Mystery and Madness
Part one
By Rina Stewart and Kristine Beeson

Spoilers: X-Files-Emily, Christmas Carol, All Souls
Dawson's Creek-Decisions (formerly titled Breaking Away), Double Date (formerly titled Modern Romance)
Silk Stalkings- Partners 1 and 2, Glory Days, Till Death Do Us Part, Last Kiss Goodnight, Dead Asleep

This is written as an alternative to season 2 of Dawson's Creek, and season 5 of XFiles. It takes off directly, and I do mean directly, from DC's first season finale.

DECEMBER 3, 1998
9:06 PM

Dawson Leery and Joey Potter had been best friends all of their lives. And after months of unrequited love on Joey's part, Dawson finally figured out what everyone else had known for year...he loved Joey, and not just as a friend. It wasn't until she told him she wanted to go to France for a year, however, that he realized his true feelings. When Dawson finally admitted that he loved her, Joey realized that her dreams were coming true at last. She eagerly accepted his kiss, not thinking that anything could ever be wrong with this.

As their lips met, they were blissfully unaware of Dawson's ex-girlfriend and neighbor Jen Lindley standing outside his house. She looked like an angel with the moonlight glistening off her blond hair, but looks are deceiving. She wildly brushed the tears off her face as her anger mounted. Dawson and Joey's silhouettes were clearly visible in his window as they continued their passionate kiss. By now, Jen's blue eyes were icy cold with anger.

"Damn you, Josephine Potter," she seethed. "You had to butt in where you didn't belong, didn't you. Dawson and I were just fine until you wanted him," she continued, choosing not to remember the fact that she, Jen, had broken up with Dawson for reasons that didn't concern Joey at all. "Well, you'll get yours, bitch. And I'll have Dawson back with me, where he belongs," she vowed, her blue eyes snapping dangerously.

5:11 PM

Christopher Lorenzo swore as he came to another intersection. He and his wife Rita had come to Boston with their young daughter Callista to visit his father for Christmas. He shouldn't have been surprised when they came up and found a note from Benny Lorenzo saying that he had a change of plans and was spending the holidays in Hawaii, but he had been disappointed. They had ended up staying in a Boston hotel, but were seriously considering going back to California. It was home for 2 1/2 year old Callie, but he and Rita desperately missed Palm Beach, Florida, which they both considered home. They hadn't been back there since Chris had been forced to fake his death during a case a few years earlier when Rita had been 6 months pregnant with Callie.

An hour earlier, he had left the hotel with the sole purpose of getting dinner. Too many wrong turns later, he found himself fairly well ensconced in a small idyllic seaside town with no real means of escape. He sighed. He was definitely dreading this, but it had to be done. He picked up his cell phone and dialed his hotel room as he made a left turn. It was picked up before the end of the first ring.

"Chris?" Rita Lorenzo answered the phone.

"Hey, Sammy," he said sheepishly, making another left. "You're not going to believe this."

"You're lost," she sighed, sitting down on the bed where her daughter sat coloring, oblivious to the worry her mother had been feeling.

"Hopelessly," he admitted. "All right, Chris," she sighed again. "Callie and I ordered room service, so you just find your way back, okay? Ask someone for directions," she told him. There was a silence. "Did you hear me, Christopher? Ask for directions," she said sternly.

"Okay, okay," he agreed, turning right.

"Thanks, Sam. Hurry back, okay?"

Suddenly, Chris noticed two figures on a rooftop. They seemed to be looking at something, but he couldn't be sure what. Right in front of his horrified eyes, one of the figures turned and pushed the other, who plunged down to the hard ground below. The remaining figure on the roof stood still a moment before disappearing from sight.

"Rita, I have to go," Chris said urgently, pulling his car onto the side of the road. "Someone just fell off the roof of a house. I think she was pushed."

"What?" Rita asked, shocked. "No, Chris, wait," she called, but not soon enough. Chris hung up on her, and dialed 911 as he rushed to where the still body lay on its back, taking the time to glance at the address and street name.

"911," a calm voice answered.

"This is Chris Lorenzo. I'm at 1125 Sentient Street. I was driving by and saw someone fall off the roof of a house."

"Are you with the person now?"

