Chapter 7

We stopped off at the bar before making it to the Dojo; I wanted to pick up the picture for Duncan. Jarod didn’t quite understand why I wanted to give a copy to him, but he’d live without the immediate knowledge. If I could convince Duncan to confide in him, he’d get the joke.

Stepping into the Dojo just as the rain started to fall, I was glad to see that the front windows had been replaced and electricity restored. The Dojo was back in business. Word was out and a few guys were already at the weights with others sparing in pairs on the mats. Shaking the few drops of rain off my jacket, I left Jarod at the entrance and headed to the office, peaking around the door to see if Duncan was around.

The large windows for the office still hadn’t been replaced, but a considerate soul had covered the gap with plywood. Putting down the picture so Duncan would see it when he came in, I went to find Richie. Tracking him down in the change room, I found out that Duncan was still asleep. So much for instant resolution.

As we waited, we decided we might as well get some exercise in while we were there. Fortunately I still had a change of clothes there. Coming out in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, with my knee wrapped, I started warming up and waited for Richie to find something that would fit Jarod.

A minute later they came out with Jarod in a pair of Duncan’s sweat pants, though they were a little short, and a tank top. He looked. . . very good. Really nice. . . definition. Clamping down on my errant thoughts, I watched as he joined me on the mat, a few of the regulars looking at this new guy with pity. One of them was still limping from the last time I was challenged to a friendly fight.

"Why do I have the feeling that everyone’s pitying me." Jarod stretched out his arms while watching the rest of the room out of the corner of his eyes. And he accused me of never relaxing.

"They are. I have a bit of a reputation here." I shook out my legs and bent over to stretch out my hamstrings.

"Shall we put on a good show for them then?" He grinned at me as I looked up at him from between my legs. I stood up and was ready to go.

"Why not. So how much do you know?" I didn’t want to be completely unfair. Besides, I had a feeling he’d pick this up rather fast.

"I’ve picked up a little here and there." He was grin grew larger as he set up a defensive posture.

"Let’s play then." My smile matched his, as I just stood relaxed, hands on my hips.

"No rules?" he asked, his stance relaxing marginally.

"Well, let’s just say I’ll be nice." Then my hand lashed out at his face.

He blocked it easily and replied with a swing of his leg to trip me. Jumping over it, I returned the favor and caught him in the back of the knee. He didn’t go down, but it left him open and he caught one in the ribs. I gave him a few seconds to recover. He didn’t really need them, but it gave him a chance to sort out what I’d done. I wouldn’t be able to do it again.

Twenty minutes later, Jarod had picked up a fair bit and I was nicely warmed up. Stopping for a break and to fill up my water bottle, I wondered how long it would take the errant Scotsman to get up. It was close to mid afternoon now and if Duncan didn’t get up soon, I was going to go get him. And I wouldn’t be nice about it either.

You never quite realize just how many possibilities there are to annoy an Immortal that aren’t feasible otherwise, unless you sit and think about it. My fun, however, was spoiled when Duncan finally came down in the elevator a few moments later, the old machine groaning crankily as it settled on the main floor.

"Took you long enough to get your butt out of bed." I went and stood next to Jarod, watching with interest as Duncan tried to ignore us. He gave up when I sprayed him with a water bottle and he gave me an icy look before he said anything.

"Why is the cop here?" Duncan woke up on the wrong side of his rock this morning.

"Be nice, he’s here to help." I said sweetly; might as well get this meeting off and rolling. "And actually, he’s not really a cop." Jarod didn’t look too impressed with my confession. Tough.

"Why tell me that?" Duncan wasn’t too bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning.

"Cause I want you to tell him." Waiting for the following reaction, I wasn’t disappointed. At least he was awake enough to clue in what I meant by that.

"Are you crazy?" He pulled me a few feet away from Jarod so we could have a bit more privacy.

"No. I think he should know." This was going pretty much like I expected it to.

"I don’t know him and I don’t trust him." He said that like he expected me to leave it at that. I thought he knew better than that by now. Then again, I didn’t know myself too well, so I shouldn’t be too surprised.

"Everything that’s happened is raising more and more questions. I think between the two of you we can figure out some of what’s happening. Jarod knows some parts and you know some parts. I don’t understand what is going on, Duncan," I looked up at him, hating the pleading note that crept in while begging him with my eyes because I didn’t really know what else I could do. "I think this is all connected somehow. You don’t know why that guy came after you, do you?"

"That was a personal matter." He looked at me harshly and his narrowed eyes took on a dangerous gleam. A lesser person might have withered from that glare.

"Listen! There are too many coincidences. There’s something here that we aren’t seeing and I think it has something to do with me." I was getting desperate.

"You have a rather high opinion of yourself." His wisecrack and sarcastic grin got under my skin and my temper flared. I took a deep breath and tried not to give in to feelings of mass destruction and violent deaths.

"I am trying to figure out what is happening around me and why. If you don’t want to help, fine." I turned away and walked onto the mat. "Hey Richie, want to spar?" I almost winced at the sharp bite in my voice.

Throwing an accusing look to where Jarod was going through the motions of a throw, Duncan followed me.

