From: msk1024@yahoo.com
Title: Forgive Us Our Trespasses
Author: Taffy Northwood
E-Mail: taffyxf@yahoo.com
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Category: AU, MSR
Archives: Just ask.
Feedback: Never in bad taste
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, Skinner and any
other XF characters are on loan only.
Summary: In 1909 New York City, there were two
distinct and separate worlds: that of the very wealthy
and that of the very poor. Could love bridge the
great divide between those worlds for two star-crossed
lovers?
Author Notes: Like a huge part of the fandom, I've
become absolutely dotty over AU fic. This is my
modest attempt to put Mulder and Scully into another
time and place. Please be aware, this is a
work-in-progress.
Forgive Us Our Trespasses - Katie Scully's story, part 8
"Miss Scully? Are you all right, Miss Scully?
You look...like you have pain."
She blinked, raising a shaky hand to her mouth.
"Pain" was too fragile a word to describe what
Katie was feeling.
"I...I'm fine," she stammered. "Just a little
tired."
Katie straightened her spine, willing herself
not to collapse, not to scream.
"I am terrible person, Miss Scully. I have not
thanked you for bringing me letter." Dmitri
was looking at her with such kindness and concern.
Katie was afraid she might burst into tears in
front of him.
"I'm glad it was good news," she said, her voice
shaking. "I should go. It's getting late."
Katie peered around the alcove's curtain. Mathew
and that woman were following the maitre d'hotel
into the restaurant. As she watched them disappear
from view, Katie wondered if a person could die
of a broken heart.
With a hurried goodnight, Katie bolted from the
restaurant. She walked quickly along William
Street, dodging pedestrians. She paid no attention
to the direction, her only desire to get as
far away from Delmonico's as possible.
She'd been a fool. A complete and utter idiot.
"I love you," Mathew had said and she'd believed
him. "We'll honeymoon in Venice," he'd told her
and she drank his words like sweet nectar.
She had prided herself on logic and acumen. Katie
was a modern woman who followed the teachings of
Emma Goldman and rejected the idea that marriage
was the only option for a woman. Her nursing career
had made her useful, given her life purpose.
Katie remembered looking down on silly girls who
read lurid romantic stories where young women were
duped into false marriages and left in ruin. How
ironic, she thought. She'd become a character in
a tawdry novel.
Her rationality had failed her the moment she'd
fallen in love with Mathew Fox.
Except he wasn't Mathew Fox, was he? He was Fox
Mulder and he was going to marry someone else. He'd
tricked her like some gullible milkmaid. She'd been
a right and proper goose, believing his lies.
Other girls fell in love twice a week, but Katie
had always known there were things she wanted to
accomplish, so she guarded her feelings carefully.
She had given Mathew her heart.
As Katie walked along block after block, her weeks
with Mathew Fox passed before her eyes as if she
were watching a motion picture show. She saw herself
tending him after his scuffle with Tom Colton, saw
them talking the night away. Katie remembered what
it felt like to kiss Mathew under the boardwalk.
She relived each caress, each touch, each time they
made love. Katie felt bile rise up in her throat at
that memory and stopped walking. She took a deep
breath in an effort not to be sick.
Where was she? She'd walked so far, so fast and
hadn't cared which direction she traveled as long
as it took her far from Mathew. She really had to
stop referring to him as Mathew. He was Fox Mulder.
Fox Mulder. She repeated it to herself. It sounded
ridiculous in her head.
Exhaustion enveloped her as the emotional burst of
energy began to fail. She had to rest, but where?
Katie couldn't go back to the settlement house.
Mathew would arrive soon, unaware that she'd found him
out. He'd toss pebbles against her window, expecting
her to let him in and give him her body. She most
definitely could not go there.
She couldn't go to the boarding house, either. Her
mother had watched her like a hawk today. Maggie Scully
was a shrewd, observant woman--traits that had served
her well as a mother and as proprietress of the boarding
house. Ma would know immediately that something was
wrong and then Bill would find out and harass her
until it all spilled out.
She stood on a street corner, with tears in her eyes.
She was so tired. Katie looked at the street sign,
amazed that in her dazed condition she'd managed to
get to Delancey Street. Now, she knew where she
might find rest.
Katie walked along Delancey, until she reached the
mighty Williamsburg Bridge. Brooklyn beckoned on
the other side--a place where there were no memories
of Mathew Fox to torment her.
It was a good thing she wasn't inclined to be hysterical,
Katie mused as she paused on the bridge to look down at
the murky water. In the melodramatic novels, the wronged
heroine would have attempted to toss herself into the
dark river, only to be rescued by the stout-hearted
hero. But no hero was likely to save Katie.
She was exhausted almost to the point of insensibility
when she arrived at her sister's apartment in Williamsburg.
She trudged up the three flights of stairs, pulling herself
along by the railing. The smell of cabbage and onions hung
in the air from the suppers that had been cooked that
evening. In one of the second floor apartments, a baby
was crying.
"Katie!" Danny Murphy exclaimed as he opened the door.
"Is anything wrong?"
"Everything is fine, Danny," she said peering past him
through the parlor down the long hall to the kitchen.
"Is Missy home?"
"Yes, of course. Come in," he said. He still looked
worried. "You're sure everything is all right? Your
family?"
"Everyone's fine," she said. Considering the Scullys'
bad opinion of Danny, it was generous of him to ask about
them. "Where's Missy?"
"She'll be getting the boys to bed. I'll fetch her."
Danny studied her face for a moment before leaving Katie
alone in the parlor.
She'd always liked her brother-in-law. Danny was a good
man, who loved Missy and his sons. He was a meat cutter
who made a good pay which didn't always make it home to
his family.
Unfortunately, like so many Irish boys, Danny had a
problem with the drink. Too often, Danny could be
found at the tavern down the street and too often,
he drank until he forgot his responsibilities to Missy
and their sons. At least tonight, there was no scent
of whiskey clinging to Danny.
"Katie?," Missy asked as she came into the parlor through
the little "railroad" hallway of the apartment. "What in
the sweet name a heaven are ya doin' here so late? You
look like you walked all the way from the old country."
"Only from New York," Katie said, with a faint smile.
"I wanted to see you." Katie hoped she sounded matter of
fact, and that her knees wouldn't buckle in front of her
sister.
[continued in next message]
--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
* Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)
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