"Yes. She's a brunette, maybe 16 years old. No pulse. I'm going to try CPR."

"Sir, are you qualified to perform CPR?"

"Yeah, I'm a cop," Chris told her.

"All right, then, sir. An ambulance is on the way, and should be there very soon." The operator started to say something else, but that was all Chris needed to know. He hung up, and started CPR, willing the girl to start breathing again. The paramedics arrived within minutes, but it was too late. She was pronounced dead at the scene, and death had probably been instantaneous. A slightly older man, about 40 years old, pulled Chris away from the scene.

After introducing himself as Officer John Sherwood, the man gruffly asked if Chris was the witness.

"Yeah, I'm Lieutenant Christopher Lorenzo, LAPD, Homicide Division." "Well, Lt. Lorenzo, you're quite a ways from Los Angeles," Sherwood said, less gruff now that he knew he was dealing with a fellow officer.

"My family and I came to Boston for the holidays. I made some wrong turns and ended up here just as the girl fell," Chris told him. "Um, where is here?"

Sherwood laughed. "Capeside. I'll take your statement, and get you directions back to Boston."

"Sounds good," Chris agreed. Just as he was telling Sherwood about the two figures looking at something on the roof, a car drove up and a frantic woman jumped out.

"Dawson! What happened? Where's my son?" she screamed, panicked. She saw Chris and John Sherwood and rushed over. "What's happening?" she asked, eyes wild with terror for her only son.

"There was an accident, Mrs. Leery," Sherwood said soothingly. "We haven't seen your son anywhere."

"What kind of accident?" Gale Leery asked, her reporter instincts kicking in now that she knew her son was safe.

"A girl was pushed off of your roof, Mrs. Leery," Chris told her.

Sherwood and Gale turned to look at him. "What?" she asked in disbelief, while Sherwood simultaneously asked, "Pushed?"

"I was getting to that," Chris told him. "I saw two figures on the roof looking at something. Maybe in a window or something, and then one pushed the other off the roof, and just disappeared."


Inside, Joey slowly woke up in Dawson's bed. She smiled as she felt Dawson's arms around her, holding her close, but her smile dropped off her face as she woke up completely and heard the sounds outside. Her eyes snapped open as she panicked.

"Dawson, wake up!" she hissed, shaking him.

"Huh?" he said sleepily.

"Dawson, the police are here!"

That woke him up completely. "What do you mean, the police are here, Jo?"

"They're outside. We have to clean up in here," Joey said, frantically doing just that. "Oh, my God, if Bessie finds out, she'll kill me!"

Dawson stopped Joey with a hug. "Jo, it'll be fine, okay? Just take a deep breath, and we'll handle it."

She did as Dawson suggested, and smiled at him. "Okay."

"You mean you actually listened to me? Wow, I could get used to this," he grinned.

She smacked him on the butt. "Get moving, Leery," she said affectionately.

"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly, starting to clean up the floor, grinning.

Five minutes later, they came out of the front door, amazed at the amount of bystanders. They exchanged looks before Dawson saw his mother with two men and they hurried over.

"Mom? What's happening?" His mother gave first him, and then Joey big hugs. "Oh, thank God you're okay," she said, her relief evident.

"Mom? You're worrying me here. What happened?" Dawson asked again.

"Dawson, honey, there was an accident. Two people were on our roof, and one was pushed off," his mother told him.

Dawson gasped. "What? Who?"

Joey, who had walked over to where the medics were, came running back over. "Dawson! Dawson, it's Mary Beth," she said, shocked.

"Mary Beth? The Mary Beth I went to the carnival with? Our friend?" he asked, praying she was wrong, but she nodded slowly.

"Are you sure about that ID, young lady?" Sherwood asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Capeside is a small town, Officer. We've gone to school with each other for years," she said.

"I'm sorry, but can I ask you a question?" Chris asked.

"Sure," Joey said, wondering who the man was. He seemed to recognize her unasked question, and introduced himself.

"Lt. Chris Lorenzo, LAPD. Where were you and your friend when this occurred?"

Joey glanced at Dawson, instantly uncomfortable. "We were inside. We must have fallen asleep or something."

