Virtual Season 14: Crossover Special: Another Piece of Cherry Pie
  Author: Vickie Moseley 
  Rating: E for everybody 
  Category: X, MSR, A, some MT 
  Summary:  Mulder and Scully investigate a murder in Twin Peaks, Washington and 
  stumble into a world unlike any they have ever encountered.
  Category:  X, MSR, A, some MT
  Disclaimer:  Characters here in are supplied by Twentieth Century Fox, 1013 
  Productions, CBS Television and David Lynch and his production company.  No 
  copyright infringement intended.
  Archive:  Two weeks exclusive VS website. 
  Author's note:  When my season 2 Twin Peaks DVDs arrived, I was thrilled.  My 
  immediate thought was to make a crossover of my two favorite male FBI agents 
  -- Cooper and Mulder.  I soon discovered why David Lynch is considered such a 
  genius.  There are WAY too many threads in that show!  And some of the ones I 
  picked may not be the ones you remember (if you even watched), so please 
  forgive me.  If something seems off or if you feel I neglected your favorite 
  "Peaks resident" please remember, I had to keep this to 35K.  


Forest outside Twin Peaks, WA
Sheriff Harry S. Truman stood at the base of a large and still growing sycamore 
tree.  Sighing, he looked down at the body on the ground before him.  The neck 
was broken by the way the head was angled.  Deep slashes across the torso were 
near black from the blood pooling on the ground.  If not for the eye patch, he 
might not have recognized the victim.
"I'll call the doc.  You want to go over and give Ed the bad news?"  The voice 
of Deputy Hawk Hill almost startled the Sheriff.  
"Yeah," he said, shaking his head.  "I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this."
Hawk nodded slowly.  "Are you going to put in a call to -- is there anyone back 
there who would even care?"
"We have to call the FBI, Hawk.  It's what Coop would want."
Hawk, a tall graying man of obvious Native American heritage, shook his head.  
"It's just like Windom Earle, isn't it, Harry?"
Harry nodded in agreement.  "But this time, maybe we can get to the bottom of it 
sooner rather than later.  We have a good idea who we're lookin' for.  We just 
have to find him before he kills again."
FBI Regional Office
Seattle, WA
April 23, 2007
Skinner looked around the assembled group of agents.  Mulder and Scully were 
seated to his immediate right, along with two other members of the Seattle 
office, Agents Morrow and Klein.  The local ASAC, Tim Watkins, sat to Skinner's 
left next to a member of the Marshall's Service, Frank Haglund.
"Thank you all for coming," he started the meeting.  "The file in front of you 
is very delicate for the Bureau.  I appreciate all the help given to us by the 
other agencies in this matter."  He nodded to Watkins, who dimmed the lights and 
turned on a slide projector.  A dark haired man, good looking, with serious eyes 
stared down at the assembled from the screen at the end of the room.  
"This is former Special Agent Dale Cooper.  Cooper was a ten year veteran of the 
Bureau, an exemplary agent who was being considered for supervisory positions 
until he came to Twin Peaks, Washington to investigate a murder with possible 
serial markers." Skinner clicked the remote and the image changed to a young 
girl with blond hair, smiling for a graduation picture.  "This is Laura Palmer, 
the murder victim Cooper came to investigate."  Images flashed quickly on the 
screen.  "Cooper spent a little over a year in Twin Peaks, to the exclusion of 
any other cases.  He stumbled on drug deals, other murders, eventually jailing 
several suspects but it was finally discovered that Laura was murdered by 
Cooper's former partner at the FBI, this man, Windom Earle."  The screen showed 
another stock Bureau shot of an older man with gray hair.
"Earle was an escapee from an institution for the criminally insane.  He has 
never been found.  However, Cooper, after a mysterious disappearance, was found 
in the forest by the local Sheriff.  It was the day after this disappearance 
that Agent Cooper was found also to be mentally unstable and was remanded to the 
Washington State Hospital where he remained a patient until three weeks ago."
A final picture, this time of a crime scene, flashed on the screen.  "This is 
Nadine Hurley.  She was found in the same woods that Cooper disappeared in 16 
years ago.  She was murdered in the same manner as Laura Palmer.  There was a 
piece of paper found under the nail of her left ring finger -- similar to the 
letters found on the bodies of Palmer and the first murder victim, Theresa 
Banks."  Skinner turned off the projector with a flick of the remote.  Watkins 
brought up the lights.  "That letter was a 'C'.  Questions?"
"How positive are we that Earle killed the first two victims?" Agent Morrow 
asked.  
Skinner drew in a deep breath.  "We aren't.  Since he was never apprehended, 
there was no trial.  But all evidence points to him, including several 
eyewitness accounts, most notably a young woman by the name of Annie Blackburn, 
who was abducted by Earle.  Cooper was actually in the process of tracking and 
arresting Earle and freeing Ms. Blackburn when he disappeared.  Ms. Blackburn 
was found with Cooper the next day, both were unconscious.  It was Ms. Blackburn 
who correctly identified Earle and said he confessed to the killings."
