you please keep your hands off my lover?" With that he stalked into the kitchen.

Alex rolled his eyes. Jamie sighed deeply and gave his friend a shrug. "I'll be back."

Following Mulder into the kitchen, he found his steaming Fox gulping down an orange soda and mumbling to himself.

"Mulder, were you just talking to yourself?" Jamie asked, with a crooked grin. "Grams always told me that was the first sign of madness."

Mulder couldn't stay mad. He returned the smile and said, "Hmmm... Funny I thought I said that."

Coming up behind him, Jamie wrapped his arms round his waist and leaned his chin on Fox's shoulder. "What is it with you and Alex, anyway? You can't be jealous."

"It's a long story, Jamie," he replied, quietly.

"But why can't you at least give him a chance? He's my friend, plus he and Mr. Skinner are crazy about each other."

Mulder balked at the notion. "Do you have any idea how much pain, how much trouble he's caused?!" he erupted, pulling away from Jamie's embrace.

Jamie cocked his head inquisitively. "Mulder, you sound just like my mom!"

That stopped him in his tracks.

"I do not!" he protested. Then he laughed, realizing he did sound like Janine, with just a little Teena Mulder thrown in for flavor.

Deciding it was best to change the subject, Jamie asked, "How's the research coming along?"

"We're still working on unravelling the ritual text," he replied. "If I can find the answers, this doesn't have to end badly."

"Who says it's going to?" Jamie saw a dark shadow fall over his lover's usual bright eyes. "Hey, you all right?"

"With everything you're facing again and you ask how I am?"

"Nothing I can't deal with," said Jamie confidently.

Proud beyond words, Mulder shook his head. "I wanna be just like you when I grow up."

"Somehow I can't see that, Peter Pan."

"Come here," Mulder called, extending his arms, which Jamie instantly fell into. "Jamie, I'm sorry. I am so sorry this is happening..."

"Shh," Jamie whispered. Titling his head, he gently pressed his lips against his lover's perpetual pout. "You know what I've been thinking about?" he asked after a moment.

Fox was breathless. "What?"

"How I used to lie awake at night, or be walking home from somewhere, and I'd stare at the stars, just dreaming. Then I met you and the dream came true."

"Yeah?"

"I fell in love with a tall, dark and handsome man with a sense of adventure." Jamie peered into his glistening eyes and pressed their foreheads together. "We belong together, Fox, and that's exactly where we're gonna stay."

Mulder kissed him deeply, passionately, and for a few precious moments the problems facing them disappeared.

*****

With renewed energy, Mulder returned upstairs. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was nearly dawn. Three days before the Order of Dathomir carried out their ritual. Time was literally running out. Mulder walked onto the landing and turned a corner as Skinner emerged from his bedroom.

"It's all set," he announced. "It wasn't easy. Especially convincing them that this is for someone who doesn't officially exist."

His former agent smiled. "Thanks, Walter. This means a lot."

"Mulder, why don't I drive you and Jamie there now? You should really try and rest."

"No." He shook his head. "I just can't sit back and watch when my lover is in danger of being taken away again."

Walter nodded silently, realizing it would do no good to reason with Mulder right now. "Are you having any luck?" he asked.

"A little," he replied, hopefully. "Dr. Kitzseiger's found a few references to what we need."

"How's Jamie?" Skinner wondered, his concern showing.

Mulder gestured. "He's downstairs going at it with Krycek." Skinner's eyes flashed dangerously and his head whipped toward the stairs. Mulder was quick to clear things up. "Walter, they're exercising, training."

Skinner's face went a bit red and he exhaled.

Before entering the study, Mulder shot him a puzzled look. "So you and the Rat Bas--" he broke off. "Krycek are together?"

Walter looked him straight in the face. "As crazy as it sounds, yeah."

"What about the nanobytes floating through your body?"

Chuckling awkwardly, Skinner rubbed the back of his neck. "Thing of the past. Alex destroyed the palm pilot weeks ago."

Leaving Mulder momentarily speechless, Walter went ahead into the study. Gazing at the ceiling, the younger man whispered, "Wonders never cease."

Following the A.D. inside, he found Kitzseiger in an agitated state. "Mulder!" she called. "Here, I've found it."

Mulder rushed over, and she indicated the yellowed page. As with most of the works, it was in Latin. He started reading the words he recognized.

"Recro... Senex Unus... Sceleratus... Moratlis Proximus... Tempus...Abeo... Necessarios..." He tapped a finger to his half-open lips, deep in thought. "Tied to the blood," he whispered.

"Pardon?" said Skinner.

Mulder's eyes widened. "Wait a minute. Proximus," he said aloud. He'd just had an idea. No, it couldn't be true, could it? He stared unseeing at the book before him, the blood starting to hammer in his temples.

"What is it?" Kitzseiger pressed.

"Yeah, don't keep it to yourself," Walter agreed.

"What if we've been looking at this from the wrong angle? What if..."

Skinner and Kitzseiger listened expectantly.

*****

"I'm spent!" Alex exclaimed, falling backward onto the sofa. He rested a hand on his heaving stomach.

Jamie, who seemed raring for more, looked disappointed. "Really?"

Krycek sat up, exhaling painfully. "Jamie, you've kicked my ass enough for one night."

"Oh, okay." He slapped his arms against his sides, giving up. "Can I get you something?" he asked, noticing the empty water bottle.

"Hell yes," Alex replied, pointing toward the kitchen. "Just as long as you make it strong."

Walking into the kitchen, Jamie opened the well-stocked refrigerator and examined what Skinner had to offer. "I assume that doesn't mean apple juice?" he called out.

Krycek groaned back loudly in response.

Grabbing a beer, Jamie popped it open. Wrinkling his nose at the smell he started back for the living room when Skinner thundered downstairs. Alex looked up and Jamie paused in the archway.

"Mulder's found something," Walter told them, excitedly. He searched for Jamie. "You're not going to believe this!"

"What is it?" Jamie asked, moving forward. Then, a few paces ahead, Skinner's front door buckled with an ear-splitting boom. Jamie tumbled back against a wall, spilling the beer. "This does not look good!" he exclaimed.

Against tremendous force, the door rocked on its hinges. Krycek sat up. "Fuck!"

Suddenly the door was kicked in, and it clattered down, narrowly missing Jamie. Like a swarm of mad dogs, the Order of Dathomir's assassins filled the apartment.

"Fox!" Jamie screamed a warning, but it was also a scream to focus his strength, to power him. He turned as the intruder nearest lunged at him, but Jamie swiftly ducked and slipped underneath him, lifting him and sending him flying over his head and onto the kitchen table.

Two more of the coven rushed in and made their way toward Krycek. Skinner dashed into the living room, his eyes flashing to his weapon cabinet, when he felt a body slammed against him. He gave a grunt of pain as his head was thrust forward.

Another of the elite headed for Jamie, swinging a razor sharp blade. He missed as Jamie, heart thumping, stepped behind the table. Quickly, Jamie kicked out it's legs, sending it skidding across the linoleum and smashing into the crazed man coming after him, knocking him to the floor, where he joined his fellow.

Jamie grabbed the arm of the next attacker, and pulled back. "Ever heard of knocking?," he asked, and slammed him into the wall. He then turned his attention to the first cultist and roundhouse kicked him in the face as he tried to get up.

Krycek cursed as he was tackled into a wall. He kneed the man's groin and pushed him violently over the coffee table. It cracked under impact. He cast his fevered green eyes around the room. There appeared to be four of them, and they cast about in angry confusion, not expecting resistance on this scale.

Skinner struggled against the cultist pressing his face into the cabinet. He grabbed him by the neck and shoved his head into the display case, breaking the glass, then yanked him up through the glass top as well. Alex raced forward and pulled the dazed intruder around, smashing a fist into his face. The blows didn't faze the possessed assassin. Skinner quickly scanned the debris of the case for a gun.

A dagger appeared, slashing out toward Krycek's throat. Alex jumped out of harm's way, but then found himself off balance, and the attacker used this to his advantage, knocking Alex to the floor. Pulling on the nearby cabinet, he sent it crashing down on top of he Russian, knocking him out.

"Alex!" Skinner shouted, rushing to help his lover.

The attacker stepped past him, scanned the room quickly and headed straight for the stairs. Seeing this, Jamie rushed to engage him. Growling, the cultist wrapped his arm around Jamie's and dragged his arm downward. Jamie yanked back up and pulled his arm free, and punched the man twice in the face.

Skinner placed both arms beneath the cabinet and started to lift it off of Alex, who lay dazed under it. One of the assassins reached Skinner and raised a knife above him.

"Look out!" Jamie cried. He kicked back before the cultist could reach the surly A.D., making the would-be assassin jerk aside but not fall.

In a rush of exertion Skinner alleviated the heavy pressure of the cabinet, then he hurried to help Jamie. The lead intruder tried to punch, but Skinner ducked and punched him instead. Walter spun around and backhand punched the cultist behind him in the face, who fell immediately.

"Nice," Jamie commented, his breathing heavy.

Walter sucked in some air. "They don't call me Slugger for nothing." Skinner ducked another punch from the lead assassin, who grabbed onto his shirt, pulled him around roughly and smashed Walter's face into a table. A lamp shattered and sparked on the floor.

Jamie punched his enemy in the gut and high punched him in the face. While the assassin was stunned, he grabbed onto his head and yanked it around and down to his left side, flipping the man over onto his back.

Dazed, Skinner staggered away from a knife thrust. He pointed to the steps and yelled at Jamie as two of the intruders slipped by them. The leader made to follow, but Jamie jumped and landed on his back, struggling with him.

"Get upstairs!" hollered Jamie.

Walter made for the stairs. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jamie pound his assailant on the back, but he just roared and elbowed him off, knocking Jamie into a bookcase.

With his attention diverted, Skinner was kicked roughly in the gut by the second attacker. Losing his balance he tumbled backward, coming to rest senselessly at the bottom of the staircase.

The fourth cultist down below hopped up onto the kitchen counter, ran across it and leapt over the railing above.

Jamie's opponent punched him, and he stumbled, but regained his footing. Upstairs he could vaguely hear the fight continuing. "Mulder!" he shouted. He felt his shoulders grabbed in a firm grip. The leader spun him around and viciously threw Jamie into a wall, his head contacting sickeningly with the corner, sending him into oblivion.

*****

"What's going on?" Kitzseiger cried, stepping away from the desk.

Mulder heard Jamie's distant cry. "I don't know, but it sure isn't exercise!"

The study door burst open, and the three elite piled in.

"Dathomir assassins!" Kitzseiger exclaimed, horrified. She attempted to run, but the first one lashed out, sending her spinning to the floor.

