From: taffyxf@yahoo.com   
      
   Title: Shadows in the Starlight   
   Author: Taffy Northwood   
   E-Mail: taffyxf@yahoo.com   
   Summary:  Getting together was the easy part. Making   
   it work was harder than either of them imagined.   
   Spoilers:  Season 6   
   Rating:  NC17   
   Category:  MT, MSR   
   Archives:  I'd be honored.   
   Feedback: Please?  With a cherry on top?   
   Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, Skinner and any   
   other XF characters are on loan only.   
   Author Notes:  "Shadows in the Starlight" is a   
   sequel to "Let No Star Shine."  It isn't necessary   
   to read that story first--you just need to know that   
   after a wild weekend at a FBI seminar, Mulder and   
   Scully are now in a romantic relationship. Hugh Davis   
   is a world famous forensic expert and friend of   
   Scully's from college who was at the seminar where   
   he met Tim McCloskey, an idealistic young FBI   
   agent.   
      
   This isn't a WIP--the story will be posted as parts are   
   edited.  I'll try and post every day or so--depending on   
   how RL goes.   
      
   Shadows in the Starlight   
      
      
   In Scully's experience, good news was never delivered   
   at 2:30 in the morning.  The ringing phone seemed   
   ominous as she propped herself up on one elbow and   
   reached for it.  Normally, a call in the middle of   
   the night meant that Mulder had gotten himself hurt   
   or arrested, but Mulder was a warm, sleepy weight   
   curled against her back.   
      
   "Scully," she croaked into the phone.   
      
   "Agent Scully, it's Skinner."  Her boss' tone was   
   deadly serious as he went on.   
      
   "Tim McCloskey was shot tonight.  I need your help."   
      
   "Oh my God, sir," Scully said, pushing herself   
   into a sitting position against the headboard.  "What   
   can I do to help?"   
      
   Mulder was wide awake now, his expression concerned.   
   He opened his mouth to question her, but closed it   
   again when she laid gentle fingers over his lips.   
      
   "Tim's been shot," she mouthed.   
      
   "Scully, I'm going to call Mr. and Mrs. McCloskey,   
   but I need you to get in touch with Dr. Davis.  I...   
   uh...Agent McCloskey has always been very private   
   about his personal life.  I'd like to maintain   
   that privacy for him."   
      
   "I understand, sir.  Where is Tim?"   
      
   "He's at George Washington.  Scully...it's   
   pretty bad."   
      
   "I'll call Agent Mulder and we'll get Dr. Davis.   
   Is Tim still in the ER?"   
      
   "Last I heard.  I better place that call to the   
   McCloskeys," Skinner said, his tone indicating how   
   much he hated having to do that.   
      
   She hung up the phone, turning to Mulder who appeared   
   to be bursting with questions.   
      
   "We have to get Hugh," she said, jumping out of bed.   
      
   "How did it happen?" Mulder asked, as he pulled on   
   his jeans.   
      
   "Skinner didn't say," she answered.   
      
   They dressed quickly and gathered up their cell phones,   
   IDs, weapons--the tools of their trade.   Scully caught   
   a glimpse of herself in the mirror on her way out the   
   door and took a few seconds to smooth her tousled hair   
   into place.   
      
   As Scully drove through the deserted streets from   
   Georgetown to Hugh's incredibly upscale neighborhood,   
   she remembered how Hugh and Tim had met.  Last year,   
   she and Mulder had attended a professional conference   
   where Hugh had been the keynote speaker.  Tim had been   
   there too--a green young agent whose enthusiasm and   
   inexperience made him something of a target for his   
   peers.  Leave it to the debonair Hugh Davis to see   
   behind the farmboy naivete and appreciate Tim for his   
   integrity and values.   
      
   She stopped the car in the circular driveway of the   
   Ashborough, Hugh's exclusive apartment building.   
   Even at three in the morning, a doorman strode over   
   to them.  The man's face betrayed his distaste at the   
   non-descript sedan parked where Lexus's and BMWs   
   normally resided.   
      