"Why?" He reached forward to grab my arm. I slapped it out of the way. Hard.

"Why what?" I turned to face him, still trying to control my temper.

"Why should I tell him." He was giving me my opening and I wasn’t about to let it pass.

"The body was no coincidence. The Feds getting called in was no coincidence. Jarod being here is no coincidence. MY being here is no coincidence! The only problem is I can’t put the pieces together because I can’t remember. I need the two of you to work together to figure this out. And to do that there can’t be any secrets." I looked Duncan in the eyes, daring him not to believe me.

"I must be nuts," he said. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

"Somehow this involves Immortals. I need your help to explain this to Jarod. And Jarod needs to explain some things to you." I said, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind at the last minute.

"Fine. When?" Duncan looked annoyed, but he’d agreed and I couldn’t have told Jarod about Immortals without his permission.

"Why not now?" I wasn’t that sweaty.

"Upstairs. But have a shower first." His eyes softened this, but I still shot him a quick glare. So maybe I was a little sweatier than I thought.

"Thanks Duncan. This means a lot to me." Heading off the mat, I told Jarod the news and then went to change, both excited and scared about what the future held for me.

***

Dana pulled off her surgical mask and looked at the body in front of her. He was right, damn it. No signs of aging; this man had a set of lungs to kill for and a very healthy heart to go along with a very healthy everything else. There were a few marks around the neck that indicated some level of electrical disturbance, but that could be explained by the storm. A very localized storm. A very-very localized storm. A very. . .

She’d been looking at the dead body too long. Ripping off the gloves and throwing them into a garbage bin, she turned off the recorder and went to find Mulder. Finding him in the office they’d been assigned, she sat down and told him what she found. He nodded, pretty much hearing what he expected to hear.

"Any burns?" he prompted.

"Yes, there were some indications of electrical burns localized at the cut site on the neck." Slipping off her pumps, she rubbed her aching feet. She should have changed into a pair of runners earlier, but they were at the hotel and she didn’t feel like going all the way there just for a more comfortable pair of shoes. She should start carrying a pair in her bag. That meant a bigger bag but the cost it would save her on ruined dress shoes should even things out.

"Earth to Scully." Mulder interrupted her and she realized she’d totally ignored whatever he’d said.

"Huh?" Yup. She wasn’t exactly with it today.

"You fazed out there for a few minutes. I was starting to wonder if I should put a stopwatch in your pocket." Mulder and stopwatches.

"It’s the whole tired after lunch thing. Thank you very much for that by the way. The tempura was wonderful." She pulled her thoughts out of the clouds and focused on the conversation at hand.

"As I was asking when you phased out, I talked with one of the officers who started this investigation. He tried to take some prints off of a glass that Jane used, but couldn’t lift one." It wasn’t admissible in court, but that didn’t stop people when all they were looking for was information.

"Where they all smudged?" she asked.

"No, forensics picked up traces of oil, but no discernible prints." Mulder had a faint, knowing smirk on his face. He was baiting her again.

"Isn’t that the same as smudged?" She knew it wasn’t, but her brain wasn’t even in first gear yet and this gave her a chance to catch up.

"Not quite. It makes you wonder, what kind of person has no fingerprints?" His smirk grew larger.

She paused a moment, trying to think of what circumstances required a lack of identification and where gloves weren’t really an option. "Do you think she’s a part of this cult?"

"Running around with a sword to become the supreme leader by beheading all rivals? It’s possible. Then again, she could be involved with the mob, or a high-class cat burglar. Maybe special ops, or how about an alien?" He said, wagging his eyebrows as he did so, making her choke as she tried not to laugh.

"You’re the believer, not me." She regretted saying that as soon as it left her mouth, as she watched his face fall.

"Used to be Scully, used to be." There was a note of regret that rang through his statement, like he was mourning the loss of his belief.

"How about we ask her then?"

"Any ideas as too where we could find her?" Mulder jumped on the change in subject.

"How about Joe’s Bar?" Putting her pumps back on, Dana promised herself a pair of comfortable shoes next time she needed a new pair. Going by past experience, it should only take about another week.

***

Men!

Duncan decided to be dramatic about. He couldn’t just tell Jarod he was Immortal and slice open his palm or something to make the point. No! He had to go and stab himself with a kitchen knife and kill himself by hitting a major artery. At least he had the sense to do it where there was hardwood on the floor. I didn’t even want to think about how hard it is to get blood out of carpet.

Jarod totally freaked out and went into full paramedic mode. He also freaked out when the wound closed in on itself before his eyes. I was sorely tempted to help Duncan repeat his performance, but I was going to have a fun time getting the blood that was already there, off of my boots and there was enough blood on the floor as it was. Jarod was worse off, almost covered from head to toe with the dark red splashes. Fortunately, he was still wearing the clothes he’d borrowed.

Apparently, he wasn’t completely overwhelmed by what he’d seen because he’d been pelting Duncan with questions since the guy came to. They covered everything from the Gathering, to Watchers, to the Quickening. Jarod didn’t always like what he heard, but he kept his opinions to himself and at least they were helping clean up the mess. I had just wanted a nice quiet conversation. Not full dramatics.

