From lazydark@aol.com Sun Nov 03 19:10:31 1996 *Authors notes: This is the rewritten edition of Mislead Tortures, which I wrote roughly a year ago. I'm kind of embarrassed to read the older version and like to *think* (humor me here, okay? ) I've gotten a little better at writing in the last year. So, thanks to all those wonderful people who have been here for me since that long ago date when I came to the X-Files creative community. Your help, even though I can't remember some of you, was very much appreciated. DW.VM.MKR.VL.KL.KA.LAW.JA.JZT.KW.T.MR.AS.AD.MH.ND.PB.MR -Thanks- *Disclaimer: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner and The X-Files (all encompassing) belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and Fox Broadcasting Corporation. No serious infringements intended. *Warning: Rated (R) for a *bit* of language. T h e X - F i l e s Mislead Tortures By Charleyne Hall (lazydark@aol.com) Part One ----- The cold rain poured down over the windshield. Twin wipers worked in constant rhythm, clearing the rain only to have more replace it seconds later. Fox Mulder squinted through the water streaked shield, hunched over the wheel, as he drove. He strained to see the road and any other vehicles that might obstruct his path. His hands were cold, but he gripped the wheel so tight that the knuckles turned white. He moved once, snapping on the radio. "Every move you make, every breath you take, every single day, I'll be watching you..." The song by the Police was loud and disturbing. It reminded him of people who watched his every move, waiting for that moment where he'd slip up... He switched the radio off, unnerved. He let out a loud sigh, then realized there was another sound filling the car. His phone was ringing. Keeping his eyes on the road, he fished in his jacket for the phone. "Mulder," he declared, struggling to stay focused on his driving. "Mulder, it's Scully. Are you on your way over?" The voice was soft. She sounded tired. "Yeah," he answered. "It's a bitch driving in this weather. Have you been waiting long?" "No, not long." She paused, then added, "Mulder, did they tell you what's going on?" "No, Skinner wouldn't say a word," he replied. Walter Skinner, Assistant Director of the FBI, their boss, had called about twenty minutes earlier telling Mulder that he had a new case for them. Usually, when he called so early--five o'clock in the morning--something was wrong. "Okay, well, let's not get our hopes up, huh? I'll talk to you when you get here," she said and hung up. My hopes up? he thought. Guess I'll have to wait to find out. Slipping the phone back in his jacket pocket, Mulder yanked the wheel hard to the right, pulling into the J. Edgar Hoover building lot. ----- Fox Mulder was rarely surprised by anything. He'd seen a great many things in his years of working with the FBI. He was in charge of his own special group of cases entitled X- Files. These cases dealt mostly with paranormal phenomenon and alien abduction stories. His partner, Dana Scully, often had trouble swallowing some of his outlandish theories. She was skeptical, sometimes trying to make Mulder look at the more "scientific" explanations for their cases. There was no denying, however, that she'd had her own share of brushes with the paranormal. Despite their differences they made a good team. She kept him in line while he introduced her to new and strange things, nearly every case. Stepping out of the car into the pouring rain, Mulder hurried towards the complex of offices. He passed several agents in the hall, all wearing identification clips carrying the bold blue FBI letters. Some of them regarded him strangely, but others merely ignored him. Mulder tried not to think about it as he turned the corner which lead to the elevators. He'd have to take one down to the basement, where his office was situated. He reached the office and burst through the door, sopping wet. He peeled off his jacket and hung it behind the door. When he turned, he realized that he wasn't alone. Dana Scully was sitting at his desk, her gaze fixed on a case report. She brushed a strand of auburn hair away from her face, seemingly engrossed in the file. She didn't look up as he took a seat across from her. He noted that her hair wasn't damp, but slightly messed as though it had once been wet. She looked as tired as she had sounded on the phone. She wore a gray colored pantsuit which, as usual, was immaculate. It occurred to him that his own brown hair was matted to his head, and that he must look disheveled. He raked a hand through his hair, dragging the wet strands away from his forehead, where they'd plastered themselves. Sighing, he sat back and waited for her to tell him what was going on. It had to be fairly important if Skinner had called them in so early. Finally, Scully looked up. There was a gleam of confusion in her eyes that made Mulder sit forward. "What's going on, Scully?" he asked. "I'm not sure, Mulder. This doesn't explain much. It's just a preliminary police report." She frowned, turning her attention back to the file again. Mulder glanced around the office. Every inch of it was a mess and only he could find half of the things that were kept here. On the wall directly behind his desk was a poster that read, "I want to believe". To the left there was a bulletin board with newspaper clippings and various pictures of cases that he and Scully had been working on. Gazing back at Scully, Mulder saw that her frown had deepened. Still, she didn't look up. "Scully?" he asked, eyeing her reactions carefully. Before he could say another word, Scully closed the file and raised her eyes to his. He could discern one emotion quite clearly--anger. There was another there as well. What was it? Pain, maybe? "What's the matter?" Concern crept into his voice. He stood up and walked around the desk to stand beside her. She didn't move. She stared at the spot where he'd been sitting. "Scully?" he asked again. "I didn't know..." Scully whispered finally. "I didn't think I'd know anyone who was there." "Where? Scully, what are you talking about?" He was at a loss. Scully just nodded silently at the folder. She vacated his chair, turning her back to him. He almost asked her to tell him herself, but he noted the way her shoulders had hunched forward. Deciding that he'd better find out what was going on, since Scully obviously wouldn't--or couldn't--tell him herself, he reached out and snatched the file. Curiosity broke through the haze of worry. He opened the file and began reading. Hundreds of missing people. A convention for believers of the paranormal was being held. People who were fascinated by things such as ghosts, psychic abilities and various other things of that sort had put up displays. Mulder had almost gone himself. Now he was glad he hadn't. Every single person in the Harrison Convention Center was missing. No one saw anyone leave, they just vanished. There was a tentative list of names. It showed people who were verified as having been there, and some that were supposedly there. Out of the entire list, he only recognized one. Melissa Scully. Jesus, Mulder thought. He glanced at Scully again. She was staring at the wall. He realized why she'd been so upset. Having been reading the file, in her detached manner that comes with training as an FBI agent, she'd been slapped with the shock of seeing her sister's name on the list. "Scully--" he began, but she whirled around and held up a hand. "Don't say a word, Mulder. I'll be okay," she said. Her gaze dropped from his again and she walked quickly out into the hallway beyond the office door. For an instant, Fox Mulder remembered a time when he was a young boy. His sister had been taken, too. She had been nine and he twelve. The vivid memory of the shimmering light that had engulfed her, while he was paralyzed, stayed with him. It haunted his