"So who are we looking for -- Earle or Cooper?" Klein asked.
"Earle would be in his early 70s right now," Mulder spoke up.  "The UNSUB who 
killed Mrs. Hurley had to have been able to drag her through the woods.  
Footprint casings also point to a man who wears a size 10 and a half shoe.  The 
same size as former Agent Cooper.  According to Earle's records, he wore a 9."
"In all likelihood, Windom Earle is dead.  It's even been speculated that 
killing him, while defending Ms. Blackburn, was what drove Cooper out of his 
mind.  Right now, it appears that Cooper is reliving this case that took so much 
of his life.  Our job is to find him before another murder," Skinner intoned.
Great Northern Hotel
Twin Peaks
11:21 pm
Scully nodded to the young desk clerk.  "Hello.  My name is Agent Dana Scully.  
I believe my partner checked me in this afternoon.  I need my room key, please."
"Certainly, Agent Scully.  You're in room 303.  You're partner requested an 
adjoining room."  The young woman winked and smiled.  Scully sighed, took the 
key with a nod of thanks and headed off to find their rooms.
"Mulder, I really think we should try to be a little less conspicuous.  
Especially with other agencies staying here at the hotel," she said as she 
entered his room through the connecting door.
"Let 'em get their own girls," he quipped without bothering to move from his 
slouched position on the bed.  "Find anything in the autopsy?"
"Aside from the fact that Nadine Hurley looked like she'd been 'rode hard and 
put away wet', as my dear Aunt Laura used to say?"  Mulder snickered and moved 
over so she could join him on the bed.  "Basically, she was stabbed repeatedly 
and strangled.  But she was dragged through the woods, I think he might have 
dragged her by her hair."  Mulder winced but didn't interrupt.  "I put the time 
of death somewhere between midnight and 5 am."
"Latents?" he asked hopefully.
"Gloves were probably used.  I did find one print, we'll see if they can make 
anything out of it.  Sorry.  I picked up some fibers, but it could have been 
while she was being dragged.  She was not sexually assaulted, but she'd had 
intercourse within the last 12 hours before death."
"Maybe this isn't Cooper.  Maybe it's a lover's quarrel," Mulder suggested.
"But I thought Laura Palmer was strangled and there was the letter found under 
the nail," Scully countered.  "Mulder," she asked, picking up a small tape 
recorder.  "What are you doing, auditioning for American Idol?"
He grinned at her and started the tape.  "Get a load of this Scully.  Just 
listen."  
A disembodied voice filled the room.  It was masculine and well modulated -- 
easy to listen to.  "Diane.  They were out of cherry pie today.  I think I got 
the last piece yesterday.  Norma made a blueberry pie and it was out of this 
world.  Josie Packard has been acting strangely lately.  I believe this visiting 
cousin of hers is more than he appears.  Could be tangled up in the Renault drug 
cartel.  I have to contact Agent Bryson in the next day or two and ask 
him-slash-her if there are suspected dealings in the Far East.  In addition to 
the pie, I had the blue plate special -- meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, 
corn, roll and butter and coffee.  Came to 5.95 with tax, I left a dollar tip.  
No time for dinner."
Scully stared at him, one brow cocked and demanding an explanation.  
"Dale Cooper has hundreds of these, Scully.  Skinner said they were with his 
belongings locked up at the mental hospital.  Little audiocassettes documenting 
almost every move he made while he was investigating the Palmer murder.  He even 
marked them with the dates!"
"Who is Josie Packard?  Was she a suspect?"
"Listening to these tapes, I think every resident of Twin Peaks was a suspect at 
one time or another.  But no, he suspected her of being involved in a drug deal 
on this side of the border with Canada, not of the murder.  Scully, these tapes 
are a gold mine!  Don't you see -- his thoughts are right here, in his own 
voice.  I would have killed for this kind of insight back when I was profiling 
full time."
She frowned and rolled off the bed.  "And with those words, I'm going next door 
and getting some sleep.  Don't stay up all night, Mulder."
As she made her way across the room he looked up.  "Hey, I could always use a 
break.  Wanna wrestle?"  He wiggled his eyebrows and patted the pillow next to 
him in invitation.
"When we get home," she responded with a yawn.  "Or if you catch me in a good 
mood in the morning.  I'm setting the alarm for 6:15.  If you're there by 5:30 
-- you might get lucky."
Twin Peaks Sheriff's Office
8:15 am
Mulder schooled his features into a more professional mask as he guided Scully 
through the door to the Sheriff's Office.  The woman behind the receptionist's 
desk was talking on the phone.  Her high-pitched voice reminded Mulder of nails 
on a chalkboard.