Grabbing a few more towels out of the bathroom I dumped them beside the two men, watching as they wiped up the evidence. Picking up a pile that was already bloody I dumped them in the bathtub. He could clean them up later. The guys cleaned up the last of the blood and leaving the towels on the floor, sat down with feet propped up on the table. I’d had about enough of this.

"Listen, Duncan," I poked a finger in his direction, "You may be from an age where women cleaned up after the men, but it’s not like that any more. Finish cleaning up your own bloody mess." I didn’t say it on purpose, but it came out anyway and Duncan winced at the bad pun.

Suitably chastised he got up and picked up the last of the towels. I stole his seat and looked at over Jarod. I don’t think anything could phase that guy. He sat there with his eyes all gleaming and just about overflowing with questions.

"Sorry about that. I didn’t think he’d be so dramatic about it." I settled down and started to pull a foot up on the couch. I stopped when I felt that it was still pretty damp.

"It’s fascinating actually. It shouldn’t be possible, but it is." Jarod didn’t let his curiosity over Immortals overshadow everything else and he pinned me with a glance, returning to the reason we came in the first place. "But what does all this have to do with you?"

"I think I knew an Immortal before the explosion. I don’t know exactly who he is, but I couldn’t say anything without talking to Duncan first. And he might know the Immortal. I’d like to show him the surveillance."

"You think the Englishman might be an Immortal?" Jarod clued in right off.

"He’s the only person who comes to mind. I think he was also the one who took me from the Center." I put my last card on the table. Jarod now knew everything I did.

Duncan came back, towels out of sight and we talked things over for a bit. Jarod was going to head back to his apartment to pick up his computer and whatever other information he’d managed to get a hold of. I’d stay here and tell Duncan what I could about the Center’s side of things. Then we’d meet at Joe’s and bring him in. Since he was a Watcher, he might be able to add anything we missed, as well as offer a different perspective.

"But first things first. You might want to change before you leave." I wasn’t about to let the two of them out when they looked like something out of a horror flick. The two of them looked down, embarrassed at their blood-covered clothing, before quickly changing into something else.

Ducking in out of the rain, the two agents shook off their coats and headed into the Martial Arts gym. Walking past the men working out, Scully looked on in appreciation of the view. Mulder was out of luck as she raked over the place with a more critical glance, taking in the hasty repairs and complete lack of women. Before they could step into the office one of the guys at the weights walked towards them, his pleasant Australian accent informing them that Duncan was upstairs. He showed them into the office, made a quick call to Duncan telling him they were there and then left, leaving the door open behind him.

Scully sat down while Mulder stepped behind the desk and rummaged around, looking for who knew what. He stopped and looked at a picture sitting beside the burnt out computer before holding it up for Scully to take a look. It was a picture of Jane sitting in front of Jarod, period dress putting it back at least a hundred years.

"I guess that’s your proof Scully." His smug grin challenging her.

"Not necessarily. It could easily have been faked or it could even be one of those old time photos you get at a carnival. That isn’t exactly concrete evidence." The frame was new, but it was hard to tell anything about the picture with the way that Mulder was waving it around.

"Have you ever noticed that she doesn’t swear?" He put the picture down and started looking at the papers on the desk, most of which turned out to be invoices from electricians and contractors.

"Not until you pointed it out." She didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

"Most women raised during the 1800’s were raised to act as a lady, no swearing or harsh language, in many cases regardless of their original station in life." He looked away from her skeptical look and continued to leaf through the papers on the desk, hoping to come across something that would prove his theory, but not really expecting to find anything.

"I don’t think they were taught how to wield a sword either." She didn’t know which was worse, Mulder’s theory, or the fact that it was starting to make sense for all she tried to disprove it. It fit the facts they had so far. "Or that particular pressure point she used."

"She would have learned that later. If she wanted to stay alive, it would have been essential." He gave up on the desk he went and sat next to Scully, after catching a glimpse through the door of MacLeod as he was coming down the stairs.

"You’re reaching Mulder." She sighed and tried to find an alternative explanation.

"Do you have a better explanation?" He had that smug grin again.

"No, but give me an hour. I’m supposed to refute your theories not come up with my own." They both stood up as Duncan entered the room.

"What can I do for you two today?" Duncan wasn’t impressed; he had more questions about the Center for Jane, but they’d have to wait now.

"We were looking for Jane actually. Do you know where we might find her?" Agent Scully, if his memory served him right, was being polite. Better dealing with her than her partner.

"What is this in regards too?" He didn’t want to say she was upstairs unless he absolutely had to.

"We’d just like to ask her a few questions." Like why she has no fingerprints. Mulder knew that Duncan knew where she was. It was just a matter of getting him to tell them. Or following him.

"I’m not sure if I could contact her right now. If you leave a number where you can be reached, I’ll tell her you were looking for her if I see her anytime soon."

"Please don’t screw with us Mr. MacLeod." Scully cut in, giving him a scathing glance. "Jane wasn’t at Joe’s and if she isn’t here, where else would she be?"