dreams at night. Mulder shook his thoughts back to the present. He couldn't compare Samantha with Scully's sister. For one, they didn't have any evidence to prove anything and secondly, they didn't have the entire story. While Samantha's disappearance had happened so many years ago, Melissa's was new, and if they were careful they might be able to get her back. Mulder closed the file and left the office, intent on following Scully. ----- Mulder found Scully outside the women's bathroom, leaning against the wall. Her face was expressionless and fatigued. He smiled, gently, and offered her his hand. After a minute, Scully took it, squeezing. He regarded her carefully, but she wasn't allowing her emotions to break through the solid mask she'd created that covered her pain. Sighing, Mulder let go of her hand. ----- Dana Scully had heard her partner describe his sister's disappearance several times. She'd even heard the tapes that were made of his hypnosis sessions, the ones where he revealed his helpless feelings as she'd drifted up and out the house, surrounded by shimmering white light. Scully had never known what to say to him. She didn't know how to tell him that she believed him. Well, believed that he believed he was right. He thought his sister had been abducted by aliens. For all she knew, he thought her sister had been, too. Melissa was always more open to extreme possibilities than Dana herself had ever been. That fact alone lead to this whole situation. Melissa was missing because she'd gone to that stupid convention. Hundreds of people had disappeared. Just... gone. Impossible, she thought. She felt Mulder loosen his grip on her hand. It was strange, she seemed to draw a sense of security from the man she'd been partnered with. Their partnership had been rocky at the very start. Mulder thought that she had been sent to "spy" on him, as he put it, but Scully hadn't thought of it like that. She was supposed to write reports, file them and be done with it. It wasn't until much later that things were revealed to her. Things that showed her that not everything was as it seemed. People were watching Mulder and her. He'd apparently stepped on toes by revealing some things that they didn't want revealed. She felt his hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. "Come on, Scully, I'll drive you home," he said. She nodded. He told her to go grab her coat and keys and that he'd meet her out at her car. Scully wanted to ask him what he was going to do, but she saw his expression and decided to let it go. ----- Fox Mulder watched Scully walk around the corner. Only when she was out of sight did he remove his cell phone. "Skinner." The voice was clipped and distinguished. "Why the hell didn't you warn her?" he asked. "Agent Mulder?" "Yes, sir," he said, conjuring his snottiest voice. "What are you talking about? Warn who about what?" "Why didn't you warn Scully about her sister, Skinner?" Mulder spat into the phone, ignoring the strange glare of a passing agent. "I don't know what you're talking about, Agent Mulder. What's this about Scully's sister?" Skinner's voice softened, he seemed almost concerned. "Damn! You didn't even look at that case, did you?" "I noted that it seemed paranormal enough to send to you, but beyond that I didn't feel it necessary to read through the whole thing, no." Mulder was furious with the man, but he knew Skinner had a point. "Sorry, sir," he said. He punched the END button and slipped the phone angrily into his pocket. He made his way down to the basement office, grabbing his coat. ----- End Part One From lazydark@aol.com Sun Nov 03 19:12:16 1996 *Disclaimed in Part One. T h e X - F i l e s Mislead Tortures by Char Hall (lazydark@aol.com) Part Two ----- Mulder slid into the drivers seat of the car, the rain having soaked his coat even more than when he'd gone in. He shook his wet head, sending droplets of water everywhere. Scully looked at him for a moment, wiping the stray water from her face. "This is the worst rainstorm I've seen in a long time," she commented. "Yeah, this is pretty bad," he said. With that he started the car and slowly drove out of the lot. He would have to come back and get his own car later that morning. Hopefully the weather would be better by then. As he drove, Mulder couldn't think of anything but their case. How did hundreds of people just disappear? They don't, unless... Unless what, Mulder? Unless they were abducted. Mulder had an uncontrollable urge to go to the scene and see just what had happened. He needed to see for himself, so that he could draw his own conclusions. "Oh no you don't," Scully said. He hadn't realized that she had been watching him. "What? Don't what?" "You're not going there without me, Mulder," she said. He could feel her staring at him, knowing that she would insist that she come with him, that she was fine. "You can't come, Scully." "And why the hell can't I?" she asked, her tone so sharp that it just dared him to defy her. "Because you're in no condition to go anywhere, except home to bed." He chanced a glance at her. She was still staring at him. "Hey, who's the doctor here?" "Seriously, Scully. You can't come. You're too close to the case," Mulder said, mustering his most authoritative voice. "Mulder, there's nothing you can do to stop me and you know it. Now don't waste time arguing. If you're going, so am I." ----- Mulder stared at the building that was bathed in the pale headlights of the car. The big gray blocks that made up the outside of the building looked close to fifty years old. They were worn and rain streaked, stained from years of exposure. Scully stood beside him, looking in the opposite direction and probably noticing the same things. Both of them were getting drenched as they surveyed the outside of the building. Mulder didn't think anything looked out of place, not that he really thought anything would. He began to move towards the front entrance of the building, but Scully tugged on his sleeve. "Mulder, look!" She had to shout to be heard over the rain. She was pointing at a door, that was slightly ajar, at the far side of the building. Mulder nodded, and began to move toward the door, following Scully. Maybe they just walked out after all, he thought, as they reached the door. Shaking his head, Mulder peered through the opening. "Power must've been cut," he said. It was completely dark beyond the door. No security lights, nothing. "I'll go get a flashlight," he told Scully and was off before waiting for an answer. Reaching the car, Mulder opened the drivers side door and shut the vehicle off, taking the keys around to the trunk. He tried multiple times to get the key in the hole, without any light, and finally managed to succeed. Lifting the lid of the trunk, Mulder was able to feel around for the huge, heavy flashlights. His hand closed around one and he hefted it out, being sure to take the keys before slamming the trunk closed. When he returned, he found that Scully was no where to be seen. A controlled panic rose in his stomach as he called her name. No answer. Damn! "This is ridiculous... Scully!?" Angered, he flicked the light on and slowly walked through he door, which slammed behind him. As he walked, he swung the light left and right, discovering that he was in a small service hallway which was probably off the main hall. There were double doors at the end of the hallway, and a few doors to the left and right along the way. "Scully?" Mulder called again as he walked forward, using light to illuminate his way. Mulder could feel the presence of imminent danger, but he couldn't pinpoint it's source. It was like his instincts were trying to tell him something. With that in mind, Mulder pulled out his gun, making sure the safety was off. