'No Name' Series by Steven M. Wagner, Melody Morgan Carter and Steven Mitchell Title - No Name - Redux - Unfinished Business Author - Steven Mitchell E-Mail - yolcu42@yahoo.com Finished - 30 May 2001 Rating - PG13 Category - MA Keywords - Mulder, Spender Spoiler - None Summary - This short takes place near the end of 'No Name - Redux', at the beginning of the one year gap. The original story cried out for closure, and this was my attempt. Enjoy Disclaimer - See 'No Name - Redux' * * * * * * * * * * * * Two weeks later Somewhere in Texas He didn't know how Skinner had gotten the address, and didn't care. The motel was an old, run-down place, gratefully placed almost in the middle of nowhere. Mulder idly wondered if there were cornfields somewhere nearby. He imagined he could hear the humming of bees. A flicker of light shown through the slight break in the curtains of one of the rooms. Television. He had quit watching TV so long ago, no longer willing to watch the lies. He gave a quick glance to make sure nobody was around. *At this hour, only people like me are awake.* Then he looked to the motel room window again and made a promise to himself to work on that insomnia. Quickly he loped across the road, and within a few seconds was crouched below the window. He chanced a peek through the curtains, and saw light seeping from behind the bathroom door. Pulling the pick tools from his pocket, he set to work on the motel room door. Within moments he heard a satisfying click, and smiled with grim satisfaction, thankful that electronic locks hadn't yet made it to dumpy places like this. He opened the door slowly, and the smell of cigarette smoke escaped to his nostrils, making him gag slightly. *Nasty habit...so glad I quit.* The only sounds were the slightly muted tones from the television. - - - - - The bathroom light went out as Spender opened the door. He was halfway to his bed before he noticed that he was no longer alone in the room. Someone had decided to take a seat by the table, without asking. Only one person lacked those manners. "Agent Mulder, isn't this a suprise? I was wondering when you were going to pay me a visit. I've missed our little talks." He walked to the nightstand and grabbed a cigarette, and then reached to his pocket for his lighter. "You should know by now that smoking is bad for your health." Mulder's tone was low, though with a slight ironic tone to it. He wasn't sure that Spender caught it. "Yes, well. I would say that it's a little late for me to worry about that now, isn't it?" Spender never took his eyes from the seated man dressed all in black, as he took his own seat at the foot of the bed, only a few feet from Mulder. "What brings you by at this hour?" "Let's just say a little unfinished business." Mulder's hands rested in his lap, helping to hide the Sig Sauer from view. His eyes felt dry as he realized he hadn't blinked since Spender had come out of the bathroom to find him there. He blinked once as he stood up, pointing the 9mm at the pallid face of his adversary. "Let's just say I've come to take your mind off your problems." "Agent Mulder, you suprise me. All this time I thought you an honorable man, and here you stand pointing a gun at my head." He took a long drag on his cigarette, locking eyes with Mulder. His hand began to shake slightly when he noticed an unfamiliar glint in the hazel eyes. He had known this man, hadn't he? Had known him...had known. Had. And then he realized that he was thinking in past tense. "Honor? Honor!?!" Mulder's voice rose to almost a shout, then dropped suddenly. "What would you know about honor. You who have deceived the American people for all these years...taken the lives of innocent people...taken my...my..." His voice broke, but he continued in a whisper, "...my Scully." "Mulder." No more titles, no pretense of professionalism. Spender realized that this was now personal, and he thought back. It seemed so long ago, though it was only six months. Where had the time gone, he thought. He shored himself up and continued, "We've been here before, haven't we Agent Mulder?" Back in control. That's better. "You are not the kind of man to do the things I've done, the things I would do." He blanched as Mulder thumbed the trigger back, the gun's aim never wavering. But to his credit he held his ground. His mind began to race, and he wasn't used to that. It was always he who controlled the situation, controlled the opponent. Life is a chess game, he thought, and laughed inside as he now tried to figure out which piece Mulder was. Which one HE was. He fell into the one mode that had always worked before. Threaten. "Where will you go, Agent Mulder? Where will you run? If you kill me, there will be no one to stop them from coming after you. I've always liked you, you know. And what would Scu..." He stopped, having caught himself in the mistake. Checkmate. "Scully? What would she think? You should have thought about that before you put her, AND me, through HELL you son-of-a-bitch!" Without hesitation Mulder pulled the trigger, and walked out. Frohike glanced sideways as Mulder strode from the room and slid into the passenger seat. Without saying a word, he put the car in gear, and pulled out into the empty street.