From: char@chaffin.com   
      
   ROCKY MOUNTAIN INTERLUDE, Chapter Two   
   By Char Chaffin and Tess   
   MSR, Casefile, AU   
   Rating:  Strong R   
   Spoilers:  FTF, Most of Season Seven   
      
   Disclaimers:  Clones on Loan   
      
   Thanks:  To Sallie, Carol and Teresa for beta above and beyond the   
   call of duty; to Robin, Donna, AlyC and Shelba for preview and   
   advice!  Ladies, you're the tops!   
      
   Summary:  While vacationing in Colorado Mulder and Scully uncover   
   disturbing evidence that reflects the history of the alien virus -   
      
      
      
   Chapter Two   
   Millersburg Mine   
   Rocky Mountain Foothills   
      
   They made good time on the back roads that wound through the   
   foothills of the lower Rockies, reaching the turn-off to the   
   Millersburg Mine roughly an hour after leaving Estes Park.  Scully   
   couldn't complain; the drive had been spectacular.  Blindingly blue   
   skies and an overload of green and flowering meadows, dotted with   
   rocky hills and the lower mountain range in the background, the area   
   was a visual treat.  The narrow road had been almost deserted, and   
   they'd only passed a few cars.  Either Millersburg was relatively   
   unknown or else few travelers on vacation were all that interested in   
   ghost towns.   
      
   Well, leave it to Mulder... who caught her resigned grin as she   
   slowed down and took the turn.  He flicked his sunglasses off his   
   nose and demanded, "What?  You can't tell me you haven't been   
   enjoying the drive, Scully.  I know you better than that."   
      
   "I'm loving the drive, Mulder.  Very picturesque.  I was just   
   noticing the lack of tourists in the vicinity, and thinking that we   
   might be the only people in a hundred-mile area that care about   
   poking around an abandoned mine.  That's all."  She parked in a sandy   
   area nearby a large wooden sign that proclaimed they were 'At the   
   Site of One of Colorado's Most Mysterious Ghost Mines.'  Below those   
   words was a smaller plaque that detailed Millersburg statistics:   
   initial population, mining history, plus a list of notable flora and   
   fauna that could be found nearby.   
      
   They climbed out of their rented Jeep and stretched stiff muscles,   
   then clasped hands as they wandered down the rough path that formed   
   behind the placard sign.  There was a light breeze in the air,   
   helping to ease the baking heat of the sun.  In the lower foothills   
   the climate was much dryer and hotter this time of year.   
      
   Scully peeled the damp shirt away from her back and complained, "I   
   wish I hadn't let you talk me out of that tank top I wanted to wear.   
   I'm already soaked to the skin."  She eyed Mulder irritably, envying   
   him the ability to tramp around in ninety-degree heat and barely   
   break a sweat.   
      
   He grinned at her in mock-sympathy and lifted the damp hair off her   
   neck, fanning her with his free hand.  Scully sighed in relief and   
   murmured her thanks; Mulder nuzzled her cheek before dropping her   
   hair and propelling her back toward the Jeep.  "Come on, SweatyGirl.   
   Back to the air-conditioned interior of this prime rental vehicle.   
   Let's drive as far into the mine area as we can and stay cool at the   
   same time."   
      
   "Sounds like a plan to me.  I'll even let you drive."   
      
   "Gee, thanks, Scully.  You're too good to me," he deadpanned.   
      
   She swallowed a chuckle.  "Damn straight, Mulder."   
      
   They piled back in the Jeep and flipped the air on full-blast,   
   buckled themselves in and nosed their way along the pot-holed road.   
   On either side, overgrown weeds and grasses were dotted with   
   wildflowers and thin aspen trees stood out in stark contrast to the   
   bright blue sky.  The look of the town itself appeared as sparse   
   buildings on the very outskirts, thickening into a rudimentary   
   cluster of what might have been anything from a saloon to a post   
   office or general store.  They found themselves trying to guess aloud   
   as they drove slowly past wooden structures in various stages of   
   collapse, boards bleached and warped from almost a hundred and fifty   
   years of sun, wind, rain and snow.   
      
   "That looks like the local beer joint, doesn't it?  You can almost   
   see the swinging doors, if you squint."  Mulder pointed to a caved-in   
   wooden frame that had one large side window and a gaping hole for a   
   doorway.  The raised sidewalk that ran along the front of the saloon   
   was broken in pieces, especially around the window. "Know any good   
   beer-drinking songs, Scully?"   
      
   She could just imagine a drunken miner getting tossed out through   
   that large gap, after some kind of barroom brawl.  Scully stared at   
   the old structure, seeing it in just that way, and she couldn't help   
   but smile.  "As a matter of fact, I had a great-uncle who was fond of   
   his beer, and was known to chug down a pitcher; then belt out a tune   
   or two.  I think his favorite was 'Behind the Swinging Doors'."  She   
   hummed a little, then quoted, "'the doors swing in and the doors   
   swing out... where some pass in and others pass out...'"   
      
   "Hey, I've heard that one!"  Mulder was delighted.  "I remember one   
   of the lines went, 'the story is told of a fool and his gold...   
   behind the swinging doors.'  How completely apropos, considering   
   where we are right now. You continually amaze me with your knowledge   
   of really old, really obscure tunes, Scully.  I'm gonna have to get   
   you to sing me to sleep again, one of these days."   
      
   She snorted, "Like that'll happen any time soon.  Dream on, Mulder."   
      
   "You can bet I will."	   
      
   They drove on through until the buildings thinned out again, which   
   took very little time.  They could have literally thrown a rock from   
   end to end of Millersburg proper.  Once past the town, the rutted   
   road narrowed and steepened as it wound through the lower hills and   
   the mine came into view.   
      
   "Wow.  Check that out, Scully.  I can't believe a place this cool   
   isn't lousy with tourists and cheesy gift shops - and very glad it   
   isn't.  We should go up to that first hill and enjoy the view with   
   our lunch."  Mulder stopped the Jeep within a few yards of the   
   collapsed mine entrance and they got out, reaching into the rear seat   
   for the plastic bags they'd loaded with picnic supplies.  With their   
   hands full, they started up the incline toward the mining caves.   
      
   Despite the hot day, he was glad they'd worn jeans and cotton   
   shirts, sturdy hiking boots.  The ground was rough and there were low   
   bushes full of prickly thistles.  Although the incline wasn't   
   unbearably steep, they weren't used to the over-bright sun and higher   
   elevation, and found themselves out of breath by the time they   
   reached the first large cave.   
      
   By mutual consent they stopped there and unloaded their bags.   
   Scully had borrowed a small blanket that was obviously meant to cover   
   the hide-a-bed in their hotel room.  Since they had no intention of   
   sleeping on it, she figured it would make an adequate tablecloth -   
   and it did.  She pulled it from her bag and began to spread it out;   
   Mulder eyed it dubiously as he fished out plastic utensils and   
   napkins.   
      
   "That looks suspiciously like the spare blanket from our room,   
   Scully.  Lay it down on the ground and it's gonna get all dirty and   
   thistle-y.  I hear the temperature is supposed to drop to fifty   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)