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. He walked slowly, poking his head through some of the doors that were open. None of them, he noted, had locks. Halfway down the hall, Mulder came across the fuse room. He decided that it would be a good place to start. Twisting the handle, he was able to open the door easily. He saw that this was the only door with a lock. Probably to keep people from cutting the power, he thought. His gaze fell on the dark gray fuse boxes that lined the walls of the room. Inspecting one carefully, Mulder ignored the danger warning sign and opened it. Thinking that maybe someone didn't cut the power after all, Mulder flicked the main switch on, waiting to see if the lights would come on. Nothing. Ah well, he thought. Opening the next box, Mulder reached forward. Suddenly a huge crash startled him. He whirled on his heel and raced out the door. Now, in the middle of the hallway, Mulder shone his light towards the double doors at the end. "Scully?" he shouted, sprinting for the doors. Bursting through, Mulder stopped when he noticed the enormous size of the building. It looked so small from the outside. Numerous tables, arranged end to end to create long rows, were housed here. Displays upon displays were set up, providing large amounts of information to intrigued audiences--had there been anyone here, it really would have been a spectacle. Mulder took a step, and heard a sickening crunch. He swung his light down to find a pair of reading glasses beneath his foot. Mulder's initial thought was that they were Scully's, but as he slowly trailed the light along the floor, he discovered millions of things littered the floor. Purses, watches, glasses, wallets... Millions of personal items, just littering the floor. Suddenly his flashlight caught something that made his heart skip. At the end of one long row a shoe was poking out from beneath an exhibit. Mulder swallowed uneasily and started in that direction. Mulder kept his light focused on the shoe as he approached. Any sign of movement would have been nice. Reaching the exhibit, Mulder saw that the shoe was indeed attached to an ankle, and the rest of a body. Scully's body. "Scully?" he asked, kneeling beside her where she'd crumpled to the ground. Setting down his gun and grasping her ankle, he pulled her out from beneath the table. She felt like a dead weight. "Jesus." He could see the blood which stained her already red hair. His fingers instinctively reached for her neck, checking for a pulse. "Oh, thank God," he breathed, finding a strong pulse. She's unconscious, he thought. Relief washed over him. Until he saw the a shadow cross in the beam from his flashlight. He made to grab his gun, but it was too late. He felt something crash against the back of his head and everything swam into darkness. ----- Dana Scully was unaware of how long she'd been sleeping. She groaned and tried to roll over in bed. Small problem, she thought as the feeling of something hard beneath her back flooded her, you're not in bed, Dana. Suddenly the pain that'd been waiting for her to wake up crashed over her body and she realized she'd been lying on the floor. The pain throbbing in her temples was so strong she thought she just might pass out again. Slowly she regained more of her senses and it was shortly after she regained her hearing, that she heard the soft breathing of someone else. Moving her arm carefully, so as not to make the pain in her head any worse, Scully felt around herself. She could feel the cold concrete beneath her clammy flesh, but then her palm came to rest on something else. It felt to her, although she was in too much pain to be quite sure, like someone's arm. Instead of risking movement again, Scully tried to open her eyes. At first it felt like they'd been glued shut with some type of rubbery cement. Finally she was able to pry them open, only to reveal darkness. Closing them again, Scully's thoughts swam in and out of focus. She was unable to discern where she was. With the pain in her head, she could feel herself sliding back into the unconscious state from which she'd just emerged. ----- "Scully, is that you?" A voice swam into her head, tugging her back to the cold, dark room that she'd awoken in earlier. She was reluctant to go, but the stiff feeling beneath her back was enough to change her mind. The voice, she recognized, was Fox Mulder's. How had he gotten here? Right. The case. "Yeah," she managed, although her mouth felt pasty and dry. "Scully?" "Wha--what?" she whispered. She could tell that nothing was going to come out of her mouth right. She wanted to tell Mulder that she thought she had a concussion. She could feel herself slipping into sleepiness, close to losing consciousness again. "Damn! Scully, your voice is slurring. Listen to me, you can't go back to sleep. Okay? I know it probably hurts to talk, but just keep talking to me. It's important, okay? Scully?" Scully grunted. "W-whatever, Mulder," she said. She understood what he meant. If she kept talking to him, he'd know that she hadn't succumbed to her injuries. "Do you remember what happened?" Mulder was asking. "Uhm, Mulder... I--" Scully began, but stopped when Mulder lifted her head from the floor. "I'm going to lift you up a bit. My jacket will keep your head off the cold concrete. Now, Scully, this is probably going to hurt and I'm *really* sorry," he said, gently grasping her shoulders and propping her up. "Ouch!" Scully cried as shooting pain soared through her body, beginning with her head. "Sorry," Mulder whispered. She could almost imagine him shrugging apologetically. "Can you move on your own?" She hadn't tried. "Maybe," she croaked. Even as she said it, she had been trying. Her leg moved to the left without much pain. Thank God. "Yeah, I can move." "It sounds like your voice is going back to normal. You probably just needed to adjust to the fact that you're still alive," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. Yeah, I'm alive, she thought. Too bad. "I got smashed in the head too," he continued, "took me forever to get myself going again. From what I saw before I got slammed, it looks like someone did a dandy. I'm pretty sure it's worse than my own injuries." Scully didn't speak. Instead she listened to Mulder's voice. For the first time, she noticed the way his voice boomed through the room. She assumed it was a room they were in. It felt closed in, although she couldn't be positive. Assumptions make asses of us all. "Mulder, where are we?" she asked, quietly, trying desperately to ignore the protest of pain from her head. She heard a shuffling noise, felt him move away from her. "I don't--" he stopped. What the hell was he doing? Then she listened harder, straining against the pain to make out the noises. They were distant, as though coming through a closed door. Scully heard Mulder moving again. Suddenly a blindingly bright light scorched the room. Scully squeezed her eyes shut. The drumming in her head increased, causing her thoughts to swim again. She swallowed hard and opened her eyes. His image floated into focus. A dirty looking man stood before her, rubbing his hands eagerly together. He ran his tongue over what was left of his teeth. The remaining few were black and rotting. His clothes were torn in several spots, the knees of his jeans were non-existent. His brown hair was tangled and a sloppy mess. He had large hand prints of dirt over his face. He had a gun. Scully cringed without even realizing it. "What a purty s'prise I get me here," he said. His voice slurred, probably caused by a cheap bottle of whiskey. Maybe he'll share a shot, Scully thought. It was a bit of dry humour and it really wasn't helping her. Shit. We're in for it now. It occurred to her that Mulder had moved away. She let her eyes move from the man at the door, focusing on Mulder. He was standing behind the door, waiting for the vagrant to walk into the room so that he could make his move. "I'm a federal agent," Scully