Be afraid. Be very afraid. This is scaring ME, and I *wrote* it. It's weird.

Romance warning--nothing earthshaking, but if you dislike the thought of our heroes being near each other back out now. Oh, yeah, and if you're looking for an actual plot, try again later. Also a little Skinner insight.

In my Erin chronology this postdates Shall We Dance and predates Gossip Rides Again (Which will be out in about two-three weeks).

I was going to post this on Oct 31, originally, but I couldn't resist getting in a little early. And d'you know, I don't think I'd have time tomorrow -- gotta go TP a few houses, as the FBI didn't invite *me* to the halloween dance...

October 31, 1995

"Well?" Erin whirled in front of the mirror. "What do you think, Da?"

"Bee-yewtiful." Michael applauded. "Fox and Dana would love it."

Erin checked the pin holding the scarf to her shoulder and tossed the plaid skirt one last time. "An what d'ye think o this, m'pa?"

"I think you need to work on the accent." Mike smirked and handed the newly-licensed girl a keyring. "Just remember that the coach turns into a pumpkin at eleven..."

"I thought it was twelve."

"Next year you can stay 'till twelve."

In all your fantasies
you always knew
that man and mystery --
were both in you...

"Nice costume, Mulder. You going as yourself this year?" Scully snickered. Mulder examined the sleeves of the black suit he was wearing for non-existent specks of dust. "I'm not done yet, thank you, Dr. Scully." he pulled a cape out of the dufflebag in the corner of the office. "There." tying it around his neck, he grinned. "And the final touch..." a half-face, plain white mask emerged. "Just call me Phantom."

"Hm. Man lives in basement, everyone thinks he's crazy...I see certain correlations." Scully adjusted her own costume, an old-style suit with a gold badge on the lapel--just like the first agents wore--and grinned. "Think I could pass for J. Edgar?"

"Not a chance." he pulled her fedora down over her eyes.

"Thanks." she pushed it back up. "I was worried about that."

He offered her his arm. "Time to go. You got your mask?"

She held up a brown-sequined eye-mask. "Everyone who's anyone has one."

The large Bureau cafeteria had been gutted for the occasion, all the booths and tables replaced by a dance floor and a DJ at one end. It was grim, it was badly lighted, and it was Haloween. All the agents were there, most of them wearing masks, per tradition. A few of the braver VC agents had conspired and came wearing masks crafted to look like AD Skinner, Director Blevins, and other prominent bureau figures.

Erin had no business being at an official FBI function, but then, knowing certain agents had its perks. Agent Kim--now promoted to section head--grinned when she lifted her mask briefly and waved her on. She smiled greatfully. Tall enough to blend in and innoculous enough not to draw attention, she would hardly get caught. She hoped.

She glanced around for Fox and Dana, but in the maze of masks and costumes they weren't obvious immediately. She knew Fox was going as Phantom of the Opera, but she didn't see him.

The party hadn't really started yet, so it wouldn't be unusual for them not to be there yet. She amused herself by trying to pick out who was who in the crowd. The man in the trench coat and black mask would be assistant director Skinner. She thought she caught sight of one of the secretaries she knew in a vamprella dress, but she couldn't be sure.

Just after the first song started, she noticed a tall man walk in with a woman in a brown suit on his arm. She grinned.

"Hellooo, Fox. Guess who's crashing the party tonight..."

Here in this room he calls me softly
Somewhere inside, hiding,
Somehow I know, he's always with me,
he, the unseen genius.

Mulder had an aversion to parties, as a general rule, knowing full well the ribbing he got every time he came to one. But this time, well, Bureau tradition dictated everyone come masked, and if nobody knew who he was...

Besides, he had the most beautiful female agent in the bureau on his arm, at least in his estimation. Though the highlander girl in the corner, talking with the cowboy, wasn't any slouch. He grinned to himself.

One night out of the year, at least, he would fit in.

Dana felt Mulder relax as they entered the room. No Spooky jokes tonight! She adjusted the mask and smiled up at him. He smiled back.

"Hey, J. Edgar--wanna dance?"

The music was appropriately creepy--the DJ must have a special halloween collection, everything from Ghostbusters to Bad Moon Rising. And switching partners quickly, she didn't always catch what Mulder was doing, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

It was an intricate plot, and Erin wasn't at all sure it would work. After all, lying hadn't, conniving hadn't, and she'd tried just about everything else short of witchcraft. But watching Fox watch Dana, and vice versa, all night, was too much to bear. In a burst of improvised inspiration, she walked casually up to Skinner and asked him to dance.