"I don't understand why you need to know that," Gale interrupted, her voice cold.

"Mrs. Leery, we just want to make sure that they were accounted for," Chris said. "This is a murder investigation, and being a suspect is a serious thing."

"I can assure you that neither Dawson nor Joey would ever do anything like this," Gale said frostily.

"I'm sure that's the case, ma'am, but we need to know where they were," Chris said firmly. He looked at Joey. "I assume you're Joey?"

"Yeah. Joey Potter," she told him.

"Okay, Joey. Were you and Dawson alone this afternoon?" Dawson winced, but let Joey talk.

She met his gaze dead on. "Yes, we were. I came over about an hour after school got out, and we just fell asleep." She shrugged. "It's been a long week."

"Can anyone verify this?" Chris asked. "Lt. Lorenzo, that's enough," Gale interrupted. "Joey and Dawson have just lost a friend. If you'll excuse us, we're going inside." She led the teenagers back into the house.

Chris sighed. Joey had seemed to be telling the truth, but he could tell that she was also holding something back. He turned to Officer Sherwood. "I need to be going back to Boston now, but I would like to be kept up to date on this case, if that's okay."

"Actually, that would probably be a good idea. Capeside hasn't seen a murder in decades, and I'm sure we'll be needing some help," Sherwood admitted. He took Chris' business card, and gave him directions back to his hotel in return.

As Chris walked to his car, he thought about Rita and Callie. He knew that Rita would not be happy with him helping out in this case, but he felt a connection to the case now, and needed to see it finished. Hopefully, she would understand that, and be able to help him. The old team of Lance and Lorenzo was almost unbeatable.

8:17 AM

Special Agent Dana Scully had no more walked into the basement office she shared with her partner Fox Mulder before the aforesaid partner told her to turn around and walk back out again. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "Skinner called down. He wants us in his office the minute you showed up."

She dropped her briefcase by her desk. "Of course he does." Why not? She continued to herself. Everything else had gone wrong today, why should this be any different? Her alarm hadn't gone off on time, she hadn't put the coffee pot in the machine completely so most of the coffee had dripped onto her counter and floor, she had misplaced her keys, and to top it all off, it had been one year ago today that she had first seen her Emily. Her little girl who had been taken from her more times than she cared to think about.

"Scully?" Mulder asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she sighed. "Let's get this over with, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, not wanting to press her.

8:36 AM

Mulder and Scully sat in chairs facing their immediate supervisor's desk. Assistant Director Walter Skinner had just informed them of their next case. Mulder had the case file in his hand, and was skimming through it.

"Sir, I don't understand. This appears to be a typical, straightforward murder. Nothing out of the ordinary. Why is the FBI on it, let alone Scully and myself?" he questioned.

Skinner sat back in his chair, and decided to level with them. Gale most certainly would tell them when they got there, anyway. "The fall occurred on the Leery property, and Gale Leery is an old school friend of mine. In addition, her son Dawson and his girlfriend Joey would appear to be suspects, as they were alone in the house at the time of the accident. Gale called me to help."

"But, sir," Mulder began.

"Agent Mulder, you and Agent Scully have been assigned to this case. You will go to Boston today, and you will solve this case," Skinner barked. "Dismissed."

The two agents left the room. Once they had left the office and were waiting for the elevator, Mulder exploded.

Scully tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "Look, Mulder, I know this isn't your kind of case. But the faster we get it solved, the faster we can be back here searching for your precious Truth, okay?" She winced as a flash of hurt crossed his face before the wall sprung up. Well, at least she had managed to keep most of the sarcasm out of her voice. Just because she was having a bad day, though, didn't mean she needed to drag Mulder down with her. None of what had happened had been his fault. Hell, he had been the one person that she had been able to count on to help. Her mother and brother had tried, but Mulder was the one she had depended on.

"I'm sorry, Mulder," she sighed, feeling like the words weren't enough. "I really am. I just, you know, need some coffee. It's been a long morning."

He pushed past her as the doors opened and hit the button for the basement as he shrugged. "It's fine, Scully. We all have bad days." The ride down and the walk to their office were quiet, neither having the courage to say anything, lest they be shot down.