said, quietly. "Don't try anything. You'll get caught. I promise you that." Not bloody likely, she added to herself. "Oh, I ain't carin' 'bout that, wee'un. I's probaly better off spendin' me times in the jail." He sauntered through the door, his drunken stupor causing his feet to tangle a bit. He caught himself and righted, pausing to suck in a deep breath. Scully swallowed and willed Mulder to make his move. She didn't want this freak touching her. As if responding to her wish, Mulder jumped out from behind the door, slamming his weight into the man. Both of them crashed against the wall to Scully's left. Mulder struggled with the man. Their breathing sounded loud to Scully's sensitive ears. She wondered how long it would take Mulder to gain the upper hand. A grunt escaped Mulder as they toppled away from the wall, landing on the ground. Scully had to scramble to get out of their way. She watched in relief as Mulder finally managed to pin the man to the ground, holding his gun arm firmly against the floor. If Mulder tried to move, however, the man would easily throw him off. Maybe he'd even have time to aim and fire. Ignoring the pain in her body, Scully struggled to her feet and made a very unstable grab for the gun. In the end, she had to step on the man's wrist, driving the heel of her shoe down on it, in order to get him to drop the weapon. She grabbed the gun and lifted it to check the clip. Finding a whole one loaded in the gun, she aimed it at the man. Her hands were shaking. The vagrant only laughed. His attention was on Scully, allowing Mulder an opening. The blow was enough to knock the man out, but Mulder had to shake the pain out of his hand afterward. Mulder jumped off the man, his own head swimming, just in time to catch Scully as her knees gave out on her. "Too much for one night, I'd say," Mulder noted, his forearms hooked under her armpits. He propped her against his chest while he shifted his position. He lifted one of her arms around his neck so that he would be able to slip his own around her waist. "Okay, let's get out of here." Scully nodded. "Mulder, what about him?" She was too tired to really be worried about him, but... "Leave him, he's not going anywhere." "What if he wakes up?" "Okay," he sighed, easing out of his hold on Scully. "Can you stand by yourself? Promise you won't turn rag doll on me, huh?" Scully nodded weakly. Mulder let go of her and walked over to the man. He slapped one cuff on the man, then dragged him across the floor and secured the other cuff to a pipe that ran down from the ceiling. "Happy now?" he asked. She squinted her eyes at him, but didn't bother to answer. "I need some aspirin," Mulder said. "How about you?" ----- End Part Two ----- From lazydark@aol.com Sun Nov 03 19:14:34 1996 *Disclaimed in Part One. T h e X - F i l e s Mislead Tortures by Char Hall (lazydark@aol.com) Part Three *Disclaimed in Part One. T h e X - F i l e s Mislead Tortures by Char Hall (lazydark@aol.com) Part Three ----- Two hours later, Scully was propped against a pillow in a hospital bed. Mulder sat in a chair and beside him, much to Scully's revolt, sat Frohike--one of the Lone Gunmen. Frohike grinned at her, but in turn she did her best to ignore him. "Does it hurt?" Frohike asked. Scully shot Mulder a sour 'what is this toad doing here?' look, but he grinned, his white teeth shining in the florescent lighting above. "What do you think?" Scully retorted, sarcastically. She sank back against the pillows, as though trying to disappear into them. She wished Mulder had never let the man into her room. Mulder finally caught on to Scully's relative discomfort and tactfully removed Frohike from the room. When the man finally took the hint and disappeared, leaving a tiny stuffed bear on the bedside table, Scully was nearly bursting with anger. "Why did you let that--" She struggled to come up with a *nice* word, "--person in here, Mulder?" "Oh, come on, Scully, he wanted to make sure you were feeling better. He really is a sweet guy on the inside." Scully's response was to curse and throw her pillow at him. "Hey! Not so violent, partner!" "Well, it's bad enough that I have to stay here when all you got was a bruise," Scully responded, then added, "as usual," under her breath. "It's not as though you had to go in there when I left to get the flashlights." He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. "In fact, I think that was a rather stupid move on your part." "I heard some noises. I guess it was just that... bum. Stupid, yes. I'll admit that," Scully said, then thought of something else. "I want to know what happened to those people, Mulder. Have you come up with one of your brilliant theories yet?" She emphasized the word 'brilliant', almost mocking him. Then she saw that he'd put a lot of thought into it, she could tell by the way his eyes were dancing. Instead of answering Scully's question, Mulder just held up his hand and waved passively. "Not now. I'm going to leave. It's time you got some sleep, anyway. Your gun," Mulder patted the gun as he set it on the table beside the stuffed bear. He held up her car keys, "and keys." Scully watched, passively, as Mulder gathered his coat over his arm. She wondered if he knew he was still clutching her pillow. Apparently not, because he'd disappeared out the door. "Hey!" Scully cried, waiting patiently. Five seconds later, he poked his head back around the door. "What?" Scully smiled. She grabbed the bear from the bedside table, holding it up. "Trade ya?" Mulder's brows furrowed, then he looked down when she nodded and saw that her pillow was still tucked under his arm. "Nah," he said, tossing her the pillow. "There ya go." He disappeared again. ----- The rain had stopped by the time Mulder reached the curb outside the hospital. Morning had already started in DC and Mulder found himself watching the cars on the street. He sighed, sticking his hands deep in the pockets of his trench coat. From the hospital, Mulder would have to walk back to the Hoover building and get his own car. He already knew what he would be doing this morning. Running on very little sleep was something he was accustomed to, but he could feel it in his muscles, lack of sleep making them stiff and sore. Not to mention the dull throbbing in his head. Mulder shrugged and drew his coat tighter around himself. By the time he reached the building, Mulder was bored to tears and at a dead end with his thoughts. He wished he'd taken Scully's keys and promised to bring them back to her. Locating his car in the mess they called a parking lot, Mulder fished his keys out of his coat pocket. He slipped into the front seat and leaned back. He started the sedan and flipped the radio on, listening for a brief moment to some music he'd never heard before. Shrugging his tension tightened shoulders, he yawned. He put the car into gear and laid rubber as he pulled out of the lot. ----- The lights were on in the building this time. He stopped to inspect the door which he and Scully had gone through earlier that morning, finding that it hadn't been forced open. He nodded. So the bum was telling the truth, Mulder thought, remembering back to a conversation he'd had earlier with the man before the police had put him in a cell. After questioning him briefly, Mulder learned that he'd gone into the building the same way that they had. He said it was open. What the man wouldn't explain was why he'd knocked both agents out and kept them in the storage room. He said it was open. That meant that the police hadn't been very careful when they'd closed up shop and gone home. Why? Mulder had a strange feeling that he was doing the dirty work again. They hadn't found any worth while evidence, so they called the FBI to come and see what they could do. Of course, the case was paranormal enough that it was handed to Mulder. Mulder sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. This case seemed different to him. He couldn't figure out why. The police had done a terrible job of investigating, as far as Mulder was concerned. The question he was going to have to answer was why. Why had they blown this one off. Why was it handed immediately to him? What was special about this case and what was it that was bothering him so much about it. Pushing through the double doors, Mulder was once again confronted with the vast auditorium. This time he would have more time to poke around and turn things about. He would make this visit worth something, and hopefully find out what was nagging at him. ----- Dana Scully lay in the hospital bed, staring at the white ceiling and wondering how terminally ill people could stand it here. They know nothing else, Dana, that's why. She shrugged her shoulders, feeling much better than she had twenty minutes ago. Her headache had subsided to a dull throb, but it hadn't kept her thoughts from snapping back to Melissa. Now, Scully's fingers curled around the cruciform on the necklace her mother had given her when she was fifteen. Scully could remember sitting in a coffee shop with Melissa, talking about her partner. It was then that Melissa had brought up the topic of Dana's abduction. That day, Scully had learned that Mulder had been waiting in his apartment for a moment when her abductors would break in and ransack it. He was waiting to kill them. Except that Melissa had shown up. Melissa had convinced him that he should be at Scully's side, instead of bowing to the urge for revenge. Scully knew she had to the thank Melissa. She should have done it long ago. Now it may be too late, Dana, she thought. Biting her bottom lip, Scully dried the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand. No one was better to help her than Mulder. He would find out what happened to Melissa, even if it wasn't an X- File. Scully had already decided, by the time she pushed herself out of the bed, that she was going to call her mother and then get the hell out of the hospital. Scully was standing at the end of the hallway on the payphone, speaking in hushed tones with her mother when she first spotted the man in the black suit. He walked past her room twice, before disappearing again. Scully was afraid of what his appearance meant, but forced the issue from her mind. "Mom, I love you. We're doing all we can, I'll call you back, okay?" she said into the phone. "Love you, bye." She hung up the receiver and padded back down the hallway to her room. She grabbed her soiled clothes from the chair where they had been folded. Once in the bathroom, changing back into her normal clothes, Scully began to feel a little better. She used a small brush to straighten her hair out as well as she could manage, before ducking out of the tiny cubicle the hospital dared to call a bathroom. Glancing around the hospital room, Scully spotted a pen and quickly scooped it up. Finally, she walked to the end of her bed, where the doctor had hung her chart. She smiled as she picked it up and signed it, dismissing herself. With that finished, she took her gun, car keys and the stupid little bear. She wanted to get out of the hospital before anyone caught her and questioned her signature. ----- The man watched Dana Katherine Scully as she fumbled with the door to the sedan that served as her mode of transportation. He didn't resist the smile that spread on his face when he saw her wince in pain. He knew that she really wasn't as recuperated as she'd led herself to believe, that she would be nothing but weak should he try to get her now. But he'd already decided that it would be easier to do both, her and Fox William Mulder, together. Get both subjects out of the way at the same time. Much easier. He nodded, smiling when Scully put her head on the steering wheel. He could tell that she was already kicking herself for leaving the hospital. She had gumption, though. He admired that. He liked to stalk people with gumption. It provided more of a challenge for him. Maybe he'd let them live long enough to feel pain--know pain. His superiors had provided him with a perfect opportunity. One which he couldn't pass up. One which also provided him with privacy to do whatever he wanted. He licked his lips, watching as the beautiful red- headed woman drove out of the hospital parking lot. His grin faded, but a tingling sensation--the one caused by the fact that he was near to feeling the power of death--replaced it. He started the car, his hands shaking with delight, and followed Agent Scully. ----- End Part Three ----- From lazydark@aol.com Sun Nov 03 19:16:27 1996 *Disclaimed in Part One. T h e X - F i l e s Mislead Tortures by Char Hall (lazydark@aol.com) Part Four ----- Mulder stood in the middle of the auditorium, scratching his head. He turned slowly, pivoting on one foot, and took in all the information he could without inspecting up close. With the lights illuminating the place, Mulder felt eerie. The room seemed so much bigger than it really was. Probably because it's empty, Mulder thought. He fought the urge to cringe at the silence. He knelt down to take a look at one of the purses that had littered the floor. He opened it, feeling like a thief, and dumped it's contents on the floor. He began to sift through it, finding the usual things. Lipstick, papers, a compact, a wallet, and even various other things. He opened the wallet, looking for a name. He saw a drivers license and gingerly lifted it out of it's place behind the plastic shielding in the wallet. Ginger Holloway. He recognized the name as one of those on the list. He carefully put everything back in the purse and picked up another wallet that happened to be near by. A man this time. Thomas Gore. Another wallet belonging to Adam Small. That's weird, Mulder thought. None of these people seemed to have girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, husbands, friends or relatives. Standing, Mulder dragged a hand through his hair again, putting one hand on his hip as he tried to think. "Okay, Mulder, don't people usually carry pictures of other people in their wallets?" he asked himself, frowning. You're fucking right they do! Mulder quickly rounded up as many wallets as he could, taking some out of purses, but gathering most from the floor around him. Bundling them in his arms, Mulder walked to the end of one of the long rows of display tables and dumped them on a low table. Feverishly, Mulder pulled everything out of the wallets and studied each piece of identification carefully, trying to discern if his hunch was right. ----- Dana Scully cursed when she dropped her car keys for the second time. She stood just outside the Harrison Convention Center, and had been just about to go through the same door she and Mulder had entered when they first came. She stooped to pick them up, shoving them deep in the pockets of her trenchcoat. She reached a shaky hand out and pulled the handle of the door, easing it open. Brushing a lock of red hair out of her eye, she slipped through it and this time made sure it was closed behind her. She was completely unaware of the man who had been watching her from a distance. Wandering down the hall, Scully came to the auditorium where she had been attacked earlier that morning. She touched the back of her head where a huge welt had formed, grimacing at the memory. She clenched her teeth together and forced the memory out of her mind. Absently, Scully ended up staring at the exhibit she'd been straining to see when the bum had hit her. In the florescent light of the auditorium, the exhibit looked boring and lifeless. Despite herself, Scully crouched down and looked under the table. Just as she suspected, there was a large red stain. Her blood. Scully wrinkled her nose at the thought of having lost so much blood. No wonder I'm so exhausted, she