Mulder punched at the first man, but it seemed to have no effect. He swung again, and the assassin grabbed his arm and held on tight. He swung with the other one, but it was caught, too, and then he was pushed away.

The three began to close in on Mulder, but before any more fighting could ensue their leader appeared, clapping his hands twice. "Enough!" he ordered, in a deep Scottish accent.

The other three just backed off. Mulder faced this new threat, ready to fight. It was quiet downstairs and his mind filled with dread. The leader stepped over Kitzseiger and walked around Mulder, like an animal taunting its prey. With a roar of rage, Mulder punched at him, but the cultist blocked him easily, as well as two follow-up swings.

The Dathomir assassin grabbed Mulder by the arms. He swung him around and shoved him away. Mulder lunged at him, but his attacker grabbed him by the throat and forced him back against the desk, gripping hard and choking him. He smiled evilly and picked up a paper weight in the shape of a ship. Mulder's eyes widened as the man swung his hand up and knocked it against Mulder's head. With a groan Mulder collapsed to the floor.

The elite assasin leader watched him fall, and looked down at him. He turned to his accomplices. "Let's get what we came for."

Two of them grabbed the unconscious Mulder by the arms and dragged him from the room. The remaining coven assassins followed them out.

*****

Below, Jamie slowly came to and winced in pain. He felt the right side of his head and his hand came away covered in blood. Blearily he scanned the room, which seemed draped in purple. He focused his eyes as a wave of nausea flooded over him.

Skinner lay unmoving at the bottom of the stairs, and Alex was still stretched prone under the fallen cabinet.

He gasped at the sound of footsteps. The leader moved past him and out of the broken front door. Two more followed carrying a familiar-shaped bundle in their arms. A fourth figure, lagging behind the rest, followed. Gathering his strength, Jamie reached out and pulled the man down, hard. His head connected with a door fragment. The man's fellows left him behind, their prize within their grasp.

Voices gathered out in the hall. They seemed far away and drowned out by the blood rushing in Jamie's head. Dizzily he stood and ran across the cluttered room. Throwing himself on the stairs, he rushed up them and down the hall. Like one of his nightmares, the world seemed distorted and slowed down.

He rounded the corner and stopped at the study door. Jamie looked around at the damage, and then saw Dr. Kitzseiger lying on the floor. Jamie hurried to her side and skidded down next to her on his knees.

He took Kitzseiger's hand as she tried to sit up. "He said... they weren't... after you," she croaked, "they... never... were."

Realizing that his lover had been taken, Jamie choked on hot tears even as he felt an unrelenting cold despair grip his heart. "Fox," he whispered, as his world came spiralling down around him.

[Next Episode: Trust No One]

---

TITLE: Surfacing Chapter 10: Full Circle
AUTHOR: Chad Moore
FANDOM: XF
DATE: November 29th, 2001
SERIES: Dangerous Undercurrents and Conundrum
E-MAIL: Mulderholic@webtv.net
RATING: PG13 (Chapter 10)
CATEGORY: M/O
ARCHIVE: Yes, please
KEYWORDS: Slash, Romance, Angst, Adventure
WARNINGS: WIP
SPOILERS: This story takes place after "Existence," with references to past seasons.
DISCLAIMER: All familiar characters belong to CC, 1013 and Fox TV; any others were conceived in my warped imagination.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter was inspired by "Buffy The Vampire Slayer"
EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS: To Goddess Michele
BETA READER: Bertie

---

Chapter Ten: Full Circle

At the bottom of the stairs Skinner regained consciousness with a low groan. He got up, using the railing for support. His head swam and there was a fire in his gut. How long had he been out? he wondered. Nearby Krycek moaned groggily beneath the shattered cabinet still pinning him down. Walter hurried to his side, concern shining in his warm brown eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, shifting the panelling.

"About as okay as anyone would feel with a cabinet dropped on them," Alex replied with as much sarcasm as he could muster. His tone reassured Walter that his lover would be fine.

Exhaling painfully, Alex was shocked at the state of Skinner's normally immaculate apartment. It looked as if a bomb had dropped. "Walter!" Krycek shouted. "What the fuck happened?" It was all a blur.

"Come on." Grasping him under an arm, Skinner helped him to his feet. Together they surveyed the damaged apartment. Skinner's eyes shot to the broken door, which he'd just had replaced -- he grimly thought, and out into the hall where a crowd had gathered.

Alex rubbed at his sore back, hoping that he hadn't cracked his freshly healed ribs. He pointed to the floor where a black shape lay unconscious. "Who do you suppose did that?" he asked.

Skinner eyed the fallen Dathomir assassin. After Jamie's valiant fight, he could guess who was responsible. The creaking of feet on stairs made him turn. With shaky steps a disshevelled Dr. Kitzseiger, holding tight to the railing, came downstairs. She peered about disoriented. Walter came over as the poor woman looked on the verge of collapse.

"Come and sit down," he urged her gently. "Are you all right?" he asked, leading her to the sofa.

"Y-yes," she replied. "I've never seen anything like this."

Walter swallowed, hard. Anger swelled at the thought of his home being violated and ripped to shreds. He looked over at Alex. "Can you make it upstairs on your own?" he wondered.

"I think so."

"See what happened while I take care of things down here."

Nodding, Alex made a couple of jerky movements toward the stairs. Walter watched him go. He unconsciously clenched his big palms into fists; his eyes darted down at the prone assassin lying spreadeagled across the remains of the door.

"Watch him," he told Kitzseiger.

Using the railing Krycek hauled himself up each step, his breathing laboured. Down below he could hear Walter telling the crowd that "everything was under control." Krycek snorted. Like hell it was. Their attackers had been highly trained and more than prepared. Just how the fuck had they tracked Jamie down?

The thought of his friend forced his legs to move faster. Krycek came rushing into the study, and stopped short when he saw that the place was in a similar shamble. His alert green eyes panned through the room to the desk, where Jamie sat facing the wall.

"Jamie!"

Alex rushed over to him to help, but he shook him off. Jamie was pale, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks.

"What happened?" Krycek asked. He grimaced at the nasty gash Jamie sported on his right temple.

"He's gone," he said simply, quietly.

*****

Ten minutes later Skinner had managed to get rid of the crowd. Now he was out in the hall talking with a couple of agents sent over by the bureau, and fielding a call from John Doggett. The agent agreed to keep the incident quiet from Scully for the time being, both men not wanting to alarm her.

Dr. Kitzseiger sat on the sofa shakily gulping down a glass of water. The woman seemed to be suffering from shock. Krycek imagined this was possibly the most excitement she'd seen outside the cloistered confines of Oxford University.

He took another gulp of whisky. Aside from the constant throbbing in his back, it only really pained him when he raised his arms. Alex looked over at Jamie. He'd managed to coax the other man downstairs, but Jamie remained distant and silent.

Jamie gazed down into space for a moment, then sniffed and put his hand to his forehead. He sniffed again, reaching out for a cloth lying on the table next to a bowl of water, and picked it up.

Krycek walked over to him and put his hand on the cloth. Jamie let him take it from his hand. Alex dipped it in the water and knelt down in front of him, reaching out and gently patting it over the gash in Jamie's forehead. He winced in pain, but doesn't pull away. He looked up at his friend sadly for a moment, then lowered his eyes.

"I don't understand," Jamie said suddenly. "If everything you love and fight for is taken away..." His voiced faded away, overcome with emotion.

"We're going to find him, Jamie. I promise." How, he wasn't sure. It just seemed to be the right thing to say. Krycek turned the now-bloody cloth over and continued to lightly dab it on his wound.

Jamie looked away. "We, we just have to think. Where would they have taken him?" A thought struck him. He turned back and looked at Krycek seriously. "Why did they take Fox and not me?" he asked, half talking to himself.

Krycek shrugged, still very much in the dark himself.

Skinner, coming back into the room, cleared his throat and explained. "Mulder said the ritual was, um... They needed the person who was closest to Azathoth. Physically close. When he, uh..."

"The Latin was translated rather badly," Kitzseiger continued, having finished her water. "Closest to the Old One actually translates as 'nearest'. Physically. The person who was with him... when he..."

"The one who was with Azathoth when he died," Jamie muttered. It all came together and his heart sank. "Oh my god." He remembered Mulder saying he witnessed Azathoth's death. Jamie stood up, ignoring the waves of dizziness. "We need to find out where," he said vehemently.

Alex sighed. "How?"

Tapping the table with his fingers, Jamie's eyes darted to the dark sleeping figure lying amongst the remains of Skinner's front door.

"He asks an excellent question," Kitzseiger chimed in. She seemed to have regained a bit of her stern composure. "All we know is that the revivification ceremony will take place on holy ground."

Jamie flashed a determined look at them. "Yeah, and I have a pretty good idea where."

Several feet away, the Dathomir assassin was awake. His black, tunnel-like eyes swept over the room. He raised a hand to his mouth, and Jamie pounced, kicking an object from his fingers.

"Ee-aagh!" the man cried out in pain.

"Jamie?!" Krycek shouted. They all watched as a small, white pill rolled over the carpet.

Jamie pulled the man to his feet, the assassin struggling all the while as Jamie slammed him against a wall. "No poison today, thank you," he told him. "Where did your friends take Mulder? Tell me where they are!"

The man just stared past him, unafraid and unblinking. Jamie increased his grip on him. "Now we can do this the hard way or..." Jamie paused, cocking his head as if in deep thought. "...no, sorry, there's just the hard way."

"You can do what you like," the captured assassin replied in a thick British accent. "I am not afraid of death."

"Neither am I," Jamie replied dangerously. "You see, I've been there and done that. One more time: where is Mulder?"

The man laughed. "You're already too late. He is dead."

"No." Jamie threw him against the wall, harder.

"What are you going to do, little one? I see it in your eyes. You can not kill me."

"Maybe he can't, but I will." Krycek moved up behind Jamie, took the assassin by the arm and threw him onto the floor. Kitzseiger gave a little squeak of surprise.

Krycek knelt beside the man, keeping him down firmly. "Now, my friend, since I'm not gonna kill you any time soon, the question is..." Using a technique he learned from the Consortium, Alex applied intense pressure to the man's throat. "...how are we gonna pass the time till then?"

The man gasped for air, and he violently shook his head. Blood began to stream from his nose. After several seconds Krycek moved his elbow away and backed off.

"What are they gonna do to him?" insisted Jamie, willing him to answer. "What are they gonna do?"

The man's eyes glazed over and his voice became a litany. "When the moon fills the sky we of Dathomir will meet in the Place of Augurs and bleed him dry!"