Mulder dropped the case file on Scully's desk for her to read before he sat down at his desk. He glanced at the calendar before calling the airlines, and blanched when he saw the date. December 16. Shit. No wonder Scully was in such a horrible mood. It had been exactly one year since Scully had first met little Emily Sim, whom she had ultimately discovered to be her biological daughter, the only child she would ever be able to have. The tests and experiments performed on her during her abduction had made sure of that. These were going to be hard weeks for Scully, he mused, because of all the little milestones, the anniversaries she was going to have to face. Things like the first time she had seen Emily. The day she discovered that Emily was her daughter and the day when she had helplessly watched her precious baby girl die. The day she had buried Emily, and discovered nothing in the coffin except sand and the necklace that she had given the little girl. He cursed himself that he had not seen this day coming, and hadn't been there when she needed him. She was going to need him, need his help, but she wouldn't ask for it. To her, that was a sign of weakness, and she wouldn't allow it. He knew that he was the same way, but it was so easy to see that it was wrong when it was another person doing it, someone that he loved so much. He sighed, and dialed the number of their usual airlines.

At her desk, Scully read through the case file. Mulder was right. There was nothing out of the ordinary here. Her eyes flashed on the name of the witness. Christopher Lorenzo. That sounded so familiar to her, but she couldn't place it. Great. Along with everything else, she was losing her memory. Just what she needed right now. Mulder's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I don't think you understand, ma'am. I am a Federal Agent. I need to be on a flight to Boston today." He listened. "I appreciate that, I really do, but I also really need to be on a flight. Any flight." He listened some more, and sighed. "Fine. Thank you for your help." He slammed the phone down, muttering something under his breath about the friendly skies not being too friendly.

Scully tried to stop her laugh, but couldn't. He looked just like a petulant little boy. He glanced up at her, cautiously. "Sorry, Mulder," she managed.

He shrugged, and gave her a grin. "That's okay. Glad to see you're in a better mood now. Except, of course, I'm about to wreck it again."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Go for it. Things really can't get much worse that they are."

"Famous last words, Scully. There are no flights available to Boston until tomorrow. So, we're driving up."

"Mmm-hmm. And how long does it take to get to Boston from here?" she asked.

"7 or 8 hours, give or take a few," Mulder told her.

"Great. Super. I'll go home and pack. Pick me up in about half an hour, okay?" she said, grabbing her briefcase again, but leaving the case file.

"See you then, Sunshine."

She rolled her eyes at him, and left.

9:24 AM

They had only been driving for about 10 minutes, and already there were problems. These problems were coming in the disguise of the radio. Mulder and Scully had very different tastes in music, and that was evident fairly quickly. Mulder couldn't stand the light rock and easy listening that Scully loved, and Scully would rather pluck out her eyebrows than listen to the noise that Mulder insisted really was music. They had settled into a routine of first Scully, then Mulder hitting their favorite preset stations in an almost comical power struggle. Scully had just taken her turn, and heard the opening chords of her favorite song. She saw Mulder reaching for the button to change to his favorite station, and slapped at his hand.

"Mulder, no, wait. Just let me listen to this song, okay? It's our song," she blurted out, wincing when she realized what she had said. Why had she said that? He didn't need to know that she had a song for them. Several songs, actually.

Mulder's hand stayed where it was, his mind whirling. They had a song? She had given them a song? His hand moved closer to the controls, but instead of turning the station off, he turned it up louder. He had to hear this song.

When every moment gets too hard
The end of the road can feel so far
No matter how much time we're apart
I'm always near you

I'll be the shelter in your rain
Help you to find your smile again
I'll make you laugh at a broken heart
Wherever you are

'Cause I'm never gonna walk away
If the walls come down someday
All alone and you feel afraid

You can always depend on me
I believe until forever ends
I will be your friend

Yeah, I will be your friend

So many people come and go
Nothing can change the you I know
You'll never be just a face in the crowd
And time will show

Through the seasons and the years
I will always hold you dear
Never you fear

'Cause I'm never gonna walk away
If the walls come down someday
All alone and you feel afraid
I'll be there when you call my name
You can always depend on me
I believe until forever ends
I will be your friend

