"Alliance" 3/3
Part Three of an X-Files/ Murder One Cross-Over
by Jennifer Lyon
Jenni10647@AOL.com, jennyann@ix.netcom.com

See Disclaimers part 1


"Mulder..." The exasperation in Scully's voice was familiar. It rang 
in Fox Mulder's ears, bathing his entire body in warmth. He *loved* 
that tone, not that he'd ever admit it to her. But it meant two very 
important things to him; first that she cared enough about him to 
get frustrated with him, and secondly that he was stimulating her to 
see things in new ways. She might never agree with him, in fact he 
didn't *want* her to always agree with him. Arguing with his 
brilliant, logical partner was one of the greatest delights of his life. 
Still, there were times when she frustrated him in return, and this 
was fast becoming one of those.

"Scully..." He paused, abstractedly running his hand through his 
short dark hair, as he leaned his cheek into the phone receiver. 
"Look, I wouldn't do this unless it was important. You know how 
much my work means to me."

"Yes, I do. And that's why I don't understand why you are throwing 
it all away to help a drugged-out murderer."

"Neil's not a murderer, and he's been clean and sober for months." 
The denial flew out of him angrily, sharply. He winced at the sound, 
and deliberately modulated his tone. "He's just one more victim in a 
long line of them. A troubled young man who was in the wrong 
place at the wrong time. I've watched too many innocent people fall 
to these monsters, Scully. I can't stand by and not try to help Neil."

"Mulder, there's no evidence to suggest that this case is in any way 
related to Cancerman and his cronies." She left unsaid the rest of it, 
the death of her own sister still too raw a wound to mention 
casually even now that the man who had pulled the trigger was 
dead.

"But he's the one who reacted when you tried to get information on 
Cross."

"I can't say that for sure..." Her voice trailed off. His silence was 
more vocal than any words could have been.

"It just doesn't make any sense," she protested.

"It doesn't make any sense, yet," he replied. "But it will when I get 
some more answers."

"I don't like this, Mulder. You'll be operating outside of the law, 
with no official authority. If this blows up in your face, you could 
lose the X-Files permanantly."

"They've taken them away before. If I have to work without the 
FBI, so be it. I *have* to do this, Scully. Since we lost Krycek and 
the man who killed your sister, we've been at a complete standstill. 
This is the first serious lead I've had in months. Besides, Neil needs 
all the help he can get. The trial doesn't have that much longer to 
go. I've got to move fast on this."

"I don't understand why he means so much to you. You only met 
him two days ago."

"Because he reminds me of me, I guess." The weight of that 
admission hung between them for a pointed moment, Mulder 
wearily embarrassed to have given her so much, yet still aware that 
there was no one else he'd rather trust. 

"Be careful," Scully's response came a couple of breaths later, her 
voice resigned, worried, yet ultimately accepting. He smiled into the 
phone, grateful as he always was to whatever vagary of Fate that 
had gifted him with this particular partner. 

"Always," he promised.

Hanging up the phone, he wandered back to the bed and flopped 
back across it. He tugged at his tie, drawing the thin, brightly-
patterned ribbon of silk off his neck. He tossed it haphazardly 
towards the bedside table, then groaned aloud at the sound of a 
knock on the door. Rolling over, he pushed himself off the bed and 
walked towards the door, unbuttoning his collar and top shirt 
buttons as he moved. 

Opening the door, his eyes widened in suprise. 

"Neil?"

"Hi, Mulder." Neil did his best impression of being nonchalant, but 
he couldn't - quite - keep his eyes from betraying the uncertain mix 
of emotions beneath the casual exterior. He was standing in the 
doorway, one hand buried in the pocket of his leather jacket, the 
other resting against the wall. He was wearing jeans and a white T-
shirt beneath the black jacket. Curly ebony tendrils of hair framed 
his forehead and eyes, and he looked impossibly young. He shifted 
on his feet, biting on his lower lip, and Mulder quicky reached out 
to usher him inside.

Closing the door behind them, Mulder walked into the center of the 
room, watching as Neil went to the end of the bed, stood half-
turned away from Mulder, avoiding his own reflection in the large 
mirror on the opposite wall. Finally, he turned back to Mulder, the 
hesitation more evident now.