Alex, seeing the anguish in Jamie's eyes, lashed out and punched the man, knocking him out. Jamie felt a numbness creep over him.

There was an awkward, pained silence.

"What did he mean, a Place of Augurs?" Skinner asked Kitzseiger, who looked distressed.

"Augurs are people who can foretell the future. It's an ancient place of prophecy."

Jamie stalked across the room toward Dr. Kitzseiger. "Will this ritual kill him?" he demanded.

"Yes," she replied. "Mulder's blood can infest and reanimate Azathoth's corpse. And if he gets loose..."

"Then we have to get there and stop it!" Jamie broke in, determined.

Walter exhaled and proceeded carefully. "Jamie, we don't even know where they took Mulder."

"They're taking him back to Oxford."

Six questioning pairs of eyes looked at him.

Kitzseiger glanced at him, surprised. "What?"

"Jamie, how do you work that out?" Krycek asked.

"You said that ritual book was found in the catacombs, right?" Jamie confirmed with the doctor, who nodded. "These guys are obviously from the Mother Country," he said, pointing to the unconscious figure. "And that missing professor was from the university. Don't you see? It all fits! They're going back to where this all started."

"That is a huge leap," Kitzseiger said slowly.

"If these assassins came into the US, I can request airline security tapes to check," Skinner suggested.

Jamie exhaled in frustration. "We so don't have time for that!"

"I think it's best to allow Mr. Skinner to check first," Kitzseiger agreed.

Jamie looked at their faces in disbelief. Walter came closer and tried to make Mulder's lover see reason. "Jamie, if you're right and they did take Mulder back to England we're going to need help. We just can't run blindly into this."

"I have two days to find him," he replied through gritted teeth, "and you're all telling me to just sit around and wait. Well, I can't do that!" He moved away, heading for the door.

Krycek shared a worried look with Walter. Jamie was just as stubborn, if not more so, than Mulder. He hurried forward and grabbed Jamie's arm. "We're just trying to help," he told him. "Jamie, you're talking about flying all the way to England on a hunch. I think you've already been through enough."

"That's right." Jamie nodded. "I don't care if I have to smuggle myself aboard a plane. I have to end this once and for all. I have to get him back." His eyes darkened and he leaned forward. "Are you going to help me? Please tell me you're with me," he begged.

Alex bit his lip. It seemed to him that Jamie was playing with fire. He didn't exactly relish the notion of walking into a coven ceremony to rescue Fox Muder, but did he really have the right to stop Jamie when it meant so much to him? At least he was going in with his eyes wide open.

Walter shared another look with his lover, who nodded sagely. "We're with you," he said gently.

Alex nodded. "What he said."

"Good, because I've had it!" Jamie exclaimed, walking around them. "You can attack me, you can possess me, that's fine. But nobody messes with my Fox!"

*****

The first thing he noticed was the cold, which twisted round and seeped into his bare skin. Then his second shot of awareness came when he realized he was tied with a red, satin cord at the wrists and legs to a chair wearing nothing more than his slate grey boxer briefs. Ignoring the blinding pain behind his eyes, Mulder tried to take in his surroundings. How long had he been unconscious? It seemed like an eternity.

Vaguely he remembered briefly regaining consciousness some hours before. He was aware of movement beneath him, a slight low rumbling, like that of a private plane. He'd asked where and why of a man who'd given him something to drink. But the man had said nothing, and it wasn't long before Mulder drifted back into a restless sleep.

"That must've been some party," he muttered under his breath. He tried his restraints, but they were far too tight and were cutting into his flesh. With a deep sigh of resignation, he turned his attention to the darkness.

He was inside a small chamber. All around his feet were clumps of damp straw. The only illumination came from cracks and holes in the stone ceiling. Memories came flooding back, painfully. The black-clad Dathomir assassins bursting inside Skinner's apartment, Jamie's warning cry, the ritual text: the mortal nearest the Old One at the time he died. It was him! Him!

Just as panic set in, Mulder craned his neck and strained against the cords binding him to the chair. From somewhere nearby a door creaked open, emmitting a shaft of flickering torchlight. The licking orange flames stung his eyes and sent a fresh shooting pain through Mulder's head.

A figure wearing a hooded robe stepped inside. Mulder blinked through streaming eyes. The blow he'd sustained earlier had probably been a mild concussion, but the blinding light slowly became a little bearable. He noticed that the strange, small man appeared to be in his late sixties. His craggy face was somewhat familiar.

"Who are you?" Mulder asked, his voice breaking. "Where the hell am I?"

The cloaked stranger remained distrubingly quiet as he moved forward to examine Mulder's restraints. The heat from the flambeaux he held gave Mulder a little comfort. He shivered and goose bumps appeared as a cold hand ran over his skin.

"Look," he began, "any other time I'd be excited about being tied up, but I have a boyfriend. If you don't mind, I'd really like to get back to him."

Satisfied that the sacrifice was secure, the man stood and pulled the hood away from his face. Mulder blinked at the full elderly image before him.

"Just a minute. I know you." Recognition took hold. "You're Professor Henric Tiamat, aren't you?" Mulder's heart did a somersault. This was the man who'd been present when Azathoth's bones were recovered, the man who'd spent his life writing about occult ceremonies.

Tiamat stooped beside Mulder and reached out a hand, touching a vein that pulsed in the younger's man's neck. In a trembling voice Tiamat said, "Your blood is the key to the awakening. Is it not glorious? My work was scorned for years, but Dathomir showed me true power. All of the fools will learn."

He extracted a small knife from the folds of his robes. Mulder instinctively shrank bank. He grunted from the uncomfortable bonds. Glinting in the light, Tiamat placed the sharp knife edge against Mulder's chest. He applied pressure and made a shallow cut. Mulder cried out as a little trickle of blood appeared.

Tiamat reverently held the crimson-stained blade up to the light. "Just think," he whispered. "So much power in just a few drops." He smiled down at Mulder like a grandfather would toward their favorite grandchild. Mulder found his expression ghoulish.

Sheething the knife, Tiamat stood with some effort and headed back toward the door.

"Hey!" yelled Mulder. "Come back! You can't leave me in here!"

"Shout as loud and as long as you like," Tiamat said reasurringly, "no one can hear you."

******

Jamie peered through the small, oval window and down into the darkened, clouded heights. Below he could faintly make out the twinkling blue lights of a landing strip. His headache was nearly gone, and he felt ready to tackle the world.

Although Dr. Kitzseiger was eager to return home, securing a last-minute flight to the United Kingdom had taken some doing. As Skinner predicted, it had also taken a lot of red tape cutting to get Jamie a passport.

Before leaving Crystal City, the unconscious assassin had been taken into custody, and Carolyn had finally called back on Mulder's discarded cell phone. As he'd dashed to answer it, Jamie naively hoped Fox would be on the other end.

Carolyn's voice had gripped Jamie's heart, but there was little time for sentiment. He'd swiftly explained what had transpired. Carolyn and her husband had arranged to meet them at Heathrow. Apparently Keith Frederick's journalistic contacts had come up trumps with information on the mysterious Professor Tiamat.

Because of the hasty flight arrangements, the quartet were scattered about the passenger compartment. This had caused a grumble from Skinner, who was rather insistent on sitting next to Alex. Now Krycek was crammed between a mother and the obligatory crying baby. As the airplane made its descent, he leaned forward.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked Jamie.

"I'm ready."

*****

"Here they are!" Carolyn squealed, her voice rebounding off the walls. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Keith huddled nearer as several people rushed forward to greet those disembarking from the morning flight. After his wife's encounter with Fox Mulder over the summer, he was more than intrigued to meet her presumed-dead friend Jamie, and learn what connection they had with Tiamat. There was definitely a big story brewing.

Carolyn gasped and pushed her way forward. Keith craned his neck to see four people, three men and one woman, step off an escalator. Carolyn's breath caught. She stopped a few feet in front of Jamie, still not believing her own eyes. Dressed in a long-sleeved, black cotton shirt with blue jean overalls, he was literally the vision of a ghost from the past. Nothing about him had changed, except the modern hairstyle and the sad, haunted look in his glistening eyes.

"Jamie," she breathed.

"Hi, Carolyn."

He moved closer and was soon engulfed in an enormous warm hug. "Foxy said you were alive," she whispered, hugging Jamie even tighter. Her nickname for Mulder sent an ache to Jamie's fast beating heart. Through tears Carolyn gave him a kiss which Jamie returned. He then smiled a greeting at Keith.

After a quick round of introductions, Carolyn and Keith escorted the group through security to pick up their luggage. They walked down a carpeted corridor past gift shops and snack bars. Down a wide hall, into the sprawling terminal, and out toward the parking lot.

Carolyn opened the side door of a blue family mini-van, waving at them. "Climb on in." She pulled a sea green duffel bag from Jamie's arms and threw it into the back. Jamie, followed awkwardly by the others, found plenty of room inside.

Keith started the engine and headed out. Carolyn twisted around in her seat to evaluate her long-lost friend. Jamie was still Jamie, Carolyn thought, relieved. Waiting for him at the designated airport gate, she had not been sure what to expect.

"I booked you rooms at Rose Cottage," Carolyn addressed them. "We'll drive you there so you can rest."

"No," Jamie interrupted. "I want you to take us to Oxford Woods."

Carolyn hesitated. "Jamie, you don't mean--"

"Yes, the catacombs."

Uncertain looks were passed. Skinner ended any possible debate by waving at Jamie. "Don't argue with him."

Dr. Kitzseiger, who'd been silent for most of the trip, turned her thin, tight lips to Jamie. "So that's what you're planning?"

Jamie folded his arms and nodded, daring anyone to give him an argument.

"What did you think?" Krycek sarcastically asked her. "This isn't a pleasure trip, sister."

"I was thinking that we'd arrive here with a clear course of action."

"I'm sorry, Jamie," Carolyn began. "But I have to agree with her."

"What?" he exclaimed, dumbfounded.

"Sorry." She shook her head. "Still can't take it in about Phoebe, I guess."

"Phoebe?" asked Jamie. "What happened to her?"

"She's dead," Carolyn replied sadly. "She was found battered to a pulp near that cave." She visibly shuddered at the memory. She and Foxy had barely escaped with their lives.

Jamie didn't know what to say.

"That's horrible." He managed in the end.

"Yeah," Krycek agreed, vaguely.

Skinner sat back. "I knew this trip was a bad idea," he muttered gruffly under his breath.

There was a slightly embarrassed pause. The silence that followed was almost physically painful.

Keith looked up at them in the rear-view mirror. "Have you notified the police?"

"Do you really think they'd believe us?" Kitzseiger spoke up, surprisingly.