"No, I told you, Daddy is on his way to pick you all up to take you to school.  
No, Andy Jr. can NOT drive you -- he only has his permit, not his license.  Well 
tell the twins they'd better get their shoes on -- Mommy said so.  Look, there's 
somebody here, I have to go.  Get your book bags and be ready when Daddy gets 
there.  Love you.  Bye!"  She wiped a strand of curly blond hair out of her eyes 
and smiled at the two agents.  "Hello.  You must be Agents Mulder and Scully.  
Everyone's already in the conference room, it's the door right over there."
"Thank you, um . . . "
"Lucy.  Lucy Brennen.  Nice to make your acquaintance," she smiled brightly.  
The conference room table was longer than either agent had expected and covered 
with . . . donuts?  Every possible variation -- glazed, powdered, cinnamon, 
chocolate glazed with sprinkles.  They were lined up in straight lines almost 
like little soldiers.  Mulder's eyes lit up as he reached for a chocolate 
covered circle sans sprinkles and snatched it off the table.  Out of the corner 
of his eye he caught Scully's warning glare before quickly stuffing half the 
object into his mouth.  
"Coffee?" asked the good-looking man with dark hair just graying at the temples.
"Yesh," Mulder mumbled around the confection he was still attempting to chew. 
The other agents were indeed already seated around the table.  From the breaks 
in donut formation, it appeared that Mulder and Scully were considerably late, 
or the others were just particularly hungry.  Scully accepted the coffee mugs 
handed to her, passing one over to her partner while giving him a strong kick to 
the shins which he chose to ignore.  
"Well, seems some introductions are in order," said the man replacing the coffee 
pot.  "I'm Sheriff Harry Truman.  This gentleman to my left is Deputy Hawk Hill. 
 Our other deputy, Andy Brennen, will be with us shortly, he has the school run 
today."  Truman looked expectantly at Mulder and Scully.  Since Mulder had yet 
another donut in his mouth, Scully smiled wanly and introduced them both.
"Great!" Truman said enthusiastically.  "Great to have you all here.  Now, I 
know this is your show, but Hawk and I are at your complete disposal.  Real sad 
what's goin' on.  It's been a few years and things have finally settled back 
into normal around here.  We'd just as soon keep it that way."
The agents went around the table, dividing up avenues of investigation.  Haglund 
asked Morrow and Klein to join him in interviewing the staff at the mental 
hospital, some 40 miles from Twin Peaks.  Mulder and Scully agreed to interview 
the victim's family and other residents of the town.  They would all join up 
again that night.  Truman offered to drive them around to their interviews.  
Before they left the station, Lucy called out to them.
"Agent Scully, you got a fax.  I think it's from the mental hospital."
"Oh, thank you, Lucy," Scully said with a smile as she collected the pages and 
followed Mulder and Truman out to the squad car.  She settled in the back seat 
and started to read while the two men in the front seat talked.
"I understand the victim was divorced, Sheriff -- "
"Harry, please, call me Harry.  Yeah, Nadine and Ed called it quits, well, I 
guess it's been about 6 years now.  Nadine got the house and all.  Ed, poor Ed, 
he just wanted out of that loony bin."  Harry looked up startled, "sorry, but 
Nadine had her faults.  Sure didn't deserve this, though."
"No, of course not," Scully agreed sympathetically.  "But do you think her 
ex-husband might have been capable of -- "
"No, not in a million years.  Ed is the salt of the earth.  He and Norma run the 
diner.  It's a bit of a puzzle, how Ed and Norma took so long to get together.  
Some people just make bad choices," he said wistfully.  "But in the end, it all 
works out.  Don't you think?"
Mulder smiled and looked over his shoulder at Scully in the back seat of the 
squad car.  "Yes.  Yes, I have to agree with that statement.  But could you fill 
us in a little more?  About Ed and Norma and Nadine?"
Harry sighed, but nodded.  "Ed and Norma were high school sweethearts.  But 
Norma, well, she had a wild streak back then.  Hooked up with Hank Jennings, a 
total loser.  Dumped poor Ed right before the Spring prom.  Ran off to Seattle 
and married Hank.  On the rebound, Ed took up with Nadine.  Back in those days, 
Nadine was a looker.  But after they got married, Ed found out the truth."
"Nadine was unfaithful?" Mulder supplied.
"Oh, heck no.  Nadine was an abuser!  She used to pop off and smack Ed around 
from time to time.  I could never get him to press charges.  He got in a few -- 
shot her eye out on a hunting trip."  Harry didn't see the look of abject horror 
that appeared on Scully's face as she and Mulder exchanged glances.  
"Maybe this was just Ed's way of tying up a loose end?" Scully suggested, 
looking up from the fax pages.