"I, umm, you wanna get something to eat or something?"

Mulder smiled. "Maybe in a little while. Have a seat." Mulder 
gestured at the bed with a shrug of silent apology. The Bureau 
didn't tend to pay a lot for keeping agents in motels, and he wasn't 
much of a housekeeper anyway. The only alternative was an 
unpleasntly colored chair with plastic cushions, and Mulder had 
already designated it as a substitute laundry basket. Neil pushed a 
pile of papers aside, and sat down on the very edge of the unmade 
bed, clasping his hands in his lap.

Mulder was less careful, he shoved some clothes and paperwork 
aside, letting them drop to the floor without care, then sat down 
beside Neil.

"What's wrong?" he asked bluntly.

"Nothing." Neil wouldn't look at him. His fingers wove around each 
other in his lap.

Mulder waited for a moment, then decided to push it further. 
"Neil," he began, but he was interrupted.

"Hypnotize me!" Neil blurted out, turning to look intently at his 
new friend.

"What?" Mulder looked at him, surprised.

"I want you to hypnotize me," Neil repeated stubbornly.

"Neil, it's not that simple. It will take some preparation, and I'm not 
the best qualified to do it. And I don't think you should proceed on 
anything without Ted's OK."

"No. I want you to do it. I don't trust anyone else. You can do it, 
can't you?"

Mulder hesitated. "I *can*, but I'd prefer to let someone with more 
experience handle it. I know a psychologist who specializes..."

"No." Neil shook his head, his mouth tightening. "I don't want 
anyone but you." Before Mulder could counter, Neil stood up and 
started pacing back and forth in front of the bed. "I can't take much 
more of this, Mulder. I sit there in court day after day, listening to 
these people say these terrible things about me, and I'm not allowed 
to say a single word. Ted and Chris are great - they're fighting as 
hard as they can for me. God knows, I'll never be able to repay 
them for all they've done for me already. I wouldn't be sober, hell, I 
probably woudn't even be sane, without their help. But I've got to 
*do* something."

"I know it's hard not being able to speak for yourself, but that's the 
way the trial system works. Have you talked to Ted about this?"

"Not really. And it's not so much that I'm not allowed to say 
anything....well, that drives me nuts sometimes, but it's also the 
question of what I would say if I could. How do I know those 
people aren't telling the truth? Maybe I did kill Jessica and I just 
blacked it out. I don't remember strangling Melissa, but there's that 
tape. I've watched it over and over and I just...can't...remember!"

"Maybe you can't remember because it never happened." Mulder 
told him quietly.

Neil chuckled, though his expression never wavered. "Yeah, and 
elephants have spots."

"Neil..."

"No, Mulder, listen. I heard everything you and Ted talked about 
last night, but it's all so crazy! It's so hard to believe that Richard is 
involved with government conspiracies and secret experiments. Isn't 
it simpler to believe that I flipped out on the coke and booze, that I 
really am the monster the DA thinks I am?"

"Simpler isn't always the truth," Mulder replied. "Do you really 
think you're capable of raping and strangling your girlfriend?" His 
eyes were focused, glittering diamonds as he stared up into Neil's 
pained face.

Neil struggled for words, his eyes drifting from Mulder's watching 
face to the ceiling, the walls, the window. He ran his hand through 
his hair, then brought his eyes back down to meet Mulder's gaze 
straight on. "I don't know what to think any more."

Mulder got to his feet and walked over to Neil. Placing his hands 
on the other man's shoulders, he spoke with sincere understanding. 
"I know you're scared. God knows you have every reason to be. 
But don't start doubting yourself now. You've made mistakes, but 
you've owned up to them. You've worked hard to straighten 
yourself out - that's something to be proud of."

"So I stopped doing drugs. Hallelujah! Such a major 
accomplishment." Neil replied with biting sarcasm.

"Yes, it *is* such an accomplishment," Mulder said patiently. "Do 
you think I haven't thought about drinking, that I haven't felt the 
need to bury myself in drugs to dull the pain. Life hurts like hell 
most of the time. We all find our own ways of coping with it, you 
just chose the wrong one for a while."

"So what's the right one?"