Skinner nodded. "She's right. We only have our word about what's going on. What we need is solid proof."

Jamie tuned out their conversation. He gazed at the misty countryside stretching by. He would sooner die -- again -- than let Mulder suffer harm. Thinking of the terrible danger his lover was in crushed Jamie's heart.

"Hold on, Fox," he whispered. "I'm coming."

*****

A thick, other-wordly blue mist engulfed the few remaining trees surrounding the excavated Oxford Woods. Keith parked the van as close as he could to the sealed catacomb entrance. Jamie, seeing the dark woods ahead, had to keep himself from panicking, an instant response to the environment.

"Now what?" asked Carolyn, nervously.

"I'm going in there." Jamie was firm.

He saw the look in their eyes. To avoid a lecture, he got out and headed away. Stepping through the cold, morning air, Jamie shivered. Hugging himself, he was assailed by too many sharp, painful memories. They revolted him to the point of being physically sick.

"Jamie, be careful!" Carolyn's sweet, concerned voice called out.

"Don't worry," Krycek reassured her. "He's a lot tougher than he looks."

Carolyn and her husband opted to remain in the vehicle while the others investigated the cavern. Not waiting, Jamie filed ahead through a thicket of oak trees, toward the clearing. He paused before the churned up earth and stone. Planks of wood had been boarded up over the cave entrance, and the undisturbed ground showed that no one had tramped here recently.

"Jamie," Skinner began carefully. "I don't think they've been here."

"You're wrong." Jamie lunged forward and started tearing at the planks with his bare hands.

Kitzseiger, carrying one of two black, tubular torches handed to them by Keith, looked on closely. "The catacombs have been sealed ever since the excavation," she put in.

Thrusting a loosened board aside, Jamie whipped his head up. "I'm not leaving." He returned to work with renewed vigour. Destiny was forcing him to walk this path, back to where it all began. "I've got to find him before it's too late."

Seeing Jamie's exhausting effort, Alex hurried forward to lend a hand. Straining his muscles, he pulled one of the larger boards away in one go. Walter shook his head, admiring both Jamie's strength and determination. He laid his flashlight down to lend a hand.

"Jamie, I think you're right," Alex said, believing his friend needed encouragement. "You said this was a powerful place for the Cult. Some primitive traditional beliefs hold to the idea that cosmic forces equal great power."

Skinner looked up at him, suitably impressed. "How did you know all that?"

"Hey, I'm not just another pretty face," Krycek smirked. "Besides," he continued at Jamie. "I actually learned a thing or two working with Mulder on the X-Files." He took a deep breath and ripped away another sturdy plank.

In a few moments the entrance was clear. Brushing off his reddened hands, Jamie plucked Walter's flashlight from the dewey ground and faced the round, dark opening. For a second he could not catch his breath. Then he steeled himself, high on an adrenaline rush he could not control. Jamie shut his eyes and focused his thoughts on Mulder.

"Something tells me this is wrong," Kitzseiger said to Walter. "For an FBI Assistant Director you should be discouraging this."

"Loosen up, woman," Krycek retorted. Were her panties in a perpetual bunch?

"We've come too far not to check this out," Walter told Kitzseiger sternly. "There could be another way inside." Mulder was in terrible danger. By his calculation, they had less than twenty-four hours to find him. Sitting around reading a bunch of musty old books certainly wasn't going to help.

Kitzseiger stamped her foot. Walter wasn't sure if this was out of irritation or from the chill. "Still, I feel this needs proper research," she started.

Alex breathlessly turned. "You better quit talking and start walking." He nodded toward the entrance. "He's already in there."

Thankfully, the good doctor chickened out and decided to wait for them by the entrance. It was her reasoning that if, and she stressed the word 'if', there was any trouble she could call for help. While Walter thought this a very good idea, Alex simply shook his head and hurried after Jamie.

Two torch beams weren't enough to penetrate the inky blackness of the caverns. Jamie carried on, despite the terrible memories. The place was overpowering, the rock walls emanating with evil. His light flashed over rickety pit props and the rabbit warren tunnels leading deep under Oxford University.

"This place is like a maze," Krycek observed. His husky voice echoed all around them. Both Walter and Jamie made hushing sounds. "Okay, okay," he hissed back.

Jamie strained his ears. The only sound seemed to be a steady drip drop of water in the distance. He turned down one of the tunnels that sloped at a steep incline, the sort avid skateboarders would've loved. Certainly this would head toward the central chamber. If the coven had Mulder anywhere, it would be there, he reasoned.

Walter and Alex followed close behind. The further along they went, the more the walls seemed to crush in. Krycek felt himself break out into a sweat. Tiny rivulets of salty water streamed down his neck. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

His lover looked at him and nodded.

"I'm glad one of us is," he muttered. Alex reached out and grabbed Walter's strong hand, tightly, anxiously, squeezing it hard. He'd developed a severe case of claustrophobia ever since being locked up in that bunker all those years ago. "Fuckin' bastards," he swore under his breath.

Eventually, and much to Alex's relief, they emerged into a huge cavern. Twin high beams danced along the walls. The trio squinted in the darkness.

"So this is where they used to hang their hats," Alex remarked, speaking of the Cult of Azathoth.

Jamie nodded as they moved around the natural rock formations protruding from the ground. He felt an unnatural chill sweep over him. "It's dark, so dark," he whispered. "Can't you feel it?"

"It's your imagination, Jamie." Skinner attempted to reassure him, though he wasn't so certain. His skin started to prickle.

"There's something dangerous here." Jamie walked toward the cracked stone altar where he'd been stabbed eighteen years ago. He froze in his tracks. "I suddenly feel cold." His breath floated away in the chilled air. It was as if a dead hand were pressing on his heart. "I can't move!" he cried.

A low, hungry, hissing, gobbling sound filled the chamber.

"I think we're in trouble," Alex exclaimed.

>From out of the darkness, a huge shape appeared.

Jamie's fears were confirmed. It was a Shoggoth, a huge, monstrous creature used by Azathoth's followers as a guard and to seek out a Chosen One. He swallowed at the tormented memory of the Great Old One, possessing his body, and turning a hapless youth into this grotesque horror.

The Leviathan reared up like a cobra, its five-pointed head, ringed with red eyes, zeroing in on the three energy filled bodies before it. It was starving, its last meal having been months ago. With its only escape route sealed, the Shoggoth had waited patiently for food and now it was presented before it in abundance. With a hungry roar its tentacled mouth swooped down.

"Get back! Get back!" Skinner barked, pulling Krycek out of harm's way. Both men fell scrabbling onto the cave floor.

Jamie grunted and tried to move. There were whispers in his head, he couldn't concentrate. "Got...to...break...free!" With an agonising shout, Jamie willed his muscles to work.

The glistening carapace of the Shoggoth bore down on his friends. Without a moment to lose, Jamie hurled his flashlight, striking the horrible creature across the back.

"Hey, you overgrown slug!" he called, tauntingly. Jamie turned and ran up one of the tunnels with the enraged Leviathan in pursuit.

The slavering beast barrelled down a pit prop and some of the surrounding wall as it pursued its prey. Jamie kept running, following his instincts, while the Shoggoth tore through the tunnel like a freight train. Sections of the delicate roof began to collapse. Trickles of sand rained down on Jamie as he turned a tight corner. He scrapped his left arm painfully against an outcropping.

With a sudden, rending crack one of the more fragile pit props exploded downward. Jamie ran on, vaulting the jagged beam and looking back at the creature.

Its red, evil eyes became aware of the devastation it was causing, and realized it would soon become trapped. It whipped back around, squeezing its slimy body along the walls.

Jamie stopped and ran back. "Hey! Remember me?" he yelled.

The Leviathan turned its star-shaped head.

"Aren't you hungry? Or are you just plain scared of the Chosen One?"

Growling, the creature looked at him.

Jamie held out his scrapped arm, showing fresh spots of blood. "That's right. Come and get it!"

With a shrill roar, the Leviathan lunged forward and Jamie ran toward it. At the last second, he jumped and landed on the fallen pit prop. The sharp, broken edge shot up and impaled the hideous monster. The tentacled mouth let out a terrible shriek as vicious green blood spattered against the walls. In its death throes, its body gyrated like a snake.

Jamie crouched down next to the beam, catching his breath. He gazed at the creature, crinkling his nose in disgust. When it finally stilled, Jamie wiped at his face and breathlessly made his way back up the tunnel.

He found an anxious and concerned Skinner and Alex waiting for him. He staggered past them and wandered around the central chamber. He stopped when his foot hit the fallen torch.

"What happened, Jamie?" Walter asked, moving up behind him. "We heard a crash. Is it dead?"

Jamie nodded silently.

"Way to go!" Alex shouted, a little too loudly. He rested a hand on his young friend's shoulder, but Jamie flinched.

Jamie turned white, his eyes brimming with tears. "Where are they?" he asked, his voice strangled and throaty. "Where's Mulder?"

[Next Episode: All Roads Lead To Mulder]

---

TITLE: Surfacing Chapter Eleven: Hidden Evil
AUTHOR: Chad Moore
FANDOM: XF
DATE: December 1st, 2001
SERIES: Dangerous Undercurrents and Conundrum
E-MAIL: Mulderholic@webtv.net
RATING: PG (Chapter 11)
CATEGORY: M/O
ARCHIVE: Yes, please
KEYWORDS: Slash, Romance, Angst, Adventure
WARNINGS: WIP
SPOILERS: This story takes place after "Existence," with references to past seasons.
DISCLAIMER: All familiar characters belong to CC, 1013 and Fox TV; any others were conceived in my warped imagination. The character Sarah Jane Smith belongs to the BBC. Azathoth and the Great Old Ones are creations of HP Lovecraft and are now the property of Arkham House. No infringement intended.
BETA THANKS: Bertie

---

Chapter Eleven: Hidden Evil

Having gathered their flashlights, Krycek and Skinner escorted a shaken Jamie out, leaving the catacomb entrance open.

The drive into historical Oxford Town was mostly in silence.

Rose Cottage was a cosy, old-fashioned sort of place, modeled on the traditional English country hotel with every room sporting whitewashed walls, low ceilings, chintz curtains and comfortable antique furniture.

Settling in, Carolyn fussed over Jamie like she would his namesake, her own teenaged son James. Within no time at all she had cleaned and bandaged his scraped arm. Although her eyes twinkled an I-told-you-so, she never said it.

That afternoon, refreshed and rested, the group met in Jamie's sitting-room around a large polished table. Keith brought along all of his notes on the Dathomir coven, and Professor Tiamat's activities, while Carolyn's contribution was a stack of homemade sausage sandwiches.