'Cause I'm never gonna walk away
If the walls come down someday
All alone and you feel afraid
I'll be there when you call my name
You can always depend on me
I believe until forever ends
I will be your friend

I'll be around when every candle burns down low
And I want you and I want you to know

'Cause I'm never gonna walk away
If the walls come down someday
All alone and you feel afraid
I'll be there when you call my name
You can always depend on me
I believe until forever ends
I will be your friend

'Cause I'm never gonna walk away
If the walls come down someday
All alone and you feel afraid
I'll be there when you call my name
You can always depend on me
I believe until forever ends
I will be your friend

I will be your friend
I will be your friend
I will be your friend

Mulder blinked. Maybe Scully's music wasn't so bad after all. He looked over at his partner. She was blushing faintly, staring out the window. "Hey, Scully." She didn't turn around. "Scully?" Now she glanced over at him.


"I liked that song," he said simply.

She smiled faintly. "I'm glad. I heard it one day, and I guess it just made me think of us." Along with some others, but he was never going to know about all the love songs she heard that made her think of him. It would be horrible if he didn't feel the same about her. It would ruin everything they already had together.

"Yeah." She smiled again, and bent down into her purse, pulling out a Walkman. "Hey, Scully?"

She looked at him. "Yes, Mulder?"

"I know what today is."

She froze, but tried to keep her voice even. "Really?"

"Scully, you don't need to hide it," Mulder said, frustrated. Here she gives them this song about people always being there for each other, and she wasn't letting him in. "I know you miss Emily. I know that you're hurting, and you're not letting me help!"

"I can't, Mulder," she said, gripping the headphones in a death grasp. "It's just too hard. Not now," she whispered.

He sighed. "Fine." He looked at Scully, who was staring straight out the windshield, struggling to keep her tears in check. "Scully, you can talk to me, you know. I won't bite your head off if you need to cry, or be angry."

"I know, Mulder," she said, and she did know. "That's what has gotten me through this past year." She paused. "You can turn on your station now, if you want," she offered. "I have my Walkman," she said, holding it up.

"Thanks," he said, doing just that as she put the headphones on and adjusted them. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her get comfortable, closing her eyes and snuggling against the seat, trying to find a good position. He would give anything for her to be able to confide her feelings in him, but she just seemed unable to let anyone help her. Someday, all of these feelings were going to have to come out, and he was determined to be the one who was there when that happened. He was never going to let her down again.

12:24 PM

The agents had pulled into a gas station before stopping for lunch. Scully, who looked faintly flushed, jumped up and said she would take care of it. She left her headphones on her seat, and Mulder looked at them. Earlier when he had asked what she was listening to, she had turned red, and told him it was nothing he would be interested in. She must have known that saying that to Mulder was like waving a red flag in front of a bull, but she had anyway. She had been so into her tape that when he asked, he had caught her off-guard, and she had thrown off the first answer that came to her mind. Now that she was out of the car, he took the opportunity to hear for himself what was supposedly so uninteresting to him.

<<"I could use some help unlacing my gown, if you don't mind, milord."

Leanna presented Jax her back. Jax's fingers fumbled with the laces,
a task he had never had problems with before. His fingers froze when
touched to bare back. Finally, Leanna stood unlaced, holding her gown
across her bosom. "I'll be right back." Leanna's words were a whisper.

Leanna went into the chambre and slid out of her gown. She removed
the rest of her clothes and picked up the nightgown. Leanna looked
the garment over, it was a flimsy as a chemise. Were it not for the
ties up the sides that held it together Leanna would have looked for
something else, assuming it was the chemise. She slipped the garment
over her head and blushed at the immodesty of it. She was better
covered in her chemise! Well, she thought, this is my wedding night.
My husband does have the right to see me as he chooses. And obviously
this is what he chooses. Leanna set about to comb out her hair. She
ran the brush through auburn tresses slowly. With the chore
accomplished, Leanna knew she had no other reason to delay the return
to her husband. The butterflies had returned to her stomach, making
her half-nauseous.