   Their FBI credentials may not have wiped that look   
   off the attendant's face, but it impressed him   
   enough to allow the car to stay where it was.   
      
   "May I help you?" the doorman said, his voice   
   'middle-of-the-night' low.   
      
   "We need to see Dr. Davis," Scully said.  "It's   
   urgent."   
      
   The doorman looked suitably concerned.  This was   
   clearly not a common occurrence at the Ashborough.   
      
   "Certainly," he said, a little flustered.  "Dr.   
   Davis is in our of our rooftop apartments--number   
   919.  I'll let him know you're on your way."   
      
   In minutes, they were at Hugh's apartment, ringing   
   the bell to announce their arrival.  Hugh opened   
   the door almost immediately.   
      
   "Where's the body?"  He was wearing a bright white   
   tshirt and flannel pajama bottoms.   
      
   Scully realized that Hugh thought their early-morning   
   visit was a business call.  As a world-class   
   pathologist, he was accustomed to the occasional   
   rude awakening, although most requests were made   
   by telephone.   
      
   "No, Hugh, it's not like that."  She touched his   
   forearm.  "It's about Tim."   
      
   Scully and Hugh had been close since medical school,   
   a friendship that had put Mulder through an agony of   
   jealousy until he finally learned that Hugh was gay.   
   Tim McCloskey was a rookie agent.  If a gay man could   
   be described as a "straight arrow," then Tim was that   
   man.   
      
   "No.  Oh no."  Hugh's voice was dry and furious.   
      
   "He's been shot," Scully said gently.   
      
   God, there was no easy way to break bad news.   
   She and Mulder had to deliver more than they   
   wanted, and it never got easier.  Hugh's face   
   showed his shock.  He staggered back a few feet   
   and sat down hard on the carpeted landing of the   
   circular staircase leading to the second floor.   
      
   "Come on," Scully said, crouching next to Hugh.   
   "Why don't you get dressed and we'll go to the   
   hospital."   
      
   Hugh stood up, his legs looking as if they might   
   give out on him, so Mulder stepped forward to   
   take his arm and move him up the stairs.   
      
   Scully glanced around the room while she waited   
   for the men.  Trust Hugh to have the very best,   
   she thought.  The room looked like a magazine   
   layout, from the rich colors of the upholstery   
   to the bowl of apples and pears on the coffee   
   table.   
      
   "Let's go," Mulder said, as he followed a tense   
   looking Hugh down the stairs.   
      
   They didn't speak as they descended in the elevator.   
   Hugh was pale under his perpetual tennis tan.   He   
   made no comment as they climbed into Scully's car--   
   no jokes about not being caught dead in a Taurus,   
   no suggestions that they take his Lexus.   
      
   "What happened?" Hugh asked quietly from the back   
   seat.  "How the hell did he get shot."  Hugh's   
   voice broke on the last word.   
      
   Mulder had his phone to his ear, nodding as he   
   listened, interrupting occasionally to ask a   
   question.   
      
   "We'll see what we can find out," Scully said.   
      
   "And why GW?  Why the hell did they take him   
   there?"  Hugh barked.   
      
   "I'm sure they took him to the nearest appropriate   
   facility," she answered soothingly.  "It's a good   
   hospital, Hugh.  They've pulled Mulder through many   
   times."   
      
   Mulder closed his phone and turned around in his seat.   
      
   "Tim's in surgery.  Chest wound.  He was the seller   
   in a sting operation.  One of the buyers just flipped   
   out and started shooting.  The shooter is dead.   
   Tim's partner took him out."   
      
   "I don't understand how this happened.  Tim would have   
   worn body armor.  He promised me," Hugh said in a choked   
   voice.   
      
   "He did.  But one shot went in above the vest," Mulder   
   explained.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)