Just as they started to tuck in, what they hadn't expected was an official visit from a Scotland Yard inspector. Inspector Jason Miller was a blustery man with a red face, and who smelled of peppermint schnapps. He'd been assigned the Oxford investigation ever since the untimely demise of his colleague, Phoebe Green. Having dove into the records, the inspector became well acquainted with the case. The probem was, he didn't care for mysteries.

Having been tipped to A.D. Walter Sergei Skinner's arrival by a friend within the FBI, Inspector Miller had tracked the party down, believing he could get answers directly from the source.

Currently, he listened with little enthusiasm as A.D. Skinner explained their presence in Oxford. Carolyn felt a surge of relief. It was high time the police were brought in, she thought.

"And what is your interest in all this, Mr. Fredericks?" asked the inspector, who was well used to seeing the journalist's face at various crime scenes.

"My editor, Percy, was quite keen for me to run with Jamie's story," Keith replied, matter-of-factly. "Once I told him it was a follow-up to the 1983 Oxford incident, it tied in with last summer's deaths, of course."

Jamie's eyes darted away.

"Sweetie, why don't you show him the stuff Miss Smith faxed you?" Carolyn suggested. Keith flipped through a folder.

"Who's Miss Smith?" Alex wondered as he polished off his third sandwich.

"Sarah Jane Smith. She investigated the original 1983 disappearances," Keith explained. "She's renowned for supernatural cases." He scanned a sheet of paper. "Ah! Here we are: The Order of Dathomir, a secret society, fanatical followers of an ancient priest called Dathomir who worshipped the Great Old Ones. They believe that one day Dathomir will return to rule the world."

"We know that already," Skinner sighed gruffly.

"We believe Professor Tiamat is the leader of a black magic coven," interjected Dr. Kitzseiger.

"That's what lead to his ousting at the University," Keith continued. "When his teachings became ... shall we say, a little odd, the elders decided it best to let him retire quietly."

"Where is he now?" Alex asked, snatching up another sandwich.

Keith pressed a finger to his lips. "That's an interesting thing. I tried interviewing the professor after he left the university. But that old manor of his has been deserted for weeks."

"He has no family, no friends who might help us?" Skinner put in, his FBI mind thinking of every possible angle.

Inspector Miller referred to his ever-present notebook. "There is a cousin, a Mrs. Emma Palliser. She resides at Tranquil Repose."

"A cousin?" A thoughtful Jamie spoke up for the first time. "Maybe she's one ... one of the coven. Isn't it supposed to run in families?"

Dr. Kitzseiger smiled slightly.

"Hardly," the inspector told him. "Tranquil Repose is a nursing home. Mrs. Palliser is ninety-two-years old." He shrugged. "None of what you've told me would hold up in court."

"Tiamat is behind Fox Mulder's abduction!" shouted a nettled Jamie. "People don't just vanish," he added, sadly.

"Funny you should say that." Miller raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you?"

Skinner gave the man a reproachful look. He appreciated police help, but like Alex, he felt protective of Jamie and had an urge to punch the inspector.

The way Miller shot off his mouth caused Krycek to scowl dangerously. Even Carolyn grimaced, looking ready to smack the man herself.

Although he bristled and squirmed, Jamie stood his ground. "Yeah, well that's different."

"Is it?" Inspector Miller pressed. "From what I understand both you and Mr. Mulder have habits of ... vanishing for long periods of time."

Jamie's shaking hands balled up into fists by his side. "Are you listening to me? Mulder is going to be sacrificed in this coven's ritual!"

That did it, Walter thought, shifting uncomfortably on the plaid sofa.

"A coven? Human sacrifice?" Miller repeated, skeptically.

"You've got to believe me!" said Jamie desperately.

"I protest, inspector," Dr. Kitzseiger spoke up. "You should listen to this young man's story. Professor Tiamat is tampering with forces he does not understand."

Jamie may have found an unlikely ally in the prissy doctor, but Krycek felt her outbursts were making things worse, not better.

"I'll admit that Tiamat's work is a little strange, and his disappearance hard to fathom, but what do you suggest we do if we find him?"

"If it's not too radical a suggestion, he must be stopped."

"I just don't see the connection between him, what happened last summer, eighteen years ago, and Mr. Mulder."

Jamie looked at him in hurt bewilderment and anger. "Look, what's going on here?" he demanded. "An Oxford professor goes off mysteriously. Bones are dug up in San Francisco. Then we're attacked ... and my lover disappears. What's the matter with you?"

"Look, I know you're angry. I know you're upset." There was no question that the inspector's concern was genuine.

"Of course I'm upset!" exploded Jamie. "You're politely suggesting we're nuts and now you're humoring me. We didn't imagine all this, you know."

"Yes, sir. But there must be a rational explanation for everything."

Jamie turned on him indignantly. "Am I being irrational?"

Walter felt a small chill. This could have been an early argument between Mulder and Scully.

"Covens ... Black magic ... Human sacrifice ... It's all very imaginative, but this is 2001," said Inspector Miller incredulously. "That stuff died out years ago."

"Do you know when the last witchcraft law was repealed?" countered Kitzseiger. "1957. It's alive today as it ever was."

"I'm merely trying to make you all see reason."

Jamie fumed. "Right," he snapped. And again: "Right!"

Dr. Kitzseiger stood up and primly smoothed down her already straightened skirt. "We have obviously wasted your time, inspector."

"I'll be going then." Miller snapped his notebook shut and gave the room a curt nod. "If I hear anything about Mr. Mulder, I'll give you a call."

"Oh, thanks a lot," said Jamie bitterly.

Miller paused on the front door's threshold to give a parting warning. "Just don't go looking for trouble."

Jamie was still fuming when the inspector left.

"Arrogant fool!" Kitzseiger muttered, haughtily. "He should have listened."

"What now?" Jamie asked grimly.

Kitzseiger folded her slim arms and walked in front of the fireplace. "Well, there's nothing more I can do here," she admitted. "I'd like to return to the University and see if the Vice-Chancellor has heard anything about Professor Tiamat." She threw Jamie a rare, reassuring smile. "While I'm there I'll pick up a few more books."

"Terrific," Krycek mumbled, disdainfully.

"I know you must find me tiresome," Kitzseiger said, observing the look on his face.

"You think?"

"All I want to do is offer my assistance."

Skinner calmly broke in. "And we appreciate it, doctor."

She clasped her hands together. "Well, then, I'll see you all soon."

After the door closed behind her, Krycek let out a sigh. Keith, on the other hand, looked up at his wife. "She was rather ... bracing, wasn't she?"

Carolyn didn't like that and she quickly stuffed a sandwich in her husband's mouth.

Jamie grasped a handful of Keith's notes from the coffee table. "Is there anything in here mentioning a place of prophecy?" he asked, leafing through the papers.

"Could be." Keith swallowed. "Miss Smith assured me that the details go as far back as the Freemasons who supposedly founded the Order."

Biting his lip, Jamie moved to a window. Fighting a sense of deep despair, he threw the folder down in disgust. He glanced at a wall clock and was horrified to see that it was almost noon.

The clock began to chime.

Krycek, sensing his sadness, moved closer to him. "We still have a whole day until the ritual," he reminded him, although he didn't like to think of Mulder's chances.

"Yeah, well," Jamie sniffed, "I don't want to give them a chance to get started."

Skinner cleared his throat, always uncomfortable in these situations. "Are you sure there's no one we can talk to?"

"None." Keith shook his head.

Walter got to his feet, a definite plan shining behind his wirerims. "You know, I think we should go and have a look round the professor's home."

At the hint of decisive action, excitement took hold of a dispirited Jamie.

However, thoughtful, worried looks were exchanged. Alex read his lover's mind, and he turned to Keith. "You've done a great deal of research on this, haven't you?"

Keith nodded. "No one's ever had to question." He smiled.

"Oh, Keith has won oodles of awards," Carolyn chimed in warmly.

"These notes cover everything? Legends? History?"

Again, Keith nodded. He wondered what Alex Krycek was getting at.

"Good." Alex grinned. He glanced back at Jamie and made a suggestion. "Jamie, will you stay here with Carolyn and go through them?"

"Why?" he asked in a quiet, but urgent voice. "You're not leaving me here!"

Krycek exhaled slowly, raising his eyebrows for a little backup. Carolyn took the cue. "Jamie, please stay and help me with the notes," she cooed. "We might be able to find something to help."

The concerned looks, mirroring those of his own family, were just too much. "All right," he sighed resignedly. Actually, Jamie was too tired to argue.

Breaking out into a winning smile, Alex slipped into his jet black leather jacket. "I promise we won't be long," he said.

Saying good-bye, Alex and Walter headed out into the hall. Meanwhile, Keith shared a quick kiss with Carolyn, both reminding the other about their cell phones.

Hearing the door close, Jamie propped himself up against the window.

Carolyn forced a smile, she was terribly worried about Foxy and she knew how desperate the situation was becoming.

Jamie stared miserably into space. "Fox, where the devil are you?"

*****

At the moment, Mulder remained tightly fastened to the uncomfortable chair in his cell. He'd lost all sense of time. And it didn't help that he kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Every time he thought of Jamie, his heart ached fiercely. He remembered the silence in Skinner's apartment and it frightened him out of his wits to think what could have happened.

He woke from a fitful nightmare of dark shapes swarming all over his lover. Groaning, he opened his bleary eyes with a start.

Standing before him was a truly terrifying figure. For a moment, Mulder believed he was still dreaming, but the pain in his head and the cut on his chest convinced him he was very much in reality.

The white robed figure wore a feathered bird mask which covered the face. From the distinctive curves, Mulder realized this was a female figure, with a feathered face that looked incredibly cruel and evil, but more than that, it radiated power.

Tiamat scurried out from behind her, keeping his head bowed as he approached Mulder. The woman pointed at him and, for the first time, Mulder saw that she was wearing dark gloves which ended in long, curved talons. He dreaded to guess what she intended to do with those.

Grabbing a handful of Mulder's silky dark hair, Tiamat wrenched his head up. Mulder yelled in protest. "His blood is warm, oh great one," the elderly man chanted.

"Professor Tiamat," Mulder began, "you're not really going to go through with this." He had to make the man see sense.

Tiamat's face was rapt, his voice a hypnotized drone. "It is the will of Dathomir."

"Think," urged Mulder. "Think what you're doing!"

"The priestess demands blood."

Mulder twisted his head forward as two figures draped in silver robes also entered the room. He could tell by their shaved heads and glazed stares that these were members of the coven's assassins. One of them held a bowl of steaming fluid. Catching a whiff, Mulder realized it was some sort of powerful incense. The priestess made another gesture and the two bearers moved forward.