"I really wish I could help you Agent Scully, but I don’t know where she is right now." He was lying through his teeth. She knew it and she knew he knew she knew it. His disarming smile was just confirmation. Standing up, she headed to the office door, Mulder in tow.

"Perhaps later than, Mr. MacLeod." Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a business card, with Mulder’s and her number. "If you could call us when you hear from her?"

"I’ll make sure to let her know you were here." Shaking hands, the two agents left the Dojo, running through the rain to their car. Waiting for Mulder to unlock her door, Scully’s hair got plastered to her skull.

‘Great,’ she thought. ‘I’m gong to end up with frizzy hair.’ Stepping in, she tried to get a hand through the mess.

"Stake out Joe’s?" Mulder was thinking pretty much along the same lines as she was. Maybe the bar would have one of those hot air hand dryers that she could use on her hair.

"Stake out Joe’s."

***

Waiting for Duncan to get back, I wandered the loft looking at all the antiques he’d collected over the years. There was an antique telescope, some figurines, a Native American spear and few other things I had no hope of identifying. Sitting among his treasures, I let the sense of age there seep into my bones. Not everything was older than I was though. Duncan was completely up to date with numerous gadgets cluttering things up, including a high tech sound system that had me drooling.

Moving around, a glint of light caught my eye and I noticed a sculpture off in a corner, not hidden so much as protected. It was no more than a few years old, bronze and silver fashioned together in an intricate dance so that they flowed around each other. Stepping forward, I went for a closer view. I was fascinated by the play of dim light off the lightly polished surface. There wasn’t much form in the piece, but the two tones flowed and blended together tricking the eye into an impression of motion.

Running a finger along one of the strips of silver, I could feel the hands shaping it, heating it, bending it, caressing it into place. This was a piece of someone’s life, made out of her love. A woman had made this. There was a strength hidden in the yielding flows.

"I’ve always loved that piece."

I jumped and swung around, hands coming up automatically. I was surprised to hear Duncan behind me. Should have heard him coming up the stairs. Putting my hands down and trying to ignore my pounding heart, I turned back to the sculpture. "You know who made it?"

"Yes. Tessa." He didn’t give her a last name.

"She was your wife, for a while?" I made it a question, unsure of what I felt from the sculpture.

"She almost was. She died soon after I asked her to marry me." There was regret and still a fair hint of pain in his voice.

"You must have been together for a long time. She made this for you." I turned back to the sculpture, letting its peace fill me again.

"How can you tell?" Duncan was faintly surprised. It was the last piece Tessa had made and he couldn’t bare to sell it when she died. Instead he had packed it away, taking it out only a few months ago.

"It’s the two of you. She’s the silver; you’re the bronze. There’s give and take between the two and in some places they’re indistinguishable, melded together." My fingers brushed the surface of the metal, flowing over the pattern of silver and bronze down to where they joined together. "She was caring and kind, filling some of the hollows in your heart. You’re harder, more corners, more contours. Together, you were whole."

Turning to look at Duncan, I watched him struggle with the grief he was feeling.

"I’m sorry, I should have realized this is a sensitive subject for you." I said.

"That’s okay, it’s good to remember every once in a while." Stepping away we both left the sculpture in the dim light and headed to the door. It was time we made our way to the bar.

Picking up the jacket Jarod lent me, I slipped it on and followed Duncan to retrieve his trench coat from downstairs. Stepping outside, it immediately became apparent that the rain hadn’t stopped as it started soaking into my hair. But the steady drizzle suited both of our moods so we walked the few blocks to Joe’s place.

***

Once at the bar, I wished we drove. The main room was pretty deserted, made even more noticeable by the fact it was Saturday afternoon. Duncan wasn’t too wet and after shacking some of the wetness off his coat, he was presentable. I, however, was drenched.

The coat I’d borrowed wasn’t exactly waterproof. Heading to the back, I quickly changed out of the wet clothes and hung them around the room to dry out, mopping up some of the water trail I’d left. Then I grabbed my hairbrush and headed back up front. I didn’t want to miss anything.

By the time I made it back, Jarod had shown up. Taking over Joe’s desk, he’d set up his laptop to show the images to Duncan and was answering the questions he had left. They both looked up as I entered, but I just sat down across from them and started to attack the mess the elements had made of my hair.

While struggling with the tangles I kept an ear on the conversation. Yanking at one particularly nasty spot, I regretted not brushing it out fully this morning. Fortunately, Jarod took pity on me after a few minutes and volunteered to give me a hand. Duncan just stuck his nose in some of the papers already spread around the desk ignoring us.

Jarod and I just sat there for a few minutes, trying to get the mess untangled, me with my hands and Jarod with the brush. The strands of wet hair were sticking together; the curls that normally straightened out from the weight were twisting around each other and making me wish I had a pair of scissors.

Finally, the worst of the tangles were out of the section I was working on, so I got the brush off of Jarod and pulled it through, watching the water drip off the ends. No matter how much you towel dry, it still manages to do that. Giving the brush back to Jarod, I started on another set of tangles. He had managed to get most of the tangles out of the bottom and was slowly working his way up.