Mulder shrugged, dropped his hands, and turned away towards the 
window. Light filtered in through the half-open blinds, drawing out 
soft red highlights in his dark hair. Staring at the busy street, he 
responded simply. "I don't know. You just keep going."

"I can't. Not without knowing for sure. How can I live with myself, 
if I did kill Jessica?"

"I don't think you did kill her. And regardless, you don't have a 
choice about living with yourself." Mulder threw Neil an ironic grin 
over his shoulder, and almost won one in return. But the young 
man's mind was made up, and while he might not return to the 
temper tantrums that had been his trademark behavior before 
finding his sobriety, he still had that obstinant, unrelenting 
determination that, more than anything else, had led him to 
extraordinary career sucess he had found so young. He simply 
didn't give up once his mind was made up.

"Maybe, but even that's better than not knowing for sure. You have 
to help me remember what really happened that night."

"I want to help. I will help. But the best way to solve this may be 
finding the real killer. That's what I do best, I catch killers."

"OK. But in the meantime, I want you to help me prove to myself 
that *I'm* not a killer."	

"Neil..." Mulder looked into those dark chocolate eyes, saw the 
liquid glistening in the corners, which only highlighted the 
fierceness of his friend's resolve, and almost laughed aloud. What 
had Scully once said about him? They could put him in a desert 
with a backhoe and he'd simply start digging. It appeared he wasn't 
the only one with that kind of relentless determination. "All right, 
look - Let's talk to Ted Hoffman about it. If he approves, we can 
start working on putting you under hypnosis."

It was like sunlight shimmering out from behind the clouds, white 
teeth flashing in a brilliant, boyish smile. Neil's eyes gleamed like 
honey, dimples formed in his cheeks, his entire face lit up with 
unrestrained joy. It hit Mulder in the groin with a surge of heat, and 
he barely restrained a gasp. A startled frown crossed his own 
features as he fought with the unexpected swell of emotion, locking 
it deep down inside.

"What?" Neil's smile fell into fear, tears still welling dangerously in 
the corners of his dark eyes, even as Mulder grabbed fiercely for his 
self-control. He quickly reassured Neil with a grin of his own. 
"Nothing. Let's go grab some dinner. I'm starving!" He brushed past 
Neil to reach for his suit jacket, never seeing the look of dawning 
curiosity on his companion's face. 

Neil knew the power of his own smile, his career had been built on 
his ability to deliver for the camera - but he'd never been frowned at 
in quite that way. Women tended to look hungry, Ted usually 
looked parentally stern and Chris just shook his head and smiled in 
acknowledgement. Mulder looked as though he'd been slapped. 
Neil didn't understand, and he desperately needed to. He'd never 
felt about anyone quite the way he felt about Mulder. He wanted 
his approval, but not in the child-like way he wanted Ted's. He 
wanted his friendship, but not in the same little-brother way he 
wanted Chris'. He wanted...something... that he couldn't quite put 
into words. Mulder was soon waiting by the door for him, so he 
filed it away for future consideration and followed him out into the 
hall. One thing Neil had more than enough of was time to think.
					- - - - -

Whatever his reputation, Neil was still a celebrity, and in LA that 
had certain privileges. Mulder trailed behind the suddenly assertive 
young actor as he dealt efficiently with the bow-tied, finicky maitre 
d'. The restaurant had been Neil's choice, and from the look of it, 
Mulder's monthly salary might not cover a single entre. But Neil 
had insisted, and Mulder told himself he simply didn't feel like 
arguing. But more than that, he couldn't help enjoying the sensation 
of being able to walk into a five star restaurant without a 
reservation and within minutes be seated by the obsequious host.

Neil was grinning at him when he sat down, wide-eyed, staring 
around him at the opulence of the decor. Mulder shrugged and 
returned the smile. "Quite a place."

"Yes, it is." Neil waited until an elegant woman in a black evening 
gown tread past their table, shooting them a disdainful glance, 
before sweeping away, then leaned across the table. "Actually, if the 
food wasn't quite so good, you couldn't pay me to come in here. 
The staff is almost more arrogant than the patrons."

Mulder chuckled. "I do feel a bit underdressed."

"I make it practice to always come in here in jeans. I suppose it's 
stupid, but I can't help it. I love the look on their faces." 