"No," Truman countered.  "See, as much as they fought, Ed really did have a soft 
spot for Nadine.  But after a while, well, her crazy antics just got the better 
of him.  After she got hit in the head and thought she was back in high school 
and he and Norma had a shot at a life together -- but then Nadine got in a car 
accident and came back to herself, well, it was the straw that broke the camel's 
back for Ed, so to speak."
Scully's left eyebrow had disappeared completely into her hairline and Mulder 
had a perplexed look on his face.  
"No, I would say Ed definitely didn't do this," the Sheriff continued.  
"Besides, he and Norma were over at Shelley and Bobby's babysitting all night 
the other night.  His whereabouts are confirmed."
"If his alibi is Norma, couldn't she be covering for him?" Mulder asked 
hesitantly.
"Oh, Norma isn't his alibi.  Andy and Lucy live right next door to Shelley and 
Bobby and Lucy's a light sleeper.  If Ed pulled out of the gravel drive at any 
point during the night, Lucy would have heard him."  
"Bobby?  Would that be Bobby Briggs?  His name comes up a couple of times on 
Cooper's audio journal entries," Mulder interjected.  "Where was he the night 
Ms. Hurley was killed?"
Truman chuckled and shook his head.  "Delivery room B, if I'm not mistaken.  The 
reason Ed and Norma were babysitting over there was Shelley's water broke at the 
diner and Bobby and her had to hightail it to the hospital.  Little Elizabeth, 
that's their youngest before this one, was almost born in the back of Bobby's 
Suburban.  They weren't taking any chances this time.  But Edward Andrew Briggs 
took his own sweet time coming out.  He was born just after dawn -- not more'n 
an hour before we found Nadine's body in the woods."
The squad car turned into a parking space in front of a typical small down 
diner.  "You'll find most of the people you'll want to talk to here," Truman 
assured them as he got out of the car.
Mulder held the door for his partner and then leaned in close as they walked to 
the diner.  "Scully, I think my inner Jung is wrestling with my inner Skinner on 
this one -- "
"AD Skinner?"
"No, B. F.  From a strictly clinical perspective, this town is a loony bin.  No 
wonder Agent Cooper went nuts."
"Mulder, it's just a small town, like so many others across the country.  Sure, 
it seems sort of . . . well, I guess you could say crazy, to us.  But if we were 
to give someone a five-minute summary of our lives -- we'd both be wearing 
straightjackets less than a minute later.  The question is:  did any of these 
people kill Nadine Hurley and try to make it look like Agent Cooper?  For all we 
know, Agent Cooper is dead."
He stared down at her, his brow wrinkled in confusion.  "OK, Scully, what did 
you find out that you haven't told me?"
"Mulder, Agent Cooper was indeed hospitalized but what Skinner hasn't mentioned 
is that it was for early onset Alzheimer's.  His health has deteriorated at an 
alarming rate.  The reality is he couldn't survive outside the hospital.  His 
bone density is so low that even a minor fall would have resulted in serious 
injury.  According to the fax I got from the hospital this morning, his doctor's 
prognosis is not good."
"Then why didn't Skinner tell us that yesterday?"
"I don't know what to tell you, Mulder.  I would have assumed someone would have 
checked with the hospital."
"Or someone at the Bureau wants to lay the blame on Cooper," Mulder mused.  "But 
why?"
They realized they'd been standing outside the diner and Truman was standing by 
the door waiting for them.  With Mulder's hand to Scully's back, they entered 
the building.  
The interior was knotty pine and Formica.  Booths lined the left wall with a 
counter that curved around to enclose the kitchen.  A woman with long blond 
braids was filling coffee cups for the customers already seated in several of 
the booths.  Another woman, mid-forties but still very pretty, was taking an 
order at the counter.  She finished jotting down the request, handed it back 
through to the kitchen and then greeted Truman with a smile.
"Sheriff, how's Josie feeling?" she asked, filling three coffee mugs and placing 
them in front of the agents and Truman.  
"She's fine, fine.  Catherine's a handful sometimes, but, well, you know how 
that goes."  He sipped his coffee.  "Norma, these are Agents Mulder and Scully.  
They're here to investigate Nadine's murder."
Norma's sunny expression clouded over immediately.  "Oh.  I better get Ed."
"If you can spare him," Truman nodded.  He picked up his coffee cup and pointed 
to one of the booths along the front of the restaurant.  "We can talk over 
there," he told Mulder and Scully.
In a moment a tall man with a full head of luscious brown hair, just flecked 
with gray came out from behind the counter.  "Harry," he said, taking a seat as 
Truman scooted over.  
"Ed," Truman replied.  "This is Agent Mulder and Agent Scully with the FBI.  
They came all the way out from DC to look into Nadine's murder."
Ed nodded and shook hands across the table.  "Thank you.  Thank you for coming.  