thought. She straightened up and glanced around the auditorium, wondering if she'd been wrong and Mulder wasn't here. Seconds later she spotted him, reclined in a chair before a pile of drivers licenses. His eyes were closed and his feet were crossed at the ankles, as if he'd fallen asleep while thinking. As she neared, she realized that was exactly the case. She could see his eyeballs moving rapidly beneath the lids. His face twisted into a look of horror and she knew instantly that he was having another one of his nightmares. She reached out to touch his shoulder, planning on waking him, but suddenly he jumped and cried out. She had to step aside to avoid his fist as he tried to punch a demon within his nightmare. His eyes snapped open finally. "Mulder?" she asked. "Scully, I'm sorry, I--" he stopped. "Forget about it, Mulder," Scully said. She gestured towards the wallets. "What's this?" "What are you doing here?" Mulder asked, ignoring Scully's question. "Don't change the subject--" "Answer the question." "I signed myself out. Now, will you answer my question?" Scully was about ready to fix Mulder with a look, when she saw that his face had paled and he was staring past her shoulder. It was then that she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Someone, she realized, was standing behind her. "Sorry, Agent Scully, I'm afraid Agent Mulder won't be answering that right now," a calm, definitely male, voice said. She felt the man slip his arm around her waist and she felt the gun that he now had pressed against the base of her skull. From the look on Mulder's face, she knew it had to be the man she'd seen back at the hospital. With that realization came anger. Scully started to struggle at the same time that Mulder's hand crept into his coat. Scully heard the deafening click of the gun's hammer cocking. She froze. "Easy, Agent Mulder, you don't want me to plant this tiny silver piece of shit in your partner's head, now do you?" the man asked. Mulder's lips thinned into a tight line. "Right. Now, hand me your gun, handle first." Mulder slowly complied, his actions deliberate and stiff. "Good," Scully heard the man say. "Now, reach into Agent Scully's coat and pull out her gun too." Mulder did as he was told. "Okay. Now, Agent Mulder, I'm going to let Scully here tie you up. If you behave, she won't end up with a hot little jumping bean in her brain." The man loosened his grip on her waist, handing a small bit of yellow rope to her. He was quick to tighten the grip again, though. "Stand up, Agent Mulder. It shouldn't be too difficult. I'm sure you've been tied up before," the man said, a snicker following. Without being told, Scully slowly wrapped the rope around Mulder's wrists, using a sailor's knot--her father had taught her to make them when she was a little girl--to secure the rope. "Ooh! The lady has initiative. I like that. Pull on the ropes. I want to see that they are tight. That's it, yank on it," he said as Scully pulled on the rope. "Good. Agent Mulder, you're going to walk with us. Remember, funny stuff equals brainsplatter." The man jerked his head in the direction he wanted Mulder to take. ----- "Well, we're back in this room again," Mulder said. The darkness enveloped them like a second skin, leaving Mulder with the feeling that he'd really like to look at Scully and make sure she was okay. Besides, it would be easier, in the dark, for Scully to lie in her answer to his next question. "You okay, Scully?" "Fine, Mulder. Really." The expected answer. "My headache is back, but I'm sure I'll live." "The excitement never ends, huh?" he asked. "Not with you around, Mulder," Scully said. He could tell that she wasn't in the mood for joking, and closed his mouth before he could slip and make another joke. Instead of talking, Mulder rubbed his wrists together, trying to loosen his bindings. "Any luck?" she asked. His eyes widened, then he realized that she could hear the ropes rubbing together. "No," he said. His voice held a flat, almost hopeless tone. "Listen, Scully, I'm really sorry about this. I--" "For what? Mulder, for crying out loud, why do you always have to take the blame for everything?" Scully said. Mulder cringed at the sound of her voice. "I saw the bastard at the hospital, Mulder. I saw him and I pushed it out of my mind. Maybe if I'd paid more attention we wouldn't be here now." Mulder heard her sniffle, and realized that she had begun to cry. "Scully," he whispered. "This wasn't your fault either. Try not to cry, please?" "I'm not crying, Mulder," she said, stubbornly denying the tiny sniffle he'd heard. "Besides, I'm fine. I'm just fine." "Keep repeating that, Scully, and maybe you'll *finally* believe it," Mulder said. "You're not all right. You just lied through your teeth twice. What I want to know, Dana, is if you're going to crack." "Fuck you, Mulder." He listened as she shifted further away from him. He guessed that he deserved it, but he was sick of hearing "I'm fine, Mulder" all the time. He let the silence spread between them until he couldn't stand listening to his own breathing and heartbeat. He took a chance and said, "What're you thinking, Scully?" "That you're an asshole sometimes," Scully said, but her voice didn't hold any of the coldness that he would have expected to hear. He thought he could imagine her smiling. "Actually, I don't know what to think. I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about being in this room again." "Join the club. I've been running through a bunch of scenarios in my mind, Scully. Do you want to know what I was doing with those wallets, Scully?" "Uh huh." "Well, I was examining them all. I looked in a few wallets and realized that no one had pictures of family or anything. So, I looked at the licenses together. Any wild guesses on what I found out?" "No. Tell me, Mulder. What did you find?" "All of the people, twenty four that I looked at, were born the same year. Each of those drivers licenses are fakes, issued the same date of the same year." Mulder was shaking his head as he talked. "All fucking fakes." "What are you suggesting, Mulder? That this was all just an elaborate set-up to get us once and for all?" "If it is then where the hell is Melissa?" Scully didn't answer and Mulder instinctively knew that he'd just pinched a nerve. He didn't speak again, for fear of choking on his foot. ----- The man sat outside the door listening as the conversation within the room faded to a stop. He had heard a few words here and there, only catching one whole sentence when the woman had told her partner to fuck off. Such a wonderful friendship, he thought, chuckling. After locking them in the room, the man had unzipped his duffel bag and had spread it's contents carefully out on the floor. He thread the silencer on his gun. He took more pleasure in the silence of the weapon than he did in a loud bang. He set the gun down beside a vial of a clear blue liquid. He had a special treat for the man. If these two were as good of friends as his superior pointed out, then this could be fun. A hallucinatory drug that would make the tiniest of things seem monstrous. He licked his lips, savoring the excitement that had built in his gut. Fun. Fun. Fun. He hadn't worried about tying the woman up, she was much too weak to be anything but a minor pain anyway. His self defense classes would help him to counter anything she might try. His hands were steady as he picked up the vial of liquid and unpacked a syringe that had been tucked in the side pocket of the duffel bag. He carefully filled the syringe half full. This probably would be very quiet, but he was assured that the bullet that pierced Mulder's brain after the torture definitely would maintain the silence. Before opening the door, the man flicked on the light, setting his face with a stony half-grin. ----- Dana Scully wondered if her life had suddenly been cut to a short end when the light snapped on, forcing her to close her eyes. Out of instinct she tried to press herself against the wall. The man was wearing the same black suit that she'd in the hospital. His brown hair was slicked back so that it made tiny little spikes. Probably a flammable type of jell, she thought. If only I had a match... It was a couple of seconds before Scully saw the syringe in the man's hand. Little white spots from the flash of intense light still clouded her vision. She saw a gun in his hand too. The feeling of relief she felt when the man started toward Mulder with the syringe raised, faded quickly into one of disgust at herself. Ashamed of her own thoughts, Scully watched in horror as the man jabbed Mulder's arm through his trenchcoat and shirt, pressing the plunger all the way in. Mulder gritted his teeth, but, like Scully, he made no movements. "Sweet dreams, Agent Mulder," the man said, maniacal laughter erupting from him as he quickly retreated, slamming the door behind him. To Scully's surprise, the man left the light on. Scully quickly scrambled toward Mulder who sat against the wall, dumbfounded. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "I wonder what that was," he said quietly, almost as if it wasn't bothering him at all. "I keep expecting to go into convulsions and die." "Jesus! Sit tight, Mulder. I have no way of telling what that was, but I don't think he'd kill you that way. It seems to me that he'd rather enjoy watching us squirm before he puts 'jumping beans' in our heads." "Well, I always wanted to have a Mexican Jumping Bean all my own. I guess this is close enough, huh?" Mulder let a tiny laugh escape his lips, but his face was serious when he said, "I'm just glad he didn't inject you. I don't think I could handle that." Scully felt her breath hitch in her chest. "You think this is any easier for me?" she asked, pain mixing with the words. Mulder looked as though he was about to make some sort of reply when suddenly he thrust his chest forward. He squeezed his eyes shut and cried out in pain. "Shit! It's started to take effect." Scully hurriedly slipped her trenchcoat off her shoulders, stealing the thick belt from the waist of it. "Mulder, sit still," she commanded. He'd begun to writhe against the wall, making it hard for her to get a purchase on his arm. She slipped the cloth belt around his arm, above the puncture spot. She tied it as tight as she could, cutting off the circulation. "I should have done that earlier," she whispered, running a hand through his thick, dark, sweaty hair. "Too late, Scully," Mulder said in a dreamy voice, just before he began to scream. ----- End Part Four ----- From lazydark@aol.com Sun Nov 03 19:18:04 1996 *Disclaimed in Part One. T h e X - F i l e s Mislead Tortures by Char Hall (lazydark@aol.com) Part Five ----- Mulder's vision blurred so much that he was forced to shut his eyes. His thoughts scattered like a frightened school of minnows, leaving him with little grasp on reality. When he opened his eyes, Scully had disappeared. He looked around, confused. Where could she have gone? And why the hell did she leave me here? It was a few seconds of incoherent thought before Mulder was finally able to focus on a shape across the room. Death's head! Oh, bloody fucking hell. He was looking right at Death. He was sure of it. A bleached white skull with pearly white teeth. Blood dripped from it's nose, staining the perfect white with a sharp, contrasting red. Out of its eye crawled a big bug. A praying mantis. It was then that Mulder began to scream again. He only stopped screaming when he felt bugs--millions of tiny, gross, multiple-legged bugs--crawling all over him. He fought to keep his stomach contents down, while he began to beat at his legs and arms. He struggled to stand, hoping that the bugs would fall off. They didn't. He looked down at his legs. He saw the little clusters of bugs on his legs. Ants crawled up under his pantleg. Earwigs congregated on his sleeves, some of them managing to find access to his ears. Turning frantic, Mulder screamed again--a high-pitched, almost girly scream--and slammed his rope-bound hands over his right ear, trying to deny the bugs access. They'd eat his brain! Through it all, Mulder suspected that it was the death's head that was commanding them--driving them to eat him alive. Oblivious to any the tiny bites, Mulder searched frantically around for the skull. If he could kill it, the bugs would stop. ----- Scully felt her stomach clench into a knot when Mulder began to scream again. She had to move away from him because he'd not only begun to thrash, but he was also pounding his own arms and legs. She pressed herself against the right wall, watching in horror as he struggled to stand. He looked as though he were dancing. She knew better though. He kept mumbling about bugs and death's heads. He clawed at his face and blood began to trickle out his nose. Scully clenched her teeth together. She winced when Mulder stopped screaming. His breathing sounded labored and watery, as though his lungs were full of a liquid. She swallowed hard, when his eyes, blazing, fell on her. She couldn't help whispering his name when he started towards her, both of his hands curled into grotesque claws, bound together in dangerous purpose. She could almost see murderous intent in his eyes. He stumbled forward, his hands managing to close over her shoulder as she ducked away. She pursed her lips and jerked out of his grip. She almost got away, but, for a man who was hallucinating, Mulder was able to grab the back of her blouse, holding tightly this time. Scully heard the material rip as she struggled to get away. Mulder kept his hold on her blouse, lunging forward. His body slammed hers against the wall. Scully gasped as all the air was crushed out of her lungs. She felt like someone had put her in a vise and was slowly tightening it. "Mulder!" she cried, gasping. She took a deep breath- -as deep as she could--and grunted, ducking under his arms, elbowing him in the side as she did so. Mulder was too quick. Too damned quick. He grabbed for her blouse, missed and stumbled forward. As he fell he managed to grab her foot, taking her down with him. Scully tried to roll. Mulder was there, though. She struggled to flip over on her stomach so that maybe she could crawl away, but Mulder had managed to straddle her. He raised his bound hands high above his head, clenching them both together to make one huge fist. Scully sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut so tight that it hurt. She waited for the blow. When it didn't come, Scully hazarded to open her eyes. She saw Mulder, looking down at her, with his hands raised high. Tears streaked his face, but she still didn't see recognition in his eyes. Instead he began to jerk, tiny convulsions racing through his body. His eyes rolled back in the sockets and he fell sideways off of her. Scully sucked in a shuddering breath, pushing Mulder the rest of the way off herself. He twitched again, more like a violent jerk, then lay silent. She hoped he was out of his misery, but had the suspicion that where ever he was now, he was still in nightmarish hell. She checked his pulse finding it to be fast, but not unhealthy. She breathed deeply, then retreated to sit against the wall. She drew her knees to her chest and allowed the silent tears, which had welled in her eyes, begin to flow. The only sounds in the room was Mulder's ragged breathing and occasional moan. ----- The man enjoyed Mulder's screams. He had heard some shuffling noises, a sure sign that Mulder had been seeing very strange things indeed. He had heard the woman say a few things, but he really wanted to hear her scream. Maybe I can make her scream, he thought. The thought made a smile come to his lips. He was getting tired of waiting. He wanted to