Leanna emerged from the room to see Jax already in bed. He sat
propped up against the pillows with the sheet covering him from the
waist down. Leanna could not believe her eyes. He truly was the
Greek God she imagined him to be yesterday morning. His well-muscled
arms and chest gave evidence to hours spent at hard work. There was
not an ounce of fat to be found in the body parts visible and she
doubted there was any to be found in the covered areas either. His
stomach was firm and well defined beneath his lightly furred chest.
Leanna wondered what it would be like to sleep with such a man and
have his strong arms around her night after night. Was that just
wishful thinking?
Jax folded down the covers beside him and patted the bed. "Would you
care to join me?" >>

Mulder's mouth dropped in shock. He didn't know what he had expected, but this certainly wasn't it. He had never pictured Scully as the type to read trashy romance novels, or listen to them. He hit play again. Hmmm. It really wasn't that bad. Now he had ammunition the next time she made a comment about his movies and magazines.

<pushing against the fabric of the gown. He worked his way down her
flat belly to the juncture where her legs met her body. He adjusted
the sheet to shield the evidence of his growing passion. He did not
want to frighten her with his boldness. Yet unlike yesterday in the
dressmaker's shop when Leanna stood in her chemise, this time there
was nothing to keep them apart. Except Leanna, who stood at the edge
of the bed looking for all the world like a wild animal ready to flee.
"This is it." Leanna thought. "I shall learn the sincerity of his
words by his actions." She eased herself on to the soft mattress;
scooting back to rest upon the pillows Jax piled up for her. "This
bed seems extremely soft." Leanna said out loud.

"It certainly does." Jax chided himself for the inane chatter. "To
hell with it." Jax told himself. "She joined me in the bed. She
knows what comes next, she was married before. She is not an untried
virgin for goodness sakes." Jax reached over to fold Leanna into his
embrace. >>

He was so intent on the story he was listening to, he didn't notice Scully coming back to the car. She opened her door and gasped.

"Mulder! What the hell do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed, grabbing the headphones and tape player out of his hands, turning bright red.

"I was curious, Scully," he said, giving her his best "I'm innocent" smile.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she said, embarrassed. "Well, now you know my deepest secret. I, Dana Scully, am addicted to romance novels." He grinned as he pulled out of the gas station. She pulled a bag of sunflower seeds out of her purse. "Well, I bought these for you, but now I don't know. After that stunt, I don't think you should get these."

He gave her his best puppy dog look. "I wouldn't have listened if you hadn't left them right there, Scully. Besides, now we have something in common. Those movies that aren't mine and your books." He grabbed the bag of sunflower seeds out of her hand.

"Hey, watch it," she teased. "My books are sweet romances with love between two adults. Those movies are just gratuitous sex."

He rolled his eyes as she settled the headphones back on her head. "Hey, Scully?" She looked at him. "Can we listen to your sweet romances with love between two adults? I was kind of getting hooked."

"Mulder," she said warningly.

"What?" he asked innocently. "You don't want to share?"

"Mulder, just drive. Get us lunch, okay?"

"Yes, MA'AM!" he saluted. Scully couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in her. God, it felt good to laugh at something, even if it was Mulder. "Hey, Scully? Can I borrow that tape when you're done?"

6:47 PM

At long last, the agents were pulling into their Boston hotel. Scully had taken over the wheel after Mulder had gotten them lost twice, saying he knew a special short cut, and Mulder had taken control of Scully's headphones and romance books on tape. Scully pulled into a parking space, and poked her partner. "Come on, Sir Mulder, time to go."

He stretched and slipped the headphones off. "Hey, Scully, why don't you ever call me my Lord? That would be cool."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Fine. Get the luggage, my Lord. This fair damsel will meet you inside at the front desk," she said, tossing him the keys and leaving him behind.

He shook his head. "Somehow, that backfired on me."

End part one.

"I Will be Your Friend" is performed by Amy Grant and can be found on her CD "Behind the Eyes."

Disclaimer: Scully, Mulder, Emily, and Skinner belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions;
Dawson, Joey, Pacey, Jen, Gale, Mary Beth, and Abby belong to Kevin Williamson, the WB, and Sony;
Chris and Rita belong to Stu Segal and USA Productions;
Callie and John Sherwood belong to Rina and Kristine;
"Let Me Count the Ways" is written by Lea. She owns Leanna, Mickey Mouse owns Jax. Her story is used with permission.

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