The thick, sweet-smelling smoke drifted across Mulder's face, almost choking him. Far off he could hear the beginnings of a chant. He struggled, the incense making him dizzy. Tiamat held his face, forcing Mulder to inhale the fumes.

The bird-masked figure seemed to float over him, and Mulder thought muzzily that the sacrifice was near. Curiously, he felt no sensation of fear, just a calm acceptance. But there was no sign of a sacrificial knife. Instead the satin cords were loosened and he was lifted from the chair. Mulder felt his mind drifting away, and his last conscious thought was that the smoke of the insence must contain a narcotic drug. Ever the FBI agent, to the end.

Tiamat and the masked priestess watched as the bearers supported Mulder's limp body and carried him from the room. The professor exhaled loudly, pleased to have served the mighty Dathomir. Turning her golden eyes to him, the priestess stared at him.

Tiamat nodded, as if understanding some hidden thought. "Your will shall be obeyed," he chanted. By the stroke of midnight, Azathoth would rise and Dathomir would live again.

*****

As evening pressed in, Krycek, Skinner and Keith had just reached the large manor belonging to the elusive Professor Tiamat. The old dark house emanated a forbidding atmosphere with its gothic castle-like appearance.

Having picked the lock with an expert hand, Alex led the way inside. The manor was deserted. However, the state of the rooms struck them all as odd. It appeared as if someone had left in rather a hurry.

Volumes were missing from numerous bookshelves, rectangular patches of lighter wall paper marked the ghosts of portraits, and papers were scattered from wall to wall.

While Walter and Keith searched upstairs, Alex strode inside a little room with brick walls. He discovered a curtained alcove at the back furnished as a temple. There were silken drapes decorated with strange cabalistic signs, and an altar with a long-dead brazier.

"Anything?" Walter asked as he and Keith descended the stairs, having found the top floor in a similar frenzied state.

Alex gestured with his head at the altar. "Just more proof the professor had his hand in dark forces."

Keith cast his sharp, investigative journalist eyes about. "We'll just have to search at random. We may as well start here."

*****

Jamie looked at the clock. It was now five o'clock and it was gradually becoming dark outside. His heart beat violently in his chest. He and Carolyn had spent a great deal of the evening going through her husband's notes.

Carolyn felt utterly helpless. This should be a time of celebrating Jamie's return, instead, the tables had been turned and Foxy was the one in danger.

"It's amazing," she said, her blue eyes glittering. "You and Foxy finding each other again."

"He's everything to me," Jamie replied, his voice breaking. He gripped a sheaf of papers in frustration. "This is getting us nowhere. There's not a word in here about where the coven might be. We don't have time for this." He got up and moved around the sitting-room restlessly. "Fox is out there somewhere and here I am falling apart."

Carolyn went to him quickly and put a comforting arm about his shoulders. "You've been wonderful, Jamie. Please don't worry. I know that everything's going to be okay."

Needing a few moments alone, Jamie excused himself and slipped inside the bedroom. Walking by an antique dresser, Jamie caught sight of his flushed face and bloodshot eyes. He quickly dashed tears from his cheeks. No, he would not give up, he told himself. He would not lose Fox and he would not spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. Azathoth wasn't going to win again.

With renewed fighting determination he went to the four poster bed. Jamie upended his duffel bag, shedding his clothes all over the comforter. Then he hurried into the tiny kitchen with it. Rummaging through the drawers, he started to fill the bag with anything useful he could lay his hands on. When he found out where Mulder was, he had to be ready.

Moving back into the sitting-room, he silently dropped the bag, pushing it under a table beside the door. Carolyn glanced up. He half-smiled innocently and pushed his hands into his pockets.

"You've got to eat something, Jamie," she said in her best, motherly tone.

To appease her, he forced down a few mouthfuls of sandwich and took a swig of tea.

She gently led him back to the sofa. "There has to be something we're missing," she said. "We've just got to find out where they perform their ceremonies."

"I wish it was as easy as it sounds." Jamie sighed, exasperated. He'd been over the notes more times than he cared to count. "It's got to be somewhere local. It's no coincidence that the coven are holding their ceremony during a full moon."

"The moon will be full at midnight!"

"I know. They couldn't have taken him very far."

Carolyn sat up, a glint in her eye. "Holy ground," she muttered. "What we need is a large scale map of the area," she suggested.

"Right," said Jamie, coming to his feet like a spring and searching a nearby table's drawers. "Yes!" he found a number of maps grouped together for tourists. He opened one up and spread it across the coffee table in front of Carolyn. She scanned her section of notes, then peered at the map.

A light knocking at the door made them both reflexively jump. Jamie went to answer it, and found Dr. Kitzseiger waiting on the threshold. Cloaked and hooded, she appeared calm and relaxed. She swept into the room and dropped a fresh set of occult books onto the coffee table, much to Carolyn's chagrin.

"Where are the others?" she enquired, removing her hood.

"They're checking out Tiamat's house," Carolyn replied, brushing the books away from the map. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked, as an after thought.

"Please." Kitzseiger dropped down into a cushioned arm chair. "I spent the afternoon in the professor's old office."

"Have you found anything?" Jamie asked, shakily pouring her a cup of tea.

She gave one of her acid smiles. "The professor left some relics in the parapsychology department. They were marked as coming from Boscombe Moor in Damnonium."

"Where's that?"

"On the coast, I'm afraid."

"No." Jamie shook his blonde head. "My gut is telling me they're nearby." He picked up one of the books she'd brought. "Anything in your books that might pinpoint their location?"

"That's something they've kept a well-hidden secret."

He returned to his study of the papers, noticing for the first time a sheet stuck at the bottom. "This is curious," he said slowly, after a while.

Dr. Kitzseiger looked up. "What?"

"According to this, the Order of Dathomir has always been headed by women. Have you noticed? Even back in the middle ages."

Kitzseiger shrugged. "What does that prove? I dismissed that theory long ago."

Jamie ignored her. "It was always women. It even says here that Dathomir was percieved as female."

"What are you suggesting, Jamie?" she asked scornfully. "That Professor Henric Tiamat is actually a woman?" She gave a short laugh.

"Then maybe he isn't the head," said Jamie steadily. He turned to eagerly watch Carolyn methodically scanning the map for black oblongs.

"What is she looking for?" Kitzseiger asked curiously.

"A coven's power is increased by hallowed ground," Carolyn answered, her eyes never leaving the map.

"That's right. We know the revivication will take place on holy ground."

Jamie's eyes lit up with realization. "Churches!"

Carolyn looked up, beaming cleverly.

"Do you have any idea how many churches there are in Oxford?" Kitzseiger asked, setting down her tea. "We'd have to cover a lot of ground."

Jamie's face clouded a little.

Carolyn went back to studying the map. "If the coven is going to carry out a human sacrifice, they won't be doing it in St. Paul's."

"Ruined churches!" Jamie exclaimed, jumping on Carolyn's thought train.

Kitzseiger narrowed her eyes. "Could be. Yes, I suppose the Order might very well be held up on disused hallowed ground."

"I count at least three in or around Oxford University," Carolyn told them.

Jamie grabbed the map excitedly. "What are we waiting for? Let's go and take a look then!"

"Hold it, Jamie!" Carolyn objected. "We should wait for the others." She didn't fancy rushing off without her husband. Picking up her cell phone, she dialled his number.

"We don't know when they'll be back," Jamie protested. "It's already getting dark out there. I'll go alone if I have to."

OUT OF THE CALLING AREA read the LCD display. Carolyn looked up at him. "No." Her voice was troubled. "You can't go alone. You need someone to watch your back."

"I can take him."

Both Jamie and Carolyn turned to look at Dr. Kitzseiger with surprised expressions.

"That would be fantastic!" Jamie smiled, approvingly.

Kitzseiger rubbed her palms together. "We must get there immediately. Before the ceremony begins."

"Jamie, I still think you should wait," cautioned Carolyn.

Jamie took her gently by the hand and gazed into her eyes. "I promise to just go and have a look. If I see anything suspicious, we'll head back here, okay? By that time your husband and my friends should be back."

She frowned. Thinking it over, Jamie's argument made sense. She couldn't spot any holes in it. But still, it made Carolyn uneasy. "All right," she told him, pressing a swift kiss on his cheek. "But for heaven's safe, be careful!"

Jamie gave her a quick hug and sprinted through the door. Carolyn watched him go with a heavy heart.

"You musn't worry. I'll be sure to look after him," Kitzseiger reassured the agitated woman, sweetly.

Carolyn crossed to the fireplace and shivered. She closed her eyes and said a little prayer. Looking back at the door, she tried to dial Keith once more. What she hadn't noticed was that Jamie's duffel bag was missing.

*****

Some time later, Walter, Alex and Keith were still searching the manor. Even more books and papers were scattered about than before, and every drawer had been emptied.

"It's hopeless," said Krycek. "We don't even know what we're looking for. We could've already seen it and not recognized it."

Keith grimaced his agreement. He hated to think this trip had been for nothing.

Walter marched into the altar room and said impatiently, "Well?"

"I can't find anything earlier than 1800," Keith replied, waving at the books. "How about you?"

"Nothing. No references to a meeting place or the coven. It's like the professor was covering his tracks."

Just then Keith's cell phone jingled to the tune of "Dancing Queen." As he answered it, he listened to his wife's concerned voice. "Carolyn," he said steadily. "Calm down and tell me what's going on."

Moving toward his frustrated Russian lover, Walter wrapped him up in his strong, muscular arms. "I can't believe this is happening," he admitted.

Alex nodded and kicked out at drawer sitting on the floor. "What are we going to tell--" He broke off as Keith gave a sharp intake of breath.

"Jamie did what?!"

Skinner quickly took the phone and listened with a sense of foreboding as Carolyn told him where their impulsive friend had gone. Handing it back to Keith, Walter felt the same angry fire he always got when Mulder would race Scully off to who-knew-where.

"Walter, what's wrong?" asked Alex, seeing the older man turn red about the ears.

He took a deep breath, recalling his relaxation exercises. "Jamie and Dr. Kitzseiger have gone off to look at all the ruined churches in the area."

Krycek snorted. "Makes sense. At least it'll give him something to do."

"But Jamie won't--"

"Jamie can take care of himself. Even if he is crazy." His words came slowly because something on the floor had caught Alex's attention. He knelt beside the drawer he'd kicked and snatched at a couple of photographs stuck in a corner. Bright green eyes widened with first surprise, then shock. "Shit!" he exclaimed.