"You were a hair dresser at one point, weren’t you?" I asked. He put the brush aside as he pulled a few strands of hair out of one knot, trying to untangle it before he answered.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not really." Shaking out my head, I ran a hand through the mass that was hanging nearly to my waist. We almost had my hair brushed out and I contemplated leaving it loose.

"At least you don’t lisp," Joe said as he came up behind us. I’d noticed him in the doorway watching us a few minutes before.

"What??" Jarod and I were in unison, looking over at him, as we were both confused by comment. Duncan just had a silent chuckle, having avoided getting drawn into the hair dressing duties. He had enough troubles with his own hair.

"Never mind." Joe sat down with us, watching as I compromised on the hair and simply tied it back in a loose ponytail. "What can I do for you guys?"

"Jarod knows about Duncan." Having just gone through a similar explanation with Duncan, I cut to the chase. "I’m trying to find out who I am, Joe. Jarod has a picture of the guy who might be the Immortal I knew and we’re trying to find out who it is." I flicked a few more drops of water off the ponytail, trying to ignore the spreading damp on my back. "Get comfortable, this could take some time and I need your help."

Chapter 8

Mulder leaned over and nudged his partner. She’d dozed off a few minutes after they settled in outside of the bar, lulled by the rhythmic splatter of rain on the roof of their car. Sitting up, she peered through the water-streaked windows at the figure ducking into the doorway, then shaking his jacket off. Tall, with dark hair and a black leather jacket pinned him as the elusive Jarod Logan.

"Jane and Duncan showed up already, didn’t they?" Wiping the sleep out of her eyes she looked over at her partner, who was spitting some sunflower shells in a plastic glass. She’d started making him do that when she'd sat on one of his discard piles during a stake out.

"About ten minutes ago." His eyes trained on the figure now entering the bar.

"Then Jarod is the last one on your short list to arrive." Dana brushed her hair out of her eyes and finger combed it into place.

"Let’s give it a few more minutes and see who else shows up." He just kept looking out the window at the front door of the bar.

"You just don’t like the music." She kept it light hoping to get Mulder to relax some.

"I don’t like the people." He said that with a dry tone that belayed his confusion, but she still heard it.

"Since when has that stopped you?" Looking over at her partner Dana was surprised to hear the uncertainty in his voice. This from a man who staked a vampire solely on his own convictions? And was right about it?

"I can’t seem to get into her head, Scully," he admitted. "I don’t understand her. I can get into the mind of homicidal maniacs and serial murders, but this girl?" He shrugged his shoulders and grabbed a few more seeds.

Scully just kept quiet, willing him to continue and not shut up about this the way he normally did. Her patience was rewarded as a few moments later he continued.

"Every time I think I start to understand her, understand her motives and the reasoning behind them, there’s another piece of information that contradicts what I thought or she says something that negates everything I’ve hypothesized." His confusion now rang out in his words.

"If she’s as old as you think she might be, it’s possible that her experiences have made her difficult to categorize." She ran and hand through her hair, hoping to prompt Mulder into bouncing ideas off her the way he often did.

"There’s more to this then age. One minute she’s a child, the next a flirt and then she turns so cold-blooded, Krycek could take lessons from her. And why would a person at least 140 years old feel the need to eliminate fingerprints?" Mulder was poking holes in his own theories. That more than anything let Scully know how hard this whole situation was hitting him.

"What about the others?" she said, trying to divert his mind to more positive topics.

"Duncan MacLeod is the born leader. He feels responsible for those he considers under his protection. Jarod is your basic Boy Scout, out to help the little people. Very smart though." He turned back to watch the front of the Bar, his eyes darting back and forth as he scanned the street.

"You summed them up pretty quick." Her dry comment turned Mulder’s attention back to her.

"They’re both fairly straight forward people." He paused to spit a few more seeds into the cup, letting the splatter of rain take over the conversation for a few moments. Then he looked at her and grinned his usual, arrogant grin. "How about another twenty minutes and then we crash the party?"

After waiting outside the bar for the requisite number of minutes, the two agents stepped out of the rental car and into the streaming rain. The dash to the bar was quick but they were both noticeably damp as they ducked into the doorway. Coming through the front doors, their quarry was nowhere to be seen so, they inquired about Jane, Jarod and Duncan at the bar. They were waved into a back office where the group had gone to discuss some business, after they had flashed their ID of course.

It was late on a rainy Saturday evening. There was no band scheduled for that night and with the rain, the bar was practically empty. But there was still a murmured buzz floating around the room over the ever-present blues playing in the background.

Leaving the warm atmosphere of the bar behind them, they walked over to an open door that revealed a table littered with papers and four people crowded around it in an earnest discussion. Mulder pricked his ears up and tried to make out the conversation.

They weren’t quite at the door when he froze. There was long dark hair that strangled down a woman’s back, curling madly since it was wet and leaving a damp spot on the back of her shirt. His mind flew back to when he was a kid: he and his sister had been swimming and now were heading back from the beach.

Sam was in front of him, her long, wet hair tied back, swaying as she walked, leaving a damp streak down the shirt she’d put on over her swimsuit. She was chattering away animatedly at something he’d said earlier and hadn’t even noticed that he’d fallen behind.