feel the electricity that he felt whenever he took a life with his hands. He sighed and looked down at the gun on the floor. He let his fingers walk along the floor, until the tip of his index touched the gun. The cold metal could very well have bit him by the way he drew back. A spark lit in his eyes, imagining that the gun had bit him. He was determined. He picked up the weapon again, caressing the muzzle as though calming a frightened horse. He lifted the gun closer to his face, rubbing the stubble of his chin on the chilly metal. He felt superior, in charge. It was time to take his gift. The gift that a human being gave to him in its death. ----- Scully remained very still, pressing herself even further into the corner that she'd managed to find. She kept her head down when he opened the door. Even if she'd had the chance to jump him before she got shot, she didn't have the strength, that's why she hadn't attempted to wait for him to enter. She could hear his heavy breathing, it was the breathing of a very excited man. Scully cringed and bit her tongue to keep from crying. "Dana, honey, you should come out of that corner," he said quietly. She heard him shuffle around a bit. Finally she could stand it any longer. The use of her first name had made her stomach lurch, but the tone in which he'd used it made the bile actually rise. Scully lifted her head, her jaw set and her face so incredibly red that she could have been a tomato. "You shouldn't get so angry," the man said. He stepped through the door, making sure it stayed open in case he needed to make a hasty exit. He sort of swayed his way over to wear Mulder was crumpled on his back. He used the barrel of the gun to brush a sweaty block of Mulder's hair away, before knocking gently on her partner's forehead. "How about we put him out of his misery? Would you like to do it, or would you rather watch?" He seemed to be asking Scully what her choice would be, but instead, he shook his head and continued, "I thought not. Okay, I'll let you watch. I should have figured that a woman would be too weak to shoot her best friend." The words chilled Scully's heart, making it beat faster than she thought humanly possible. She clenched her hands together, the knuckles turning white and she moved forward, using her legs to draw herself out of the corner. Startled at her movement, the man looked in her direction, catching the expression on her face. He obviously misinterpreted it, shaking his head and laughing maniacally before saying, "Or is he more than your best friend? Now isn't that exciting," he said. "Makes his gift to me a great deal better. To know that his woman watched him die... Oooh, I like that." Scully squeezed her eyes shut as the man's finger tightened on the trigger. She heard the shot and jerked out of reaction, letting out an anguished cry come out of her, despite the fact that it would please him to hear it. She bit her lip and tried to control her emotions. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, she screamed again and opened her eyes, fighting to get away. Except, even as her vision cleared, she began to relax. He wasn't fighting with her. He had moved back... To her utter shock, Scully was looking into the hard face of her boss, Assistant Director Walter Skinner. He was marine all the way and he definitely had no reaction--that she could see--to having just shot a man. Scully involuntarily began to shake again. It's over, she thought. ----- Dana Scully had slept in. She was wrapped comfortably in scads of blankets, the chills of the events of the night before making her cold despite the heat. The addition of air-conditioning in her apartment added to the breeze that assaulted her heart. Yawning lazily, Scully slipped out of the blankets and pushed herself to the edge of her bed. Just as her bare feet landed on the floor, she heard the phone beside the bed begin to ring. It's not Mulder, he's in the hospital. Still a bit unrelaxed and frightened, Scully wondered who'd be calling. Settling on the assumption that it was her mother, she lifted the receiver and said, "Hello," in her most jovial voice. "Good guess, Dana," he mother said, laughing. "Do you always think about who's on the phone before you answer?" Scully shook her head. How the hell does she know these things? she wondered. "No, mom. I just figured it wouldn't be Mulder because he's in the hospital. But listen, have they found anything new on Melissa? Skinner won't let me near the case..." "That's what I'm calling to tell you, Dana. She's alive and well. They found her near the river, unconscious. She's awake now and she wants to get the hell out of the hospital. They said since there were no injuries, she could go this afternoon..." Scully wasn't listening any more. She was focusing on the joy she felt at the news. She smiled and nodded, flopping back on her bed as her heart filled once again with happiness. It's not too late, Dana. Tell her you're thankful that she stuck by Mulder. "Dana? Are you alive? Heaven forbid if I'd killed you with the good news." Scully's mother was obviously delighted too, making such jokes at a tender time. "Yes, mom. I'll meet you guys this afternoon, okay?" ----- Mulder stretched out on his couch. His feet hung off the end and his back ached, but at least the headache was gone. What he really wanted to do was get a headache the *real* way. He'd been out of the hospital for two days, had talked to Melissa Scully, telling her that he was thankful that she was all right. He'd also talked to Skinner and filed a million and one reports before returning to his apartment to live in the darkness and brood on the things that had happened. Just as he thought, Scully had immediately pushed the incident out of her mind. She brushed it aside as though it'd been just like any number of their cases. She refused to talk about it, understandable as that was. He thought maybe if he could spend some time with her, she'd feel better and maybe talk about it. Getting her half tanked was an idea too. It sure as hell beat going to the bar by himself. This thought still in his mind, Mulder picked up his cell phone. He dialed the number and waited for her curt response. She must think about who's calling and know it's you, he thought, a smile touching his lips for the first time in days. "Scully, it's me." "No shit, Sherlock," she said, her voice holding that playful tone that he had not heard often. "Hey, what are you doing? "My laundry." "No, seriously-" "Seriously, Mulder." He shook his head. Difficult. Did she always have to make everything so bloody difficult? "Are you watching the Redskins, Scully?" "Mmm-hmmm." "Well, how about we catch the end together at Mike's?" She was silent for a moment. He could picture her trying to decide between sitting on the washing machine and reading a medical journal or coming with him to watch football on TV. She arrived rather quickly at the decision. "Sure, Mulder, I'll meet you there." It was a start. "Sure. Half an hour, Scully. Seeya." He pressed the END button, feeling a little lighter. They didn't often spend time together outside work, but he supposed that maybe just once wouldn't hurt. Envisioning Scully, red faced and completely drunk beyond the ability to control herself, Mulder headed for the door. This could be fun. Definitely a way to forget. Even for a little while. ----- End -- __________________________________________________________________________ XAngst Anonymous Member T h e - GLWG - - - -RP 1.5- Lone Gunwoman #41 \ / naXi .5 Melissketeer X Skinner Chick Extreme Possibilities Member / \ EMXC Mysterious & Suspicious Founder - - -Riley- X-Files Fan Fic Lover F i l e s Co-Founder Anti-Spellin' Brigade (tm) _________________________________________________________________________ Charctavius of the New Triumverate RHAUNCH-E 1996 Starbuck winner for 'Best Horror Story'!