I just . . . my poor Nadine," he choked out and grabbed out a handkerchief from 
his back pocket.  "To end up like that -- "
Mulder glanced over to Scully and she nodded.  As upset as the man was, the 
interview needed her touch.  "Mr. Hurley, had you seen your ex-wife at any time 
the day of her murder?" 
"Uh, no.  Not that day.  She came by the diner the day before.  She got some new 
drapes for her place and asked if I'd come by and help her hang 'em.  She loved 
her drapes . . . " he trailed off.  "I never did get over there," he sobbed 
anew.
"Mr. Hurley, was there anyone in town who might have wanted to hurt Nadine -- 
besides Agent Cooper?" Scully continued.
Ed looked up and frowned.  "That's the thing.  Nadine didn't win any popularity 
contests, that's for sure, but I can't think of anyone who would want to kill 
her.  She was the sweetest thing alive -- when she put her mind to it."
Truman coughed a little into his coffee mug, but covered quickly.  "When she was 
of a mind, that's true, Ed."
"No one ever threatened her, was angry at her . . . " Scully continued.
"Oh, well, Hank got sort a mad at her when she testified against him in court.  
See, that's what I mean.  Here was Hank, the only thing standing between me and 
Norma, after I asked Nadine for a divorce, you see, and she goes and testifies 
against him because she saw him dealing drugs out of the back of his pick up.  
She knew the minute Hank was in jail I would convince Norma to divorce him and 
marry me, yet she still testified against him.  Now, would a mean or spiteful 
person do something like that?  No, not in a million years!"
Mulder and Scully exchanged glances and Scully bit her upper lip.  Mulder 
cleared his throat and pulled out one of his business cards from his coat 
pocket.  "Thank you, Mr. Hurley.  I think that's all the questions we have for 
now.  Here is my cell phone number and we're staying at the Great Northern if 
you think of anything else.  We're very sorry for your loss."
"Sheriff Truman, has anyone checked on Hank Jennings?" Mulder asked pointedly.  
"Hank served his time down in Tacoma, got out about two years ago.  No ones seen 
or heard from him since," Harry admitted.
"Is it possible that Hank Jennings came to town, killed Nadine Hurley and made 
it look like the Palmer and Banks murders just to throw off the trail?" Scully 
asked.
At that moment, an elderly woman carrying a cut log in her arms like a baby 
stepped up to their table.  
"One that was two is now one.  The one you seek is not the one you will find.  
That one is gone.  Find the one; help him go to the white place.  The log has 
spoken."  She nodded once and left the diner.
Norma came out not a minute later carrying a tray laden with slices of pie.  
"Just out of the oven.  Cherry.  I'll grab the coffee pot and get you all some 
refills." She was gone before Scully could utter her objection.
"Sheriff Truman, what was that all about?"  Mulder was scowling, but he managed 
to pick up his fork and take a bite of pie.  The look of near rapture took some 
of the sting out of his growl.
"Cherry pie.  Norma makes the best pie -- "
"The woman with the tree baby," Mulder interrupted, around a mouthful of pie.  
"Scully, if you don't want your pie, I'll be happy to take it off your hands," 
he added.
Scully had managed to taste a bite of the pie and immediately pulled the plate 
toward her, protecting it with her fork.  "Try it and die, Mulder," she hissed.  
"Sheriff, was that woman . . . um, shouldn't someone look after her?  She left 
alone."
Truman shrugged.  "We call her the log lady.  She's been like that for -- well, 
I can't even remember when she wasn't around.  She used to appear a lot more 
back when Coop, er, Agent Cooper was investigating the Palmer killing.  He 
generally tried to heed her advice."  He smiled and dug into his own slice of 
pie.
"That was advice?" Mulder quipped.  Norma had returned with the coffee pot and 
refilled their cups.  He downed half of his and finished off the pie.  "Sheriff, 
I think we need to go out and see the crime scene."
"Sure."  He gestured toward the counter and Norma hurried with the checks.  
Mulder took Scully's bill and paid, then headed after the Sheriff.
They traveled several miles through the mountain passes before coming to a dirt 
track between the trees.  As they got out of the car, the wind died down and a 
thick cloud cover lowered over the canopy.  
"I think we're gonna get a storm soon," Truman said as he lead them toward the 
forest.
The pine trees were tall and the canopy thick so that the trail wasn't hard to 
follow.  Mulder guessed they'd only gone about half a mile from the trailhead 
when they came to a stand of a dozen or more sycamore trees arranged in a 
circle.  There was a fire pit of white stones in the middle.  Off to the side 
was a chalk outline of a body.  The pine needles and sycamore leaves were 
stained a rusty brown.
"That's where we found her," Truman said solemnly.  He took off his hat and held 
it respectfully at his side.
Mulder crouched down to look at the ground leading up to the stone circle.  "I 
know you got casts of the footprints, Sheriff, but I see more than one set of 
prints here."