She turned to say something to him and when he wasn’t there, finally turned around to find him. She pouted for a moment, before she smiled her brilliant smile and waved at him to hurry up. When he complied she slipped her hand into his and turned her face up to him and smiled again.

Mentally shaking himself, he returned to the present. He was in the doorway, Scully beside him. Locking back up his memories of Sam, he focused on the group in front of him and the four blank stares responding to the interruption.

***

"…to be an Immortal. He has to be, how else would I know?" I was leaning over the table, trying to convince Joe. I understood his reluctance to reveal things from the Watcher Database, but I had no idea where else I could go to find out about this guy. Joe was my last chance, short of breaking into the Center’s computers and I didn’t have close to the skills I'd need for that.

"I can’t. Aside from the fact I’ve already had trouble with this before, I’m not in charge of the database any more." Joe was being stubborn. He wanted to help me, but I don’t think he was willing to let me go browse through the Watcher records just to satisfy my curiosity. "I don’t even have a complete copy. Only the researchers and a few others have full access anymore. Since that fiasco in Paris…"

Joe abruptly cut off as I looked over my shoulder at the two people walking in the office door. The rest followed my eyes as they rested on the two FBI agents. Mulder had paused in the doorway, a strange look crossing his face before it fled and then his direct gaze took the entire group in. Scully didn’t seem to notice what had come over her partner and just raked everybody over with a glance uncannily similar to her partner’s.

"Oh. Hi. Have a seat and join the party, everyone else is here." My sarcasm cut the silence like a knife. After a moment I twisted around in my chair so I wasn’t craning my neck at such an odd angle. Jarod looked at me, a little worried about my reaction, while Duncan simply put on an unassuming face and sat back. Joe followed Duncan example and leaned into his chair, swiveling the seat to get a better look at the agents.

"Ms. Nygma, we were wondering if we could ask you a few more questions." Scully started the ball rolling.

"You can ask, but I guarantee no answers." I gave up on twisting around and just moved the whole chair, so I could look at Mulder. I wondered how much I could irritate him this time.

"I don’t believe you’re amnesia story, so cut the bullshit and tell me who you are." His eyes were dark as he took some of his frustrations out on me. Evidently, I should be able to annoy the life out of him.

"Been there, done that, and the answers haven’t changed. For all I know I could be the Queen of England. Nope, don’t have the right accent for it." Looking at Scully I let a wicked grin pass over my face. "Then again, I could be your long lost, great aunt Anna who drowned on the Titanic." I looked up at his face, challenging him but his eyes stopped me cold. He just looked at me with those dark eyes and stared through my soul, awakening memories that rumbled around just out of my reach. Finally breaking eye contact he went and grabbed two chairs, waiting for his partner to sit before he joined her. Great. That meant this was going to take a while.

"Now." He said with a self-satisfied smirk, "Why would a simple waitress have no fingerprints?"

I immediately looked at my hands, bringing them to eye level to examine my fingertips. He was right! Rubbing them against the palm of my hand, the smooth surface slid across the skin in a familiar brush. This wasn’t something new. I just hadn’t clued into it.

"What do ya know, he’s right." I held my hand out to Jarod sitting beside me, his warm hands holding mine up as he looked at them. "Must have burned them off years ago."

Turning back to Mulder, I grinned at him like a shark. "Thanks, I didn’t realize that before." I was rewarded with his face turning red. Too bad it didn’t last. After a moment he clamed down and the ball passed to Scully.

She looked around the table, giving everyone a look that, while not out right hostile, was about as close as you could get without crossing the line. Then she smiled as she picked up on our faint unease, zeroing in on the interrupted conversation as the source. "So what are you talking about? We didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation." Her voice had smoothed out to a velvet purr as she set us up for the downfall.

I just gave her a nicely blank look, waiting to see what she’d come up with next.

"Not much really. Just a bit about international conspiracies and the fountain of youth for selected individuals." Did Jarod really just say that? And I thought I liked to push things. Looking over at him, he had an amused grin and his eyes danced.

"So the only thing you really have to worry about is keeping your head attached then?" Mulder jumped back in, looking smug.

Joe was, well, shocked. Jarod was quietly laughing while Duncan had just about passed out. I took it in stride. Sort of. This guy was pretty quick on the uptake.

"Well that’s just dandy." I threw my hands up in the air. "We’re gonna have to kill them now. I hate it when this happens. Every time I decide to live a normal life for a few hundred years, someone has to come along and screw it up." Might as well throw in a little misdirection.

"Jane, what are you talking about?" Duncan was having a bit of a spaz.

"It’s no use pretending anymore Duncan. It’s obvious they know about me. First Georgie-Boy and now them. I suppose we could drag them into the alley and beat them senseless. What do you think?" I looked up expectantly at Jarod and Duncan.

"Very funny." Boy, Scully could get a dry edge to her voice.

"Oh well, it was worth a try. I’ve really got to stop messing with people’s minds." Totally unrepentant, I started to gather up the papers that were on the table.

Mulder wasn’t convinced by my sarcasm and started digging again.

