019D9C090E03@comcast.net> eb7f638f   
   Title - Decoding the Enigma   
   Authors - Amy Jonas and MagsRose   
   E-mail - adjonas2000@yahoo.com or magsrose@comcast.net   
   Rating - FRT-13 (PG - 13)   
   Category - AU/Gen/Het   
   Archive - Just let us know.   
   Feedback - Yes, please. Any kind is always welcome. We just like to know   
   someone is reading this stuff.   
   Disclaimer - Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here in   
   are the property of Chris Carter, et. al. No infringements of these copyrights   
   are intended, and are used here without permission. All original characters   
   are the sole property    
   of Mags or Amy and may not be used without the author's permission.   
   Summary - In 1940, Private Investigator, Melvin Frohike thought he was working   
   on a simple missing person case but he soon found himself embroiled in   
   something far more sinister.   
   Authors' notes - After seeing the Maltese Falcon, Amy presented Mags with an   
   idea for The X-Files characters in an Alternate Universe.  Intrigued by the   
   possibilities, Mags suggested a co-authoring effort.  The result is the story   
   you see here.  Thanks    
   to Erynn and Alison for betaing this for us.   
      
      
      
      
   Chapter 5   
      
      
      
   Jimmy stood outside the door of the Photography Lab, not daring to breath or   
   make a sound.  He pressed his ear to the frosted glass and waited, his blond   
   hair obscuring the dark lettering that identified the room.   
      
   There.   
      
   Soft footsteps, a faint rustling of papers.   
      
   Someone was inside the Lab.   
      
   Maybe another photographer had forgotten something and returned.  But they   
   would have signed in at the security desk just as he had.  The security guard   
   even said everyone had left for the night.  Jimmy had seen the sign out log.   
   The last person to leave    
   had been the Publisher, C.B. Spender and that had been several hours ago.   
      
   And why would someone be sneaking around in the dark?   
      
   Another sound dragged his attention back to the lab.  This time it was a soft   
   snick.  Someone was opening the filing cabinets.   
      
   Anger and confusion blazed inside him at the thought of someone rummaging   
   through the files.  Why?  It didn’t make sense.  There was nothing of real   
   value in there.  Just photographs that…   
      
   His stomach twisted in a sick sense of understanding.  The missing photos of   
   Professor Langly and Yves Harlow he had spent hours searching for and believed   
   to be misplaced: someone had stolen them. And now perhaps the thief had   
   returned.   
      
   But why?   
      
   Jimmy wanted answers.  His heart thudding against his chest, he gripped the   
   doorknob, took a slow, steadying breath and pushed the door open.  Flipping on   
   the overhead light, he shouted with bravado he didn’t feel, “Hey!  What are   
   you do…“   
      
   The words died in his throat when he saw the intruder.   
      
   Yves Harlow gazed back at him with a cool confidence that implied she had   
   every right to be in the lab in the middle of the night.   
      
   His mouth went dry as he watched her fingers smooth her black, tight fitting   
   clothes that revealed a curvaceous body.   
      
   “Mr. Bond,” she said in that lilting English accent.  “What a surprise to see   
   you here.”   
      
   “I…uh…could say…um…the same thing,” Jimmy stuttered.  He swallowed hard and   
   tore his gaze from the slow, sure movements of her hands to focus on her   
   face.  “I mean, what are you doing here?”   
      
   A coy smile touched her lips.  “It’s rather embarrassing,” she said.  “You   
   see: my employer has this phobia about having his picture taken.”  Her soft,   
   husky voice sent shivers up his spine.  Or maybe it was because, as she   
   talked, she closed the short    
   distance between them until there was only a hand's breadth separating them.   
      
   “It’s silly, I know,” she continued, “but he asked me to retrieve them.    
   Perhaps…?”  She let the sentence hang between them.   
      
   “Sorry.”  Jimmy’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I can’t help you.”   
      
   Yves touched his chest gently then slid her hand up slowly until he felt her   
   cool fingers caressing the bare skin at the nape of his neck.  Sparks shot   
   down to his toes.  Tilting her head, she gazed up at him, her brown eyes soft   
   and inviting. “Is there    
   anything I can do to convince you?”   
      
   They were so close that if he angled his head down and moved toward her a   
   fraction of an inch, their lips would touch.  He wondered what she would taste   
   like.   
      
   She parted her lips as if anticipating the contact.   
      
   His heart drummed in his chest.  Staring at her full, scarlet lips, he bent   
   his head and inhaled her scent.  She smelled of wild flowers and wine.   
      
   “I can’t.”  The words came out thick, nearly sticking in his throat.   
      
   She smiled reassuringly. “Don’t you find me attractive?”   
      
   Jimmy nearly choked at that.  “I… You're amazing.”   
      
   “Then there’s no problem,” she whispered.   
      
   The space between them melted away and there was only the soft warmth of her   
   body touching his.  He couldn’t think, not with her tantalizing scent   
   surrounding him.   
      
   He wanted to touch her.  He reached up and brushed the back of his hand down   
   her cheek, thrilling at her smooth, satiny warmth, then brushed a lock of hair   
   from her face, tucking it behind her ear then skimmed down the center of her   
   spine, stopping to    
   rest at the small of her back.   
      
   She whispered his name in a way that made him ache.   
      
   He wanted her. Oh, God, he wanted her.   
      
   But not like this.   
      
   “No,” he managed, pulling away from her.  “It wouldn’t be right.”   
      
   He glimpsed surprise on her face before turning from her and what she had been   
   offering him.  It was then he saw the open file cabinets.  It was an ice-cold   
   awakening.   
      
   “You’re too late.”  He couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice.  “The   
   pictures are gone.”   
      
   “Where are they?” Yves demanded; cool, composed and all business as if she had   
   never tried to seduce him.   
      
   It was dumb but it hurt, knowing she would use him that way just to get the   
   pictures.   
      
   Jimmy shrugged, trying to mimic her attitude but failed miserably.   “I   
   figured they've been misfiled in the morgue.  That’s like a huge library where   
   we keep…” He trailed off at her impatient look.  “But I couldn’t find them   
   anywhere,” he continued.  “   
   Someone must have stolen them.”   
   	   
   “Do you know who stole the pictures?”   
      
   Jimmy shook his head. “No idea.”   
      
   She gazed intently at him, weighing his answer. “Did that reporter write a   
   story about the Professor?”   
      
   “Spender?  Nah, he didn’t think there was anything to it.”   
      
   “Who else knows about this?”   
      
   Jimmy started to answer when he realized she was asking all the questions.    
   “Wait a minute.  What’s going on anyway?  Just who are you?”   
      
   She took a step toward him.  “Who else knows about this,” she repeated, her   
   voice low and cold.  “Did you tell anyone else?”   
      
   Jimmy heard the dangerous undertone in her words but oddly it only made him   
   curious.  “No one,” he fudged, lowering his eyes.  “Spender made it plain that   
   if I tried to convince another reporter to talk to the Professor, he’d have my   
   job.”  This time he    
   did meet her tense gaze.  “I figured I could do the story myself.”   
      
   It was odd, he thought.  She seemed relieved that no one knew about Professor   
   Langly yet concerned by his admission he was looking into it.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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