*****

The sun had just set; the last traces of burnt orange and magenta were fading, and the first stars appeared. Time was running out.

Having searched two of the ruined churches, with no luck, Dr. Kitzseiger drove her little yellow sports car along toward their next destination.

Jamie peered at the map spread across his knees with a penlight. "What does a simple cross mean?" he wondered. The symbol stood on the third ruin.

"A sort of church," she crisply replied. "A private chapel. That's a ruin at the university."

"What?!" exclaimed Jamie. Had it been under his nose the entire time? "Why should it be a place of Augury?"

"Hallowed ground that's never deconsecrated is prime for ceremonies," she lectured. "Surely you've heard the ghost legends of Oxford?"

"All too well," he replied, gloomily.

"Strange robed figures flitting through the trees waving curved knives in the air." She sniffed and shook her head. "All very unhistoric."

Jamie thought she dismissed this too quickly. If the coven were residing in this ruined church, it made the pieces fall perfectly into place.

Before long Kitzseiger turned onto the university grounds. Fifteen miles along they'd left the sprawling buildings and dormortories behind. They were nearly there. Jamie's heart pounded furiously.

Passing through a set of old rusted gates, the car headed five miles into a thick section of trees. Finally the secluded ruins came into view.

Leaving the headlights on to light their way, they stepped out and hurried along a footpath that ran beside the river. The stone-built church was tucked back from the winding road. Jamie looked at the sunken fifteenth-century building and trembled with excitement and fear. As they drew nearer, the worn, lichen-covered gargoyles took on ugly, sinister shapes.

Jamie sniffed the air. The pleasant, autumnal smell of wood burning floated faintly on the breeze. He paused before the delapidated church. Vines and bramble had grown up along the grey stones, obscuring the door from plain sight. Slinging the duffel bag over his right shoulder, he rushed forward recklessly.

"They must have a fire," he said. Peering through hairline fractures, he spotted an orange glow.

"It's part of the ceremony," Kitzseiger confirmed.

Jamie shuddered. On impulse, he tried the old wooden door. To his surprise, it creaked open.

"Jamie!" Dr. Kitzseiger hissed a warning, but he did not heed it. More determined and persistent than ever, he ducked inside.

"Here we are," he whispered. "This has to be it. I'm sure this is the place."

Kitzseiger caught up with him. "We can't stop this ritual alone."

"If we wait this whole thing could go down and Mulder could die!" Jamie stared at her for a moment before turning and heading down an arched hallway.

She exhaled and followed him. With Kitzseiger in tow, Jamie moved along the stone floor, and beneath a cracked ceiling supported by great oak beams, blackened with age.

Cautiously they rounded a corner and found a pair of large curved doors, and a flight of steps leading down, presumably to a cellar. Kitzseiger gingerly headed for the doors. Jamie followed past her into an anteroom and froze. His eyes widened in shock.

Black and silver robed figures were waiting for them.

There was a click from behind as the double doors locked. Jamie whirled around. Out of nowhere more of the coven appeared to block his escape. Kitzseiger wore a mocking smile.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that you shouldn't trust everyone?!"

She threw back her head and gave a peal of terrifying, mad, laughter.

[Next Episode: Dust To Dust]

---

TITLE: Surfacing Chapter Twelve: The Black Art
AUTHOR: Chad Moore
FANDOM: XF
DATE: December 11th, 2001
SERIES: Dangerous Undercurrents and Conundrum
E-MAIL: Mulderholic@webtv.net
RATING: PG13 (Chapter 12)
CATEGORY: M/O
ARCHIVE: Yes, please
KEYWORDS: Slash, Romance, Angst, Adventure
WARNINGS: WIP, Violence
SPOILERS: This story takes place after "Existence," with references to past seasons.
DISCLAIMER: All familiar characters belong to CC, 1013 and Fox TV; any others were conceived in my warped imagination. Azathoth and the Great Old Ones are creations of HP Lovecraft, and are now the property of Arkham House. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter was inspired by "Buffy The Vampire Slayer".
BETA READER: Bertie. Due to several last-minute changes and additions, any mistakes are my own.
EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS: To Goddess Michele.

---

Chapter Twelve: The Black Art

Hidden by a ring of dark trees, the ruins of the Oxford church were bathed in the light of a fast rising moon.

Torches appeared, and Jamie froze in horror. He bit back a gasp. Behind him stood a row of silver-robed men with watchful eyes. Dr. Kitzseiger stood facing him, arms folded, a sneer on her thin lips.

"What the hell's going on?" shouted Jamie angrily. He felt a pair of hands grip his arms. "What are you doing?"

Kitzseiger's mocking smile spread. "Jamie, quite frankly, you're a fool."

Jamie cast a glance over his shoulder. The hands holding his arms belonged to a familiar strong-looking man: the leader of the raiding party on Skinner's apartment. He was flanked by two other similarly large men: elite Dathomir assassins. One of them had discarded his duffel bag full of make-shift weapons against a wall. If only he could reach it ... The tight grip increased, and Jamie had no doubt the man would break his arm if he tried to move.

"So the little hero is alone and outnumbered." Kitzseiger spoke to him in an icy voice. "You cannot hope to stop the will of Dathomir."

Jamie tried to understand. One minute they had been on their way to stop the ritual, and the next everything had gone mad. "How?" he demanded furiously.

She laughed. There was no trace of the helpful lady now. "Oh, my dear, it was easy to convince you all I was the prim Dr. Kitzseiger." She smiled a cold, dreadful smile. "What I liked most is how helpful you all were, leading us straight to Fox Mulder."

"But, the assassins--they attacked you! Why didn't you just clear off with them when you had the chance?"

"They've never seen the true face of their high priestess, until today. All it took was a simple suggestion from Dathomir."

*****

By the time Krycek, Skinner and Keith returned to the Rose Cottage hotel, they were flushed and sweaty.

Carolyn clenched her palms, stood from the sofa and worriedly paced the sitting-room for the third time. Why had she let Jamie and the doctor go off? She gave a startled cry as the door burst open and her husband and Jamie's friends tumbled inside.

"Finally! You're back!" Carolyn said, hugging Keith.

"Have you heard from Jamie?" asked Krycek feverishly.

"No."

"Have you found out where they're going to perform this sacrifice?" Walter's worried voice asked quickly.

Carolyn looked alarmed. "What's wrong? I was right. Jamie's in trouble, isn't he?"

"More than you can possibly imagine," Skinner replied with a heavy sigh.

Keith pressed something into her hand. "Take a look at that."

She peered at the old photographs. "It's Dr. Kitzseiger, but who is the man?"

"Our friend, the elusive Professor Tiamat."

*****

An elderly man wearing ebony robes with silver piping stepped forward. "The time is near," he informed Kitzseiger. Another smile played across the woman's lips.

Jamie's blood was boiling. How could he have been so blind? The first attack: the assassins had tried to kill him and gone straight for Fox; Kitzseiger's willingness to help and her interest in Mulder; how quickly the assassins had tracked them down to Skinner's apartment ... He had been used. They'd all been used. Twisted and manipulated into doing what Kitzseiger wanted. He felt his stomach lurch sickeningly from the terrible truth.

"You took us all for a ride," he accused bitterly.

She gave a mocking, triumphant laugh. "Destiny is at hand. Accept it."

"Get this creep off me and I'll show you destiny!" Jamie retorted through gritted teeth.

"Destiny," she repeated. "Mine, yours, Mulder's." She licked her lips, relishing the moment. "When his blood flows Azathoth will rise and my power will be restored."

"What are you gonna do? Gloat me to death?" Jamie stuck out his chin, defiantly. "Killing him won't help you! We're all going to die the second Azathoth comes back."

"I shall put myself among the gods!" Kitzseiger shot back arrogantly, her eyes flashing fire. "Don't you see? Don't you understand? I am Dathomir!"

Jamie stared in sick dismay. He realized she was quite simply mad.

*****

Carolyn looked up thoughtfully. "She never mentioned knowing Tiamat this well."

"There's a lot the doctor failed to mention," Walter said gloomily.

She bit her lip. "Poor Foxy and now Jamie." She felt an ache in her throat. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should've never let him go off like that."

If it weren't for the looming danger, Krycek could have laughed at the irony. He'd like to see someone try and keep a determined Jamie Grayson in one place.

"I know." Keith's voice was gentle. "It's not your fault."

"We'll get him back," Skinner reassured her. "We'll get them both back."

Keith cleared his throat. "That's that then."

"What?" Carolyn stared at her husband. "Do you mean there's more?"

"Oh, there's more. We've stumbled onto something big." He turned to Walter. "Will you fill her in? I've got to make a phone call."

"You're working?" Carolyn sputtered. "At a time like this?"

"Not exactly," he said. "I think it's time we found out everything we can about Dr. Kitzseiger."

While Keith left the room to make his call, Walter swiftly explained. He still shook with rage. Kitzseiger had played them all like pawns in a chess game. She'd obviously already had her assassins planted because of the wire tap on his phone, then she conveniently calls offering to help.

"She was in on this the whole time," Carolyn whispered, gazing at the wrinkled pictures in her hands, trying to take it in.

Walter nodded grimly. "I was sure we could trust her." He'd never misjudged anyone this badly since...

"I didn't." Krycek looked ready to pounce at any moment. From the moment he'd first met Kitzseiger, he'd had a certain feeling about her. The same itch at the back of his neck that he always felt in Spender's presence.

"Do you think we should go to the police?" Carolyn suggested, her eyes starting to pool. "Maybe Inspector Miller would be willing to help?"

Alex shook his head. "The police can't help with this. It's out of their depth." His green eyes narrowed. "Come on. We need to find out where Jamie went," he pointed out.

Carolyn brushed tears from her eyes, then moved toward a drawer and took out another tourist map. "There were three ruined churches," she explained, and spread it across the coffee table.

"Show me," Alex prompted. He glanced at his watch. "We only have a couple of hours left."

*****

Tiamat barged through the doors and into the enormous nave of the chapel. He walked up the main aisle, past row upon row of weather-worn pews, carrying a burning incense censer. Close behind, three of the assassins escorted a wildly struggling Jamie who's eyes widened as he took in the scene. The whole place reeked of ceremonial sacrifice.

Flaming torches flickered, giving the air a slightly foggy look. Between tall ionic columns stood long, steel poles where blood red tapestries hid the cracked stained-glass windows all round. He noticed that some were painted with symbols, a few with depictions of Azathoth's monstrous shape, but the others gave form to a frightening image: a bird-like woman with outstretched claws.

A bonfire blazed off to the left. Even where he stood, Jamie could feel its heat on his face. As he watched, a ring of men and women in black robes clasped hands and formed a circle around it. Their expressions were glazed.

