From: taffyxf@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 - Fox Mulder's story.  Part 10   
      
   He wasn't drunk.  Not yet, at least.  Fox Mulder   
   took another sip of scotch whiskey and waited for   
   the familiar fire as it slid all the way down to   
   his belly.  No, he wasn't drunk, but if the last   
   few days had taught him anything, it was that the   
   anesthetic qualities of hard liquor were vastly   
   overrated.   
      
   His heart felt as if it had been pierced through.   
   Even when he closed his eyes, the image of Katie's   
   face was before him, pain pouring off her like   
   rainwater.  He brought the heavy cut glass tumbler   
   to his mouth and swallowed another mouthful.   
      
   Placing his glass on the mahogany table, he reached   
   into his pocket and withdrew an envelope.  The   
   paper felt dry and brittle in his fingers.   
      
   "Refused," he read, softly, as if saying it aloud   
   would help him believe it.  "Refused."   
      
   Fox could still smell the furniture wax the maid had   
   used when she'd dusted and polished the parlor that   
   morning.  Of course, now the smell was overlaid   
   with the smoke from Fox's cigar.  The room was quiet   
   and cool, suiting his dark mood.   
      
   "Fox, dear, how many times have I asked you and your   
   father not to smoke cigars in the parlor?  The stench   
   hangs in the air for days."   
      
   His mother stood in the doorway, exasperation plain on   
   her face.  He'd expected something more than irritation   
   from his mother this afternoon.   
      
   "I'm sorry, Mother," he said, stubbing the cigar out   
   slowly.  He hadn't been enjoying it anyway.  "How was   
   the Orchid Society Luncheon?"   
      
   "It was just lovely.  Mrs. Schuyler certainly outdid   
   herself with the menu and floral arrangements.  I think   
   she bought up every orchid east of the Mississippi.   
   And, of course Diana was simply radiant, as always."   
      
   "Radiant, was she?  Didn't she have some important news   
   to announce?  Something shocking?"   
      
   "No, darling.  Why on earth would you ask that?  Fox,   
   is something wrong?  You've been looking perfectly   
   dreadful, dear.  Why aren't you at work?  Are you   
   ill?"   
      
   "She didn't say anything about calling off the wedding?"   
      
   "Of course not, dear," his mother said, sitting next to   
   him on the settee.  She took his hand, shocking him a   
   bit with the uncharacteristic gesture.  "Fox, I know   
   you're a little overwhelmed by the thought of marriage,   
   but remember, Diana will be right by your side."   
      
   "There will be no marriage," he choked out.   
      
   "Oh darling, every bridegroom goes through some   
   uncertainty.  It's perfectly natural."   
      
   "No, Mother.  There will be no marriage.  I'm not   
   marrying Diana Fowley and she knows it.  She promised   
   me...she gave me her word that she would tell everyone   
   at the luncheon."   
      
   "You're talking nonsense, Fox.  Of course there's going   
   to be a wedding.  Diana's planning an engagement party   
   for next month."   
      
   He was on his feet in a moment, pacing from the fireplace   
   to the window and back.  Diana had given her word.  He'd   
   gone to her the day after Katie had confronted him with his   
   deception.  Fox had been a fool living in a dream, just as   
   Katie had said.  While he'd played out his fantasy with the   
   woman he loved, real life and Diana Fowley had seemed like   
   a distant mirage.   
      
   The price he'd paid in allowing Diana to bring the engagement   
   to an end on her own terms had been far too high.  He'd lost   
   the only woman he'd ever loved and he had no desire to   
   continue the fabrication, even if Diana and the Schuylers   
   made his family suffer.   
      
   Skinner had been right.  Diana was never going to break   
   the engagement on her own terms.  She would try and wear   
   him down until she could seduce him to the altar.  Damn it,   
   he wasn't going to participate a day longer.   
      
   "No matter," he bit out.  "I'll take matters into my own   
   hands, tonight."   
      
   "Dear?" his mother asked, her voice tremulous.  She   
   tolerated his eccentricities and smiled at what she   
   considered his youthful enthusiasm.  His desperation   
   frightened her.  "Are you going to work?"   
      
   "I don't think that I will," Fox answered, downing the   
   last of his scotch.  He stood with eyes closed and allowed   
   the fire to penetrate his heart.  "I'm going out for   
   a while."   
      
   "You'll be back in time for Mrs. Phelps' dinner party,   
   won't you, dear?"   
      
   "Never fear, Mother.  I wouldn't miss it for the world."   
      
   Giving instructions to Edgar to bring his car around, Fox   
   waited in the bright sunlight for the Pierce Arrow to   
   pull in front of the house.  The car had been a slight act   
   of rebellion.  His father had been nearly apoplectic when   
   he found that Fox had purchased the car that President   
   Taft had made popular by purchasing two of them earlier   
   in the year.   
      
   Fox pulled away from the curb.  He'd bought the car with   
   the intention of thrilling Katie.  He'd pictured them side   
   by side, touring along country roads.  Now, he drove the   
   vehicle through the neighborhoods where he hoped to catch   
   a glimpse of her.   
      
   In the two weeks since Katie had discovered his true identity,   
   he'd spent more than a few nights parked in front of the   
   bordello that stood a stone's throw from the settlement house.   
   The bawdy house was a source of much embarrassment to Katie,   
   but Fox found it ideal camouflage for the Pierce Arrow.   
   Anyone spotting him sitting in his car would assume he was   
   a chauffeur.   
      
   Hidden in the darkness, he'd watched the comings and goings   
   of the people who attended the classes and programs.  He   
   knew it was wrong.  Katie would see it as the worst kind of   
   violation, second only to deceiving her with his identity.   
   But he couldn't help himself.  The need to be near her in   
   any capacity was too strong to resist.   
      
   He would hold his breath waiting for a glimpse of Katie.   
   Last week, he'd nearly gone mad when he spotted her   
   leaving the settlement house with a tall, dark-haired man.   
      
   The next days had taken a terrible toll on Fox.  He'd been   
   alternately eaten up with jealousy, angry with Katie for   
   moving on with such ease, angry with Diana for holding   
   onto him with such tenacity, and angry with himself for   
   botching everything and losing Katie.   
      
   He'd drunk himself into a stupor each night.  Each morning,   
   he'd been unable to rise from his bed.  Luckily, his   
   father had assumed he spent his evenings with Diana and   
   had admonished him that he'd wear himself out before the   
   wedding.  And each evening he returned to prowl the streets   
   around Katie's neighborhood.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)