"Now that we have you all together, maybe you could explain how a man shot in the back of the head during a hostage situation is still very much alive and sitting at this table? They have a video of the entire scene at the police station."

Joe gave Duncan a very telling glance before looking away. I guess someone was supposed to get rid of a certain piece of evidence and did a sloppy job. Everybody else was silently pleaded the fifth.

"Or you could fill us in on a police officer with numerous aliases, but no history going back past the last three years." Mulder's statement actually had Jarod faintly squirming. It was an interesting sight to see and one not likely to be repeated anytime soon. I tucked it in my not so reliable memory to gloat over later.

I piled up more of the papers and pretty much had them all stacked when a picture slid out landing face up on the table in front of Mulder. It was one of the pictures Jarod had printed up from when I was at the Center. I was about thirteen, shorter, frizzy hair and all legs. Reaching out to pick it up, Mulder’s hand landed on mine, painfully pressing it into the table.

"Where did you get that?" His voice was tight and strained, his face pale and his eyes wide. His partner moved forward and snagged the print. She was looking at it, her eye’s straining slightly in the dim light as she nodded to herself.

"It’s her." Scully looked up from the print to stare at her partner, but I wasn’t noticing. My heart almost stopped and I could hardly pull in a shaky breath. They knew me? How could they possibly…

"Who is she?" My voice was stressed and unsteady. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. Mulder looked me straight in the face, his hand still pressing on mine; his fingers now wrapped around my wrist.

"That’s my sister. Where is she!?" His face was tortured, his eyes haunted and his voice was harsh, getting louder as he spoke. My heart started up again and sped to the point of bursting. This was my brother?

"How…" I glanced uncertainly to Jarod, then Duncan, Joe and then back to Mulder.

"WHERE IS SHE!?!?!?"

There was silence in the room, except for a faint murmur coming in from the bar. Everyone was frozen unsure of what was happening and what to do next. The moment dragged out, till I destroyed it. I slammed my free hand against the one holding me, forcing Mulder to let me go.

"Leave me alone." I growled.

Sitting down heavily, I ignored the stares directed at me by the two agents. Picking up the picture from where Scully had left it, I ran a finger over print, tracing out my face. I didn’t know what to think. Jarod came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. Looking up into his eyes, I saw his concern but also hope. Reaching out to give the picture back, Mulder snatched it out of my hand.

"What’s her name?" My voice was soft, unsure and I was lost in my mind trying to remember something, anything about my life before. I didn’t notice the scrutiny of Agent Scully. She eased the picture out of Mulder’s hand where it hung listlessly. Mulder was just looking at me, like he was unwilling to see what was in front of him.

"Samantha." Scully was the one who answered me.

Glancing up, I looked at. . . was he really my brother? I had barely even started to try and find out about myself. I was so unsure of what I’d find and uncertain as to whether or not I really wanted to know. Now I was face to face with it, with the very beginning of who I was.

"This is you, isn’t it?" Again, it was Scully who spoke.

I looked at her. She was looking at the picture, then me, then back at the picture before finally resting her eyes on my face. I merely nodded, unable to get any words past the lump in my throat. Jarod looked at me, seeking permission to explain what had happened, part of it at least. Reaching a hand up to his, I looked at him, giving my consent.

"That was taken when she was held at an organization called the Center. They wiped her memory before she left though. She can’t remember anything." At that, he looked over at Duncan and Joe and the three of them silently left the room. I just sat on my chair, looking at my feet.

"Mulder, do you want me to stay?" Scully looked at her partner, concern clearly written on her face. Mulder hadn’t moved or said anything since she’d taken the picture out of his hand. Not getting an answer, she just placed the photo on the table beside the pile of forgotten papers and left, closing the door behind her.

***

‘Was this possible,’ he thought. ‘Could she really be Samantha?’ His mind was whirling, unable to fully grasp that what he’d been searching for was sitting in front of him. She was so hard and rude and obnoxious that he almost didn’t want to believe it, but in her eyes, there was this lost look. Looking her over she just sat there, attitude gone, staring at her feet. Was this the girl he used to play Stratigo with and pull her hair when he was mad? There had been so many false leads and people showing up claiming to be her that now, it seemed impossible that he would ever find her. And so he doubted.

***

"What was she like?" I still couldn’t reconcile the fact that the girl in the picture was me and yet was this man’s sister. She wasn’t me, couldn’t be me, it couldn’t be this easy to find out who I was. How could I be his sister?

"She was so young when she disappeared, barely eight. She was impulsive and stubborn. We were fighting when it happened. There was this light, so bright, I couldn’t move. The walls were shaking and the game we were playing fell on the floor, the pieces scattering under the furniture." He sat there as unmoving as I was. My eyes unfocused as I became lost in the fragment of a memory, not even noticing the intense pounding in my head.

"I was floating and they were taking me away." There was light surrounding me, lifting me up. It was so cold, I wanted to shiver but I couldn’t move. I was frozen. I didn’t want to go, to leave behind my mother, my brother. But I couldn’t do anything, my mouth was shut tight, the light filled my eyes blinding me. I had no choice!