Skinner looked at the obviously young agent. She sounded like she was barely out of the academy. He'd been standing on the fringes allnight, though, and he wanted at least one good dance before he left.

He took her arm.

"You know," she said as they danced, a fast time-step type thing to a rock chorus, "I've noticed--see the lady posing as an FBI agent? Dancing with the werewolf over there? I hear she's been wanting to dance with you all night. And I heard that Phantom, by the door, is gonna ask her next. Want me to waltz you over before he gets there?"

He considered the lady again. "Playing matchmaker, Agent?"

"All part of the service, sir." Erin almost broke under the comedic strain, but kept good face. "Come on."

Dana wasn't quite sure how it happened. One minute she was watching the dancers on the floor, and the next she'd been pulled into some sort of rock-n-roll waltz with the trenchcoat man, who everyone knew had to be AD Skinner.

He really was a good dancer, she thought. Pity he didn't do it more often.

She caught a glimpse of Mulder over Skinner's shoulder and saw him run a hand over his forehead, mouthing *Skinner.* She nodded. He shook his head and laughed silently.

"I wanted to get a dance with you first." Skinner--wonder of wonders--smiled. "Rumor has it the suited man at the wall wants a dance with you."

Insolent boy, this slave of passion
Basking in your glory!
Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor!
Sharing in my triumph!

Mulder kept watching, from a strategic location by the door, as Skinner took Scully up and waltzed her around. What he wouldn't give... The woman in the skirt, with the tartan across her chest, the one who had been dancing with Skinner, came up. "Ay, lad, would ye care to dance?"

The voice sounded distinctly familiar, but above the racket of music he couldn't place it. "What?"

"I said, d'you want to dance?!"

He offered her his hand in acceptance and she pulled him out onto the floor. "All the ladies want to dance with you." she was saying. "And you're all alone over there by the door. Who's your date that she left you all alone?"

"She's switching partners," he answered.

"Odd." definetely a familiar voice. He didn't know that many women in the bureau, and she sounded too young to have been there for long. "A lot of the women were trying to get up the nerve to ask you."

"Really." he asked, amused. "I don't dance often."

"But you do it so well! A few of us were commenting on it. Do you know the name of the agent with the old-fashioned suit?"

"No, I don't," he lied.

"She was watching you dance earlier, and talked about it."

"Thank you." Mulder looked at the diminuative agent. "Nice to know I still know how."

"Would I sound corny to say you dance divinely?"

"Extrememly. I think we'd better switch off at the next song, though, before most of the male agents see *me* dancing with *you* and try to break it up."

"We could now...just two step over and we're there."

Mulder glanced jealously at Skinner. "I don't think it would be too wise to cut in on the AD."

"Nonsense. He's watching the cat-woman in the corner." Erin executed the most complicated step she'd probably ever done in jazz class or anywhere else, switching Scully right into Mulder's arms and at the same time steering Skinner subtly off the floor. Scully, never missing a beat, danced on. Erin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fancy meeting you here, Dana." Mulder murmured. <She was watching you dance earlier...>

"Fancy that, *Fox*," she replied. <The suited man at the wall wants a dance with you>

He winced in appreciation. "Noted."

Just as they were getting warmed up, the music ended. The DJ leaned into the mic. "Hey folks, last song of the night--yes, that's right, it's almost the witching hour, and we have a request--also a fittingly gloomy song for you..."

The music started up again slowly and Dana paused. "Shall we dance...Spooky?"

He smiled in appreciation of her joke. "I hate that movie. And call me Spooky once more, you'll never dance again. Last dance, Scully."

He moved aside as all the agents tried to get in.

Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation;
Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination...
Silently the senses abandon their defenses...

Dana noticed the girl who'd cut in on her and Skinner standing near the DJ's booth. She looked happy, but still...she looked hopeful, and a touch lonely. Mulder put his hand on her hip, and she redirected her attention to dancing.

Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness that you know you cannot fight,
the darkness of the music of the night

Mulder held her close--the one woman who meant more to him than anything. <She was watching you dance...watching you dance...watching you...>

<Libido in control, please. Not tonight, not right now.>

The rest of the dance seemed to last a lot longer than it should have.

floating, falling, sweet intoxication,
touch me, trust me, savor each sensation;
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in
to the power of the music that I write
the power of the music of the night.