Truman hurried over and looked more closely.  "Those weren't here before," he 
said, shaking his head.
"Who else would come out here?  Ed?" Scully asked.
"No, Ed wouldn't come out.  Norma wouldn't let him even if he tried.  No, 
besides, those aren't big enough to be Ed's shoes.  He's a big fella," the 
Sheriff countered.
"Well, if it had been Morrow and Klein or any of the others, there would be more 
prints.  You didn't make those when you found the body?" Mulder asked Truman.
"No sir.  We didn't go around that side of the fire pit.  Besides, those are too 
recent.  I'd say they were made the last couple of hours, maybe even sooner."

As they spoke, a thick fog settled in around the trees.  Before long, it was 
impossible to see more than a few feet.  "Sheriff, I think we need to head back. 
 We can't see anything in this."  Thunder rumbled in the distance, reverberating 
off the mountaintops so that it was hard to tell where it had originated.
"Yeah, I think you're right, Agent Mulder," Truman agreed.  "Let's head back.  
The trail head is over here."
"Wait," Mulder ordered, searching around.  "Scully?  Scully where are you?"
"She was right here a minute ago," Truman said needlessly.
"I know," Mulder growled.  "Scully!  Answer me!"  Only the sound of the 
approaching storm returned to him.  He hastily dug in his trench coat and came 
up with his miniature mag-light.  It cut a small slice out of the fog, but the 
beam bounced back at them.  "Damn it!  I can't see a thing!  SCULLY!!"
"I have a stronger flashlight back in the squad car.  I'll go get it," Truman 
offered.  Mulder nodded gratefully and the Sheriff hurried off into the trees 
and fog.
"SCULLY!!!" Mulder shouted again.  Again, thunder was the only reply.  But as he 
tried to calm his harsh and frantic breathing, he heard something else.  It came 
on a the softest of breezes, barely disturbing the thick blanket of mist.
" . . . mulderrrrrrrrr."
Nearly hysterical now, Mulder twisted one way and then another, trying to make 
out which way the voice had come.  
"Scully!" he called again, almost hoarse from the yelling.  "Scully, say again!  
Where are you?"
" . . . twin trees . . . "
The wind had picked up, swirling the fog around him.  He shook his head, trying 
to understand what she was saying.  Twin trees?  They were in a forest, for gods 
sake!  But then the wind cleared a path through the fog and he noticed that two 
of the sycamore trees were mirror images of each other, down to the lowest 
protruding limbs.  He ran off between them and suddenly encountered . . . 
fabric?
Velvet.  It appeared to be red velvet.  Hung in drapes, almost like a stage 
curtain of some sort.  Mulder didn't give himself any time to ponder the 
ridiculousness of a stage curtain appearing suddenly in the middle of a 
Washington State forest. He dove in between the curtains.
Truman was running back from the squad car when he all but smacked into Scully, 
running in his direction.  She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.  
"Where is Mulder?" she demanded.
"He was right there, by the fire pit," Harry shouted over the wind that had 
suddenly kicked up.  "You go back to the squad car, radio Lucy to get Hawk and 
Andy and the others.  We'll find him, Agent Scully, I promise!"
Back behind the curtain, Mulder discovered a hallway.  The floor was a zigzag 
pattern of black and white tiles that would have made him dizzy if he'd stopped 
to look at it for long.  Instead, he called out again.  "Scully!  Are you in 
here?"
"Mulder!  I'm here!" came the reply and he almost wept with relief.  The voice 
came from the far end of the hall, near a bust of Roman styling.  He ran to the 
bust and called again.  "Scully, which way?"
"I'm here, Mulder.  In HERE!"  The voice was coming from the left.  He found a 
part in the draperies and stormed into a room.
It was empty, save for two arm chairs and a tall floor lamp.  He turned around 
slowly, searching for his partner.  "Scully?  Come out!"
"Thank god, you've come," came a voice from behind him but it wasn't Scully.  He 
twirled around, drawing his weapon and aiming it at the person standing in the 
corner of the room.
"You don't need that.  It won't work here even if you tired to fire," said a man 
near Mulder's age, dark haired, not overly tall.  Good looking.  He wore a dark 
suit and a narrow tie.
"Who are you?" Mulder demanded.  "Where is my partner?"
The man shook his head.  "I haven't seen any else here.  At least not anyone 
else alive.  As for who I am -- I'm Dale Cooper."
Mulder shook his head in disbelief.  This man looked nothing like the picture 
faxed to them from the mental hospital.  This man was strong, healthy.  And in 
the fax, Dale Cooper's hair was complete white, unlike the man before him.
"No.  You're not Dale Cooper.  Who the hell are you and what have you done with 
Agent Scully?" Mulder growled, raising the gun so that it was aimed directly at 
the other man's head.