"Everyone needs their head messed with once in a while," Mulder 
responded. They both laughed, until a familiar face caught the 
corner of Neil's eye. He turned his head sideways to see a tall, older 
blond woman with glasses and a school-marm appearance walking 
with an unfamiliar man in their direction. Luckily, she didn't appear 
to have noticed him yet, and he ducked his head downwards with a 
soft groan. 	

Mulder looked at him in surprise, but quickly followed the tilt of 
Neil's head. It took him a moment to recognize the woman 
unknowingly bearing down on them, and when he did, he winced in 
turn.

Neil smiled wryly, then gave in to the inevitable. Leaning back in his 
chair, he met her eyes straight on when she came up close to the 
table. When her bespectacled eyes fell on his face, she stopped in 
her tracks, then straightened her back and nodded sparely at him.

"Mr. Avedon."

"Hello, Ms. Grasso." He replied with utter politeness, even giving 
her a ghost of his smile. She acknowledged it sparely, her eyes 
instantly flickering to Mulder, who was sitting casually in his chair, 
one hand curved around a water glass, the other resting loosely on 
the table. His bright eyes were shuttered in apparent boredom, yet 
he inclined his head at her. His entire manner was so relaxed that 
anyone who didn't know him well would assume he was utterly 
unaware of the fierce curiosity that blazed up in her eyes at the 
sight of him. 

"Would you like to order something to drink, sir?" The voice of the 
waiter broke the moment. Neil twisted in his seat to look at up the 
portly, white-clad man, who cleared his throat impatiently. "I'd like 
a Diet Pepsi," Neil responded automatically. He almost asked 
Mulder what he wanted, but deliberately stopped himself before 
saying Mulder's name. Grasso's curiosity was a living thing, he 
knew she was anxious to know who his unknown companion was. 
So instead of speaking, he simply glanced at Mulder, who obviously 
hadn't missed a thing. The agent met his friend's eyes with amused 
understanding, then calmly ordered a light beer. The waiter huffed a 
bit at the cheap order, then hurried away. 

Her curiosity unsatisfied, Grasso had to move on also. She lingered 
long enough to take one final  look at Mulder's face, then turned 
and followed her own dinner companion to a table several feet 
away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Mulder said with a wry 
grin. "That's the prosecutor?"

"Yeah, the dragon lady herself."

"She looks like a schoolteacher."

"I know. She always manages to make me feel like I'm being called 
to the principal's office. Even when she's talking about something 
really sordid, she still manages to sound prim and proper."

"God, I hope she never meets up with my boss!" Mulder replied, 
grimacing.

"The Assistant Director you told me about? The ex-marine?" Neil 
asked.

"Yeah, that's the one. Could you imagine..." Mulder let his voice 
trail off, his eyes wide with apparent horror. It was too much for 
Neil, he dissolved into laughter at the unspoken images. Mulder 
grinned as the mirth eased his friend's tension, then joined in with a 
few chuckles of his own. By the time the disapproving waiter had 
arrived with their drinks, they were chattering away happily, Miriam 
Grasso's dampening presence forgotten for the evening. 

But she had not forgotten them.
					- - - - -


"Absolutely not." Ted was implacable.

So was Neil. He planted himself in front of the big oak desk, hands 
on his hips, and prepared to fight. "I'm sorry Ted, but I'm going to 
do this. I have to."

"Neil, please listen to me."

"I have listened to you, Teddy, and I understand your concerns. I 
really do. But I need this - I have to know for sure whether I'm 
guilty or innocent."

"You're innocent." Ted responded with total certainty, but it was 
lost on his client.

Neil shook his head. "You don't know that; how can you if I don't?"

"Neil, look...." 

"I'm going to do this. I'd rather do it here, with Mulder and you and 
Chris. But I'll go elsewhere if I have to."

Before Ted could respond, Mulder broke in. "There's no guarantee 
that hypnosis will help, and even if it does, it may take a while. It's a 
therapeutic tool, not a cure-all. I'm willing to try, but I can't 
promise a miracle."

"Not to mention the fact that if Grasso finds out, she could put 
Mulder on the stand and force him as a law enforcement officer to 
testify to everything you've said to him." Chris argued.

"No," Neil insisted. He looked to Mulder, who shrugged his 
shoulders. 