You alone can make my song take flight
help me make the music of the the night.

Erin watched, happily, from the corner. Skinner, envious, watched from another one. She never noticed him glance her way.

Burnt out ends of smoky days,
The stale cold smell of morning,
The streetlamp dies, another night is over,
Another day is dawning!

Touch me, it's so easy to leave me,
all alone with the memories of my day in the sun--
If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is.
Look, a new day has begun...

Satisfied with her work, and before anyone could unmask her--the unmasking at the end of the party, she knew about all that--Erin fled, unnoticed by anyone except a rather regretful Assistant Director. Noticing what had happened, that the woman had managed to pair his two rebellious agents for the night, he felt a bit better. His hat went off to the wise person who could do that.

It was eleven-thirty exactly when the unmasking occured. The bureau workers all laughed at each other as they saw who they'd been dancing with, or competing with. Skinner, mask in hand, glanced around. Mulder and Scully were near the DJ's booth, both grinning fit to kill. He sighed. It *had* been Scully he'd danced with.

He saw quite a few of the younger agents looking around--and since only one woman had left before everyone took their masks off, it was fairly clear who they were missing. The agent in the beautiful plaid skirt--the one who'd danced with not only Spooky but also AD Skinner and many of the young hotshots just out of Quantico.

The question went around--who was she?

Skinner thought. She was a good dancer, polite, and seemed to be nice enough. A shame no-one knew who she was.

He thought for a moment; about his life; no wife, no children, few friends. Power, a little bit, and prestige, maybe. But dancing with the woman tonight brought it back--what he would give to have a family, maybe, and a little less prestige. Prestige wasn't waiting for you at home each night. You couldn't play baseball with it, or teach it, or watch it grow up...you couldn't sleep next to it, and you certainly couldn't love it...

<All part of the service, sir.> her words echoed. Maybe someone understood his predicament.

"Director." Mulder was nodding at him. "Nice costume."

"Not a word, Mulder, not a word. Agent Scully." Skinner acknowledged the small woman. "I had a suspicion it might be you."

"I'm flattered, sir."

"Tell me, do either of you know who the agent in the tartan dress was?" he asked hopefully.

"Sorry, sir, we were going to ask you." Mulder shook his head.

"She left?"

"Right before the party ended."

"Sounds like Cinderella didn't want to miss her coach." Scully smiled. He smiled back, hollowly. "I guess it does."

"And sir, that makes you Prince Charming." She added. He flushed.

"Thin ice, Scully."

"Yes sir."

"She seemed familiar enough." Mulder scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I can almost place her..."

"Well, I'm sure we'll find out sooner or later."

"That we will, sir." Scully gave him an unreadable look. "Mulder, can I get a ride home?"

"If you'll excuse us, Sir..." Mulder offered Scully his arm again.

"We'll see you at work on Monday."

"Monday," Skinner repeated.

He would go home; there wouldn't be anyone waiting for him, or coming home with him from the party; he would go home to a cold apartment,

a few plants, and some furniture. No children, no wife, no pets.

Power...and truth. They had robbed him of things he'd never known he'd wanted. Or had known, but ignored. Up until now, until he saw Mulder and Scully dancing together.

He shut his eyes and hoped with all his heart that the two of them wouldn't make the same mistakes; wouldn't sacrifice everything for the truth. True, they had things going for them--they had contacts, they had their work, they had people in the shadows defending them...

They had each other.

Walter Skinner, in his search for truth, had had no one.That was the tragedy. A search alone is a very empty search, indeed.

Mulder and Scully, sans masks, left together.

Erin, already way past her curfew, watched with satisfaction from Mike's car, a few yards back, as Mulder dropped Scully off. For the two of them not only to dance but to leave together could be considered a minor success.

She hummed to herself as she drove, anticipating the lecture she'd get for getting home over an hour late. It was worth it.

Laughing, she thought, oh yes, very much worth it. Especially to see all the 'sober and dignified' FBI agents costumed and dancing. And it wasn't every day one got to dance with some of the most prestigious men in the FBI, up to and including one Assistant Director Walter Skinner.

END

Note: If Mulder and Scully won't adopt me, would Uncle Nick kindly bring me across? :)= Ra now owns every single XF episode and the first two seasons of FK on tape. She runs the Lone Gunwoman. She enjoys watching Mulder speak French.

And she used to be such a normal young girl. Monetary contributions towards the 'send Ra To Canada' fund are welcome at any and all times...