The man held his hands up.  "You don't understand.  I've been here -- stranded 
here, for years while he . . ."  His eyes went wide as he looked at something 
over Mulder left shoulder.  "Look out!"
Mulder turned and saw a short man with wild long gray hair rushing toward him.  
The shorter man tackled Mulder, taking him down hard on the tiled floor.  Mulder 
struggled to bring his gun up and finally had it between them.  He fired once, 
twice, but only clicks resounded amid the grunts and gasps as the two men 
fought.  The short man favored Mulder with a feral grin before lunging forward 
and biting the agent's neck.
Mulder yelped and brought the gun up, using it to bludgeon the other man on the 
head.  The crazed man feinted back and lunged again, this time sinking his teeth 
into Mulder hand that held the gun.  Mulder tightened his grip on the gun and 
brought his other hand up to punch the man in ear as hard as he could.
The man rolled off and crouched, rubbing his ear, but still grinning like a 
madman.  He opened his mouth, but the noise that came out was no language Mulder 
had ever heard.  Mulder looked around for an escape, but before he could get to 
his feet, the maniac attacked again, pouncing on Mulder, his feet pile-driving 
into the prone man's stomach.  All air rushed out of Mulder's lungs and he 
gasped for breath through the pain.  Hands encircled his throat, crushing his 
larynx, cutting off all air --
There was a sickening crack, and suddenly, the gray-haired man's eyes went wide 
and then rolled back into his head.  As he fell to the side, he loosened his 
grip on Mulder's throat.  Mulder tried to suck in air, but nothing was 
happening.  He clutched at his neck, gasping and abruptly air flowed into his 
lungs.  He sagged back on the floor, glancing over at the man who had tried to 
kill him and then up to the man who had saved his life.
Dale Cooper, if that was who he was, stood over the still body of the 
gray-haired man, holding the floor lamp as a staff.  He was breathing heavily 
and sweat was running down his face.  Slowly, he lowered the lamp to the floor 
and stretched out his hand to Mulder.  "C'mon, we have to get out of here."
"Scully.  I won't leave until I find her," Mulder croaked out.  He was bleeding 
from the bite on his neck and his hand and he was feeling woozier by the moment. 
 Still he was determined to find his partner.
"I told you, she's not here.  It was a trick.  Bob tricked you into coming here. 
 I fell for it once, too, many years ago.  Now we have to leave before he comes 
around."
Mulder swallowed thickly.  He was having a hard time making his eyes focus.  
"How do we get out?"
"Here, lean on me."  Cooper grasped Mulder under the arm and around his waist, 
taking most of his weight and moving forward.  Mulder's head lolled to the right 
and he saw the man Cooper had called Bob twitching on the floor.  In an instant, 
the body erupted into flame.
"Fire!" Mulder cried out in a panic as the curtains flared and caught.  "Fire!"
"Walk with me," Cooper soothed as the blackness engulfed Mulder.  "Walk with 
me."
Great Northern Hotel
afternoon
His mouth was as dry as dust.  His throat felt like it had been held in a vice 
and crushed over a number of hours.  His hand hurt, his neck hurt.  He wanted 
nothing more than to sink back into oblivion and never open his eyes again.  But 
he couldn't, because he smelled her perfume.
"Scul . . . leee," he rasped out, barely a whisper.  Not since his run in with 
the dreaded tobacco beetles had it hurt as much to attempt speech.  But he had 
to know.
"Easy, Mulder," she cooed.  He opened his eyes, relief overriding his aches and 
pains.  "Here, just a few sips.  We probably should have taken you to the 
hospital, but your injuries, although painful, are really superficial."  She 
held the glass to his lips and helped him take a few sips before putting it back 
on the nightstand.
"Cooper," he croaked out.
"Agent Dale Cooper is currently giving his statement to Agents Morrow and Klein. 
 Mulder, it's amazing.  It's like -- it's like it's not even the same man!  His 
doctor from the mental hospital came up last night to examine him and he's 
dumbfounded.  Not only that, Cooper has no recollection of ever being committed. 
 He claims he's been someplace called the Black Lodge.  Deputy Hill seemed to 
know all about it.  He and Sheriff Truman explained some of it to me last night, 
while the doctor was bandaging your wounds.  It's sounds like something right up 
your alley.  I'm sure they'd be more than happy to tell you all about it later, 
if you want."
"Nadine's murderer?"  He was rather proud of himself for managing so many 
syllables at one time.
"The casting of the shoe print did not match Agent Cooper's -- from the shoes at 
the hospital nor the wingtips he was wearing when the Sheriff and I found him 
carrying you out of the forest.  Nadine's body did produce one latent -- a 
thumbprint.  It didn't match Cooper, either.  Without some sort of evidence 
linking him to the crime, it will be hard to charge him with it."
"He was trapped there, Scully," Mulder whispered.  "It was a place, really.  A 
strange, horrible place."
