From: taffyxf@yahoo.com
Title: Forgive Us Our Trespasses
Author: Taffy Northwood
E-Mail: taffyxf@yahoo.com
Rating: NC17 (now and then)
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 1911 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 - Mr. and Mrs. Fox Mulder's
story - Part 22
Tonight the questions were simple.
Where is my sister? Has anyone seen my daughter? Is
my brother OK?
Tomorrow the questions would be more profound, but
somehow easier to answer. How did this happen? Who
is to blame?
The waiting room at the clinic was crowded, with men,
women and children sitting on chairs or standing
together in clusters. Occasionally someone wailed or
broke into loud sobs that would quickly quiet and fade
back into the general rush of voices.
The languages were strange but required no
translation.
Shayna made her rounds as briskly as ever, clutching
her clipboard and writing down names. Mulder saw that
she'd appointed deputies, who circulated with
clipboards of their own.
Shayna approached him, her face frozen with grief.
"We gotta do somethin' about feedin' these people,"
she said.
Mulder tried to measure if it was Shayna or himself
who was not making sense.
"At a time like this?" he asked.
"It don't help the dead to starve the living. Make
some coffee."
There was a percolator in the kitchen, and some cups.
But there were dozens of people milling around the
clinic, and probably more to come. The problem
coalesced in his mind and turned into one he could
solve, with the help of a telephone.
"Edgar, I need coffee and sandwiches for. . . about
two hundred," he instructed the butler. "At Mrs.
Katherine's clinic, as soon as you can arrange it."
"Very good, sir," Edgar answered.
Mulder walked through the exam rooms in the back,
where Shayna's squad of helpers had brought those who
were too distraught to tolerate the waiting room. In
one room he found Izzy Berkowit, stretched out on the
floor, sketching on a yellow pad.
"Drawing?" Mulder asked.
Izzy didn't look up.
"I shouldn't be here," he said flatly.
"Come help up front." Izzy was a big, strong kid.
Mulder could find him a useful task.
"Go chase yerself."
"I can take you home," Mulder offered.
"I oughtta be dead."
There was no quick answer, but Mulder felt obliged to
respond.
"That's not for us to decide."
Izzy shrugged indifferently, his pencil moving rapidly
on the page.
"She's pretty," Mulder said, nodding at Izzy's
portrait.
"She's dead."
Mulder had no words of wisdom or even of comfort, and
he left Izzy to his sketching. In the next room he
found two young girls, sitting side by side on the
exam table and clasping hands.
Again words came hard, and Mulder found himself
asking:
"Are you hungry?"
The smaller girl looked up.
"We got potatoes 'n cabbage 'n a big bone with even
some fat on it," she said, tears flowing down her
face.
The older girl spoke in a whisper.
"Her supper's all ready but she ain't comin' home."
"I'm so sorry," Mulder said. "Your mother?"
"My big sister Rosie," the girl said.
"Ma died when we was kids. Then Rosie took care of us.
And now me and Ruthie, but Ruthie's too little."
"I'll take care of you, Goldie. I always will."
Mulder pressed some dollars into her hand, disgusted
with himself as he did so. He couldn't stay in the
room.
One of Shayna's clipboard ladies found him in the
hallway to call him to the telephone. Grasping the
candlestick body, he held the receiver to his ear.
"Sir, I called to speak to Mrs. Mulder, but they say
she isn't there."
He recognized the voice of Mairead's nursemaid.
"Miss Muir, is something wrong?" he asked. The
tentative voice on the phone gave him a jagged shock
of fear that ripped through his numbness.
"Nothing's wrong that I could say, sir, but I think
you would want to come home."
"Is Mairead ill? Did something happen?" he asked
sharply.
"Mairead is very well, sir," Miss Muir said. "Your
mother had me bring her to the drawing room to visit
with Mr. Spender."
"I will be right there."
He emptied his pockets and gave Shayna all he had,
promising to make good on any needed expenses. He
drove uptown, wishing that Katie was beside him but
unwilling to take the time to find her. Home at last,
he left the Pierce Arrow idling by the curb and ran up
the steps two at a time.
"Where is my daughter?" he asked Edgar.
"In the drawing room, sir, but I'm sure you'll want
to dress for dinner."
Mulder realized that his trousers were wet and torn,
and his coat was filthy. He peeled off the coat and
shoved it at the butler before he ran to the parlor.
"Please see to my motorcar," he called over his
shoulder.
With soot on his own face and smoke in his nose and
throat, Mulder saw the cigarette before he smelled it.
"Fox! What have you been doing?" Teena asked as he
burst into the room.
His mother sat on the divan. On the floor, long legs
crossed gracefully beneath him, sat Cornelius Spender,
and not an arm's length away sat Mairead.
"Again, again," she cackled.
"If the lady commands it, I must obey," Spender said.
He shot a smug glance at Mulder, then launched into a
cheerful rendition of "I'm a Little Teapot." Mairead
laughed and clapped her hands at his antics.
"Oh, Cornelius, you're like a child yourself," Teena
said. "Can you believe this, Fox?"
"No, Mother, I can't," he answered, scooping his child
from the floor.
"Papa, no!" she complained.
"Come with me, Mairead. We can play upstairs until
bedtime."
"No, no, no! More gampa!"
"Games upstairs, my darling," Mulder said. Mairead
stiffened and jerked, her face turning red.
"Honestly, Fox. You and Katherine leave Margaret to
her own devices all hours of the day and night, and
then you fly into a rage because Cornelius shows her
some kindness."
"It's just fatherly pride, Teena, and perfectly
understandable. Why not let Mairead enjoy another
rousing song while you wash up, Fox. It can't be
good for her to be near you like that."
Mairead's furious shrieks stung Mulder's ears as he
carried her upstairs. At least it spared him from
hearing anything further from his mother or Spender.
In the nursery he found Skinner and Miss Muir, the
latter looking apprehensive.
"I hope you didn't find me impertinent, sir--oh, Mr.
Mulder! What happened to you?"
He gave his angry offspring to the nursemaid.
"A terrible fire at one of the factories," he said.
"Anyone hurt?" Skinner asked.
"Miss Muir, if Mairead could have her bath now,"
Mulder said, quietly.
[continued in next message]
--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
* Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)
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