I struggled within myself, trying to break from the bonds that held me, trying to speak, to call out to my brother. He would save me, if I could just call his name. I could feel him near me, but I still couldn’t move. I struggled harder, trying to force the breath in my lungs out, to say his name.

"Fox?"

Still lost in the past, I called out, barely able to force the one word out. I could feel my brother move, the force holding him no longer as strong, as he ran forward and grabbed my ankle, his hand holding me against the force taking me. But it was no use, I was too late, I called out too late and then I was gone.

I came out of the memory shivering, then looked up at my brother. I knew who he was, even if I couldn’t remember much of anything else. This was Fox!

"I was too late, I couldn’t stop them! I tried!" He looked at me, his eyes dark and brooding as he leaned on the desk as if it was the only thing holding him up. "I tried."

Getting up, I went and stood beside him, wrapping one arm under his, holding him up, supporting him. I put a still shaking hand on his chin, pulling his head around so I could look him in the eyes. They were tired and so lost. They searched my face, looking for something, perhaps rejection, perhaps acceptance, perhaps merely for the face of his sister.

"It’s okay, I understand." Now it was my turn to be uncertain "I tried to call you, to warn you, but I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to leave you."

"What did they do to you?" Fox’s voice was quiet, questioning, as though still blaming himself.

"I don’t know."

Epilogue

This was getting confusing. Joe sat on his customary stool behind the bar and started to get out the makings of a Kill Devil. It wasn’t exactly something that got ordered all that much, but he’d gotten the recipe off of a fellow Watcher who’d picked it up from his grandfather. It packed a punch, but it sure tasted good. Agent Scully soon followed them out of his office and with a bit of a shell shocked expression, was sitting at the bar. He put two glasses down and poured out the Rum and Brandy. He was already drizzling the honey before she noticed.

"I didn’t order anything." Her tired eyes looked at his and she found her expression reflect back at her.

"No, but news like this should be accompanied by the proper refreshment. Try it," he said, picking his glass up.

She eyed it a while before taking a sip. It was sweet, but not too bad. Putting the glass back on the coaster she eyed Joe. He’d seemed to play more in the background with the investigation but from the look in his eyes, he was more involved than he let on. He took a big gulp of his glass, putting it down beside hers.

"Why was she running from the Center?" She looked up at him like he had all the answers.

"Not much for beating around the bush are you?" He smiled at her and she wondered just how much of a ladies man he’d been when he was younger. Scrap that, how much of one he was now. He had the sweetest smile that made you want to wrap yourself up in the comfort offered and never leave. But back to the issue at hand.

"Right now, I don’t see a reason for it." She was going to have to do something about the sarcastic edge her voice seemed to be taking on in an almost permanent way.

He put the bottles back to give himself a chance to organize his thoughts, editing out the parts he couldn’t mention. With everything that had happened, he felt a need to go back to the beginning. And he knew she would listen with an open mind.

"She came in about three months ago and started hanging around the bar," he started, falling into an easy cadence as he settled down to tell the story. "We’d talk and she eventually told me about not being able to remember anything. She didn’t want to go to the police, so I asked a buddy of mine, a detective, for a favor. He came down and was going to ask her a few questions, unofficially of course. She spotted him before he was twenty feet into the room. She didn’t bolt until he actually walked up to her, but then she was out the door and gone for a week.

"She finally showed up here again, looking like a scared rabbit and always staying near the doors. After another week she clamed down, but even she didn’t know why she ran. She eventually hooked up with Jarod and since then she’s found some things out." He paused his narrative to take another drink, swirling the liquid around in his glass before putting it back down. "From what she’s told me, the Center is big, ruthless and powerful. And they have fingers in just about everything."

Scully felt a familiar shiver pass down her spine at the description. It sounded altogether too much like the forces at work in the government that she and Mulder were constantly coming in conflict with. Mulder had found enough evidence to know that they were the ones responsible for Samantha’s disappearance.

"Sounds familiar." She sighed. It was more than possible that they were somehow connected to the Center. Something flickered around on the edge of her mind, pulling her back to the reason she was there in the first place. "That doesn’t explain the headless corpse."

Joe’s face closed up and the his eyes hardened, though the friendly smile never left his face. A few moments later, he made up some excuse and went to the other end of the bar, leaving her with her thoughts. She knew she’d hit a nerve, but wasn’t sure what to do about it. There were a lot of different facts floating around in her mind that had yet to come together.

Taking another sip of the drink in front of her, she let her mind unfocus, hoping to let her subconscious fit the pieces together. The only thing that seemed to come together was the fact that she should call the PD and tell the forensics department to forget about aging the picture. A few sips later she gave up rational thought completely. The whole situation was just getting too confusing.

End note as of March 2000:

Well, it’s done and this thing has more to come if you want it. The next book, Fountain of Youth, is finished and just in the process of some minor editing. It shouldn’t take me too long to get that one up and posted. I’ve actually got the next two written, but I also want to tweak  them a little. It’s the fourth part that’s got me stumped. Anyway, if you want to comment, by all means, but no flames please. If you didn’t like it, why are you still reading it? Cheers and helpful critiques more than welcome.