"I'm not sure this completely clears the question, but as of yesterday 
morning I officially went on a three month sabbatical from the FBI. 
I'm something of a free agent...so to speak." He grinned.

"There, see," Neil jumped in, gesturing widely. Pacing between 
Chris and Mulder, he walked over to the corner of Ted's desk and 
rested his palms on the polished surface. "Since he's not with the 
FBI, the dragon lady can't use him against me."

"Just because he's not with the FBI at present, doesn't mean she 
can't subpoena him." Chris insisted. Neil turned back towards the 
younger, blond attorney, ready to continue the argument, but was 
interrupted by Mulder.

"Got any money on you, Neil?"

"What?" Neil spun around, staring at him in surprise. Ted was 
quicker on the draw, and his sharp eyes exchanged a flash of 
understanding with Mulder's cool hazel ones. They held each 
other's gaze for a split second, but it was enough.

"Give Mulder a dollar," Ted said softly. Chris glanced at him in 
surprise, only to receive a nod of reassurance. Neil was still 
confused by the seemingly odd request, but since everyone in the 
room was now waiting on him to do so, he fished through his pants 
pocket and drew out a crumpled bill. Examining it quickly, he held 
it out towards Mulder. "All I got on me is a five."

Mulder grinned, taking the wad of green paper from Neil's 
outstretched hand. "Guess we can chalk it up to inflation." He 
pocketed the five dollar bill, then glanced back at Ted who was 
now leaning back in his chair, apparently relaxed.

Neil followed the glance, stared at Ted, looked back at Mulder, and 
then over at Chris, who smiled calmly at him.

"OK. What's going on? You're pulling some obscure legal shit on 
me, aren't you?"

The other three men shared a quick chuckle. "Sorry, Neil," Ted told 
him. "But actually it's quite simple really. You just hired yourself a 
psychologist."

Neil glanced at Mulder, who nodded at him. Neil considered for a 
moment, then objected. "But Dr. Lester was my psychologist and 
Grasso made him testify, so why couldn't she do the same to 
Mulder?"

"I'm not Lester," Mulder replied. "I'd sit in jail until hell froze over 
before I'd betray doctor-patient confidentiality."

"It wouldn't come to that," Chris interjected. "Lester's situation was 
different. Grasso got him by proving he had shown professional 
misconduct by being aware of your violent tendencies and not 
acting to protect his other patients....well, that's a rough version of 
a rather picky legal point. But there is no way she can pull that with 
Mulder. She can't touch him now."

"I still want something in writing - a formal contract." Ted said 
thoughtfully. He looked up at Chris. "Get Arnold on it immediately. 
I want something foolproof; something that cannot be broken. In 
fact," he turned to look at Mulder. "If it's all right with you, I'd like 
to put you on legal hire not just to Neil personally, but to the firm 
as a whole. We can contract it as a three month agreement, pending 
re-evaluation at the end of the time."

Mulder nodded. "That's fine with me. What would my contracted 
duties to the firm be exactly? We ought to at least make it look 
reasonable."

"Actually, it's something I've thought about doing before," Ted 
replied. "Many of our clients can use emotional support through 
their cases, and it would be helpful to have a consulting 
psychologist available full time to the staff. We can go elsewhere 
for professional testimony, but it would be good to have someone 
to tell us where to start. Besides, the stress of these cases can get to 
the attorneys as well as the clients."

"Kind of an in-house EAP." Mulder commented. Ted nodded.

"That's all well and good," Neil interrupted. "But what about my 
hypnosis?" He stood his ground when they all turned to look at 
him. 

Mulder shrugged. "I'm still willing to give it a go."

Neil grinned at Ted, who frowned sternly at him, then sighed deeply 
and leaned back in his chair. "All right..."

"Yeah! Thanks, Teddy!" Neil exclaimed, even as Ted continued to 
speak.

"...but only with either Chris or myself in attendence, and I want the 
session tapes kept here in this office."

"You bet," Neil agreed, favoring all three of them with another of 
his brilliant, boyish smiles. Ted stared impassively at him, Chris 
shook his head and smiled towards Mulder. Mulder raised his 
eyebrows at Chris, then nodded at Ted. 

"Let's do it."


End Part Three