"Well, when you two first showed up, there was some thought that he might have 
hurt you.  But the finger spread of the bruising on your throat is considerably 
smaller than his.  That falls in line with the story he had of this Bob 
character -- "
"Bob is evil, Scully.  Pure evil," Mulder said harshly.  "I think Bob killed 
Nadine."
"They're matching the print we found on Nadine with the ones on your neck, 
Mulder.  If they are from the same man -- Bob, as you say -- Agent Cooper will 
go free for sure."
"Wake me when the results come back," Mulder sighed and drifted off to sleep.
The late afternoon sun was warm on his face when he next awoke.  Scully was 
sitting by the window, reading from a file folder.  He groaned and tried to sit 
up.  She was by his side in an instant, helping him to his feet.
"Bathroom," he grunted and she helped him steady himself enough that he could 
make it into the room unassisted.  When he came back to the bedroom, he was 
looking much happier.  "Results come back?"
"Yes.  And you were right, Mulder.  The fingerprints on your neck match exactly 
the thumbprint found on Nadine Hurley's body.  She was killed by Bob, whomever 
Bob is.  Morrow and Klein are working with Haglund to search the woods for him."
"They won't find him, Scully."
"Well, there is some thought that he might make it into Canada by foot -- "
"No.  He doesn't exist on this plane.  I hope he doesn't exist at all anymore.  
He was in that fire, Scully.  The whole place went up like so much kindling."
"You did suffer from minor smoke inhalation and you did smell like you'd been in 
a blast furnace.  The strange thing was there hasn't been any forest fires 
reported within a hundred miles of here over the last week.  I still don't 
understand it."
"Don't try.  It'll only make your head hurt," he assured her.  Stiffly he 
lowered himself back into bed and she covered him up tenderly.  There was a 
knock on the door just as she was leaning over to give him a kiss.
"Shhh, if we're quiet maybe they'll leave," he whispered.  She ruffled his hair 
and went over to open the door.  Dale Cooper was standing there with Sheriff 
Truman and Hawk.
"Agent Mulder, good to see you awake," Truman said affably as they three entered 
the room on Scully's invitation.
"Yes, finally," Mulder replied.  "I think I owe you a debt of gratitude, Agent 
Cooper."
Cooper looked at Mulder for several minutes before he shook his head.  "No, not 
at all, Agent Mulder.  You saved me.  I had about given up hope of ever finding 
a way out of there."  Cooper continued to stare at Mulder.  "Agent Mulder, you 
wouldn't happen to have a relative -- a cousin maybe, in the DEA?"
Scully raised an eyebrow and Mulder shook his head in the negative.  "No.  Not 
that I'm aware," he assured Cooper.
"Oh, well, never mind."
"So, what are your plans, Agent Cooper?" Scully asked, slightly confused by the 
sudden tension in the room.
"Well, for one thing, it's not Agent Cooper anymore.  Beyond the fact that the 
Bureau officially put me on disability, I've decided to not seek reemployment.  
I'm going to settle down here, make a life for myself."
Truman patted his shoulder.  "I still have your deputy's badge in my desk 
drawer, Coop," he said with a wink.
"I don't think I want to continue in law enforcement, Harry.  I think -- well, I 
think I might pursue a life long dream of mine."
"And what would that be?" asked Hawk cautiously.
"I think I want to become a writer, Hawk.  Fiction, actually."
Truman and Hawk exchanged glances and Mulder and Scully continued to give each 
other confused shrugs.
"Well, it's definitely worth sticking around here -- for the cherry pie, if 
nothing else," Mulder spoke up to fill in the silence.
"Did you have the pie, Agent Mulder?" Cooper lit up with excitement.  "I 
couldn't believe it the first time I bit into a slice.  Nothing I've ever tasted 
could compare!  And the coffee!  Oh, my!"
"Speaking of pie and coffee, we should probably let Agent Mulder get some rest, 
Coop.  C'mon, let's head over to the diner.  My treat," Truman offered.
"Harry, that would be splendid!"  Cooper stepped over to the bed and extended 
his hand.  "Agent Mulder, I can't thank you enough.  If you two are ever in the 
area, please stop in."
"Thanks, uh, Cooper, but I think we're going to try to stay on the East Coast, 
at least for a while," Mulder replied evenly, but gave the man a firm handshake. 
 "Sheriff, Deputy, thanks for all your help with the investigation."
"You folks take care," Truman said as he shook first Mulder's and then Scully's 
hand.  The three men left and Scully sat down on the edge of the bed.
"OK, Mulder.  This is all well and good.  But how do we write this up in a field 
report?" she asked.
"You know, Scully, my throat is killing me.  I think I might have to just take a 
rain check on this report.  I mean, I'm in so much pain, I don't know how much I 
can remember."
"Be careful, Mulder.  Next time I take you out to the forest, I might just leave 
you there."
the end.