They were just sheep, Jamie thought. Mindless, willing sheep.

In low voices, a chant rose and fell, the flow of the fire seemed to pulse in time with it. One of the coven stepped forward and tossed on an armful of mistletoe. A shower of sparks leaped toward the open ceiling, and the air quickly filled with a sharp piney scent.

At the far end of the chapel stood a large stone platform, atop which sat an altar decorated in branches covered with glossy green leaves. Four of the silver-robed elite were positioned beside it, guarding... Jamie drew in his breath sharply. Huge, hulking white bones sat gleaming in the torchlight. All that remained of his tormentor, the Great Old One, Azathoth. Jamie shivered. The bones radiated a cold malevolence it seemed only he could feel.

His eyes swept back over the chamber, then stopped on a tall, imposing figure in a white robe. It was Kitzseiger. Her hair was pinned up and she held a strange bird-like feathered mask in her gloved, taloned hands. She stood with her eyes closed and her face turned up toward the ceiling. Jamie felt a new chill crawl down his spine. Kitzseiger suddenly looked exactly like the hanging tapestry images.

Tiamat set the censer down on the altar and picked up a sacrificial blade. Reverently he placed it in Kitzseiger's hands. She pressed the curved athame to her lips. Then Kitzseiger strode up the aisle and moved over to Jamie.

"Didn't realize this was a costume party," he sarcastically remarked.

She took a step forward angrily and struck him across the face. He recoiled in pain.

"Insolent boy!" She smiled cruelly at the livid red scratches on his cheek. "How fitting that your blood should flow first," she sneered.

Jamie felt the chill spread down his arms. The chanting of the coven grew in volume.

Turning to face the altar, Kitzseiger ordered: "Prepare the sacrifice!"

One of the elite started pulling on a thick rope, and a ritual stretcher of hazelwood was lowered from the ceiling. As it descended to hover a few feet over the altar Jamie turned arctic cold at the sight of Mulder.

Jamie's face crumpled as he stared at his lover, so close he could almost touch him.

In nightmare detail, his eyes took in Mulder's naked body--the silky sheen of his skin annointed and glistening with perfumed oil--suspended directly above Azathoth's bones. He was bound hand and foot, his head hanging and unconscious over the remains. On one temple was a swelling purple bruise. He was very pale.

Jamie's heart skipped a beat. His knees almost gave out from under him. "Fox," he whispered.

"Don't worry," Kitzseiger smirked. "In another few minutes he'll be dead, not that you'll live long enough to see it."

A great sigh of ecstasy went up from the worshipping circle. Jamie was trapped in his worst nightmare. He could feel tears of anger and frustration welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

'Oh, God. How can this be happening?' he thought, bewildered, lost. 'I don't understand ... Fox, I'm so sorry.' He tugged desperately against the hands holding him, but they were astonishingly strong.

"No, don't struggle," Kitzseiger purred. "Don't make me kill you ... just yet." She turned to the older high priest. "At exactly midnight the moon will reach its peak. When I make the sacrifice," she looked hard at Jamie, "slit his throat."

Professor Tiamat bowed, honored to spill blood in the name of Azathoth and his high priestess. He anxiously rested a hand on the dagger at his belt.

Kitzseiger donned her Dathomir mask and moved away. As she majestically took her place behind the altar, a tense hush fell. Even the crackling of the fire seemed to fade in intensity.

At the stone, the priestess stretched out her arms. Her high, clear voice rang through the chapel. "Behold, this mortal. Witness to the Old One's death. The blood that pours from his throat will bring new life to the Old One. We gather under the moon for his rebirth. Ay-ai, ay-ai, Azathoth!"

"Ay-ai, ay-ai, Azathoth!" the coven chorused. High above the moon appeared, full and high. It was exactly midnight.

Jamie's anguished eyes locked on Mulder. "No!" he cried, lunging forward. "Stop this! Please!" The hands on his arms yanked him back. Tiamat drew his dagger and advanced on Jamie.

Kitzseiger grabbed a handful of Mulder's hair and pulled his head further down, exposing his throat. With her other taloned hand she held the athame. "From his unworthy blood..."

"Blood," the coven chanted.

"...Azathoth shall rise again!"

"Again!"

She raised the blade toward the moon. "And through him Dathomir, his most impious, faithful servant, will be restored!"

"Restored!"

With one swift stroke Kitzseiger stabbed downward. A flash of lightning crackled across the cloudless sky.

"No!" Jamie screamed in agony.

Suddenly there was a sound of a door bursting open. Something skimmed like an arrow across the chamber and buried into Kitzseiger's raised arm. She gave a shriek of pain and the athame dropped from her paralyzed fingers.

Jamie whipped around in time to see a fist connecting with the back of the two flanking guards, then the elite leader's head. He groaned and fell to the floor, pushing Jamie into Tiamat and knocking him down.

The other elite guards and the black-clad coven stared about in confusion.

A.D. Walter Skinner massaged his fist and surveyed his handiwork littered at his feet. By his side Krycek gave a growl, ready to fight. They wasted no time running over to meet Jamie.

Jamie gasped, unable to believe his eyes. "Alex! Walter!" he exclaimed, relief shining on his face.

"We were just passing by and thought you could use some help," Krycek replied, wearing a wide grin.

Behind them Carolyn and Keith--carrying what appeared to be a bat--followed inside. Carolyn gave a horrified scream.

"Blasphemers!" Tiamat cried. "Dathomir's glory will not be denied!" As the older man got up, Alex grabbed him by the front of his robes. "Deny this!" shouted Jamie and he decked him.

"Nice," replied Skinner, full of admiration.

Then, with no hesitation, the elite guards surrounding the altar left their post and rushed forward. Kitzseiger was shouting, her face twisted with fury. An ordinary kitchen knife found in Jamie's duffel bag and thrown by Krycek had pierced her skin. She aimed a finger at the intruders. "Get them, you fools! Get them before they ruin everything!"

Jamie saw the guards coming for them and led them away at a run. He wound around through the pews. The elite coven guards were big and bulky compared to his slim figure darting through the maze, but they managed to keep up. Jamie saw a pole jutting out of the floor and grabbed onto it, swung around once and knocked one of the guards out with an aerial side kick. Jamie let go of the pole and started to run again.

Meantime as the three fallen elite regained their feet, Krycek threw a roundhouse kick, striking them all across the face. As if possessed the Elite Leader quickly got up. Skinner, like a wall of angry muscle, charged to face the man who'd lead the attack on his home. The guard leader extended his arms down, and a blade slid out from each sleeve.

One of the coven bold enough broke the circle and started to reach for Krycek when something heavy crashed against his head. The cultist fell while Keith looked on, still holding the cricket bat.

Across the room, Skinner and the guard leader started to fight hand-to-hand. The man thrust first one blade, then the other at Walter, but Skinner was a man well versed in the art of fighting in the ring, and he caught his arms and held them up while he kneed the guard in the stomach. Walter followed up with a kick to his face that sent the winded man stumbling back into the wall.

The assassin felled earlier by Jamie recovered also, and Keith rushed to engage him. He swung his prized bat at him, but the other man grabbed it, and they struggled over it. Keith swung at his opponent and hit him squarely in the face. With a cry Carolyn jumped up onto the assassin's back and started choking him with her arm.

"Come on!" she shouted. "Get him!"

Keith punched the assassin twice while Carolyn kept holding on.

Krycek jumped over another guard when he tried to knock his legs out from under his. He whipped round for another roundhouse kick, but he blocked it. Krycek used the momentum of the block to spin around and hit the guard again.

Jamie dashed for the back of the room when Skinner called in a low, urgent voice: "Jamie!"

After a moment the guard leader regained his feet and struck out at Jamie. The blades swept out, but Jamie ducked out of the way. He blocked a punch from the leader, and another, and held his arm while Jamie punched him twice in the face. He grabbed the man's silver robe, pulled him around and, full of raging defiance, he threw him over several pews and back into the wall. Taking a deep breath, he rounded a corner and came face to face with his friend.

"We've gotta do something now!" Walter exclaimed.

Jamie didn't need to be told twice. He cast a look toward the altar. "The ritual's not finished and it's not gonna be," he panted. "Get Fox out of here."

"We'll need a distraction," Krycek said, joining them.

Jamie nodded. "Right."

Skinner saw the elite advancing down the aisle. "What are you gonna do?"

Jamie looked around and saw the coming danger. He smiled grimly. "Distract them."

He sprinted forward. Suddenly a guard jumped in his path, dagger in hand. Jamie swung a backhand punch at his head, but he blocked it and shoved his arm out of the way. He punched Jamie and he stumbled a little with a gasp but recovered in time to duck his opponent's second swing at his head. With a powerful side kick to his rear, Jamie sent him head first into a pew. Racing by the other elite, he headed for the altar hoping they would follow. Jamie reached the platform, shoulder rolled onto it and quickly rose, taking up a fighting stance.

Powered by determination and a furious strength he almost couldn't control, Jamie started to fight his first pursuer, who jumped up onto the stage and tried a backhand swing at Jamie with a dagger, but he swiftly ducked and blocked his second swing. He glanced up. Mulder was only a few feet away. If he could keep the assassins occupied long enough, his friends could...

The guard kicked up with his knee and hit Jamie in the stomach, winding him. A second punch made Jamie fall to the floor. He took a swing at Jamie's head, but Jamie clamped his hands around his opponent's legs, yanking him up and over. He slammed down hard onto his shoulder and rolled off of the platform.

Another guard advanced, but Jamie swiftly hit him in the head with a full spinning out-to-in crescent kick. He took the blow hard and fell off of the platform. Still another guard took a swing at Jamie's legs with his knife, but he jumped high to avoid the swing. Jamie flashed his arm into the guard's face, knocking him down. As he tried to get up, Jamie knocked him down again with a snapping roundhouse kick to his arm, kicking his dagger away in the process. The guard got back to his feet.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Jamie remarked, lashing out in an uppercut, striking him in the jaw and sending him flying off of the platform in a backflip. Before Jamie could catch his breath, yet another guard jumped up onto the platform and tackled him.

With the guards firmly focused on Jamie, Alex and Walter seized the opportunity to climb behind the platform to the altar above to get Mulder off of the stretcher.

Shielded by two of the elite, Kitzseiger sat huddled on the floor nursing her wounded arm. She looked up in time to see Krycek and Skinner pulling on the rope, bringing Mulder back over to the platform. "The sacrifice!" she screamed. "Stop them!" The two guards instantly obeyed the command and ran forward.

Jamie continued to fight ferociously as Alex and Walter kept pul