Life While They Live It Part VII- Rapture by. Paul Wartenberg COPYRIGHT: Once again, let me state for the record that I am poor. I am not making money off this. Mulder, Scully, and additional characters are owned by Chris Carter and Co., and I hope they know that it would be very nice if they didn't sue me for this. RATING: Romance, but nothing naughty. There is vulgarity, but it's Scully saying most of it so we're cool about it, right?...oh, and hopefully a good-sized serving of humor (at least it was funny when I wrote it...) ;-) SUMMARY: Post-Gethsemane. What if Mulder DID commit suicide? What if Scully's cancer was incurable? I know, I know, that doesn't jibe with Redux, Redux II and most of season 5. Then what could possibly explain why Scully is back in high school?... Toe to toe dancing very close/ Body breathing almost comatose/ Wall to wall people hypnotized/ And they're stepping lightly/ Hang each night/ In rapture... - "Rapture" Blondie Somewhere beneath the Pentagon Apr.9, 1982 Friday night Smoke hovered below the lone overhead light in the room. The man remained focused on the papers covering his desk, letting the cigarette clinched between his thumb and forefinger burn slowly to its filter. Finishing the sheet in his other hand, he gently stacked it back into its file and placed the now useless cigarette butt in the nearby ashtray. He reached for his phone, pressing four numbers and whispering, "Bring him in." The door at the other end swung open, and three figures stepped into the room. The middle figure walked with his hands before him in large metal cuffs that covered his hands and wrists. They stopped in front of the desk, where the Smoking Man quietly waved away the two guards. He waited until the soldiers had left before speaking. "I know what you did, Mr. Smith." Jeremiah Smith didn't answer. His accuser took a moment to retrieve another cigarette, lighting it and inhaling a quick hit of smoke. CancerMan stood and circled the desk. "You should be informed that the people you have betrayed have been located and confirmed. The ones working on special projects will remain, as long as we are assured no sabotage will occur. The others..." "I know what I've done, and that they have paid for it," Smith whispered, remaining composed. "But we're not here to talk about them, are we?" He inhaled his cigarette again, letting the smoke through his nostrils as some hint of anger. "I know what you did with Agent Scully." The cataloger glanced briefly at the Smoking Man before looking away. CancerMan's face twitched, almost concealing a quick smile. "It is actually no surprise to me. I knew you would not allow poor Scully to resume her drab, young life or to confuse her...enthusiastic partner Mulder..." "Then why did you let me do it?" "You're the alien. You tell me." Smith glared at the Smoking Man, seeing something there he had barely noticed before. "You're from the future...just like Dana Scully..." He could no longer contain his smile. "Which makes me aware of...certain events relating to the project. Despite what my compatriots believe, she may still be of some use to us..." "It's more than that, isn't there?" Smith tilted his head slightly. "Some aspect of the project, something to do with Mulder..." "Enough." The Smoking Man put aside his cigarette for the moment, letting it rest in his ashtray. "I brought you here for a reason..." "Which was?" "The committee does not yet know that Scully is still with Mulder, that your mind block has failed..." "It has not. She will have no recollection of the meeting, I can assure you..." "Silence. When they do discover this, I and my allies might be able to provide an excuse that will...protect them for now. You, however, will most certainly be inquisitioned for this failure...and we will then determine all of the others you have NOT told us will be against the project..." Smith glared at his accuser. "I've revealed all I know." "Don't lie, Mr. Smith. You're not very good at it." CancerMan retrieved his cigarette and briefly inhaled some more smoke before placing back in the ashtray. "I know you're hiding others in more...sensitive positions..." "What do you want, then?" Smith stared straight into the light. "You obviously want some deal. I'm listening." The Smoking Man smiled. Annapolis, MD Scully residence Apr.10, 1982 Saturday morning "Rise and shi..." Scully stopped in mid-sentence as she stood at the bottom of the basement stairs. Once again she found Mulder's bed straightened out and empty. "Oh, hell, where did he go this time?" Scully had hoped this time Mulder would stay the night. After leaving her church and retrieving Mulder's rental car, she had him come straight back here where Scully's mom waited with an extensive set of questions. Sneaking Mulder out of St. Baptista's had cost Scully little in terms of school punishment: she was already serving detention, and without exact evidence of a stranger on campus there was no incentive for Father Loreau to add to it. However, a phone call to one's parents meant the fifth-degree treatment at home... Mrs. Scully waited at the door with a Bible in one hand and a beach towel in the other. When she saw Mulder sheepishly follow her daughter through the front door, however, she smiled and quickly tossed the towel behind her into Captain Scully's den. "Fox, I see you've decided to return." He nodded. "Um, hi, Mrs. Scully." "Well, Dana," she continued, arching an eyebrow at her child. "This explains everything." "Except for the towel," Mulder added. Both Scully women glared at him. "Don't ask," Dana hissed. Melissa appeared at that moment and grinned uncontrollably. "Sis! Mulder. It's good to see you both. Um, everything okay, mom?" "Everything's fine, Melissa. Dana, your father had to go to the Academy this afternoon, so dinner's going to be a little late. Fox, will you be staying for dinner?" Scully touched Mulder's hand, briefly. "He will, mom. Um, he'll need to use the basement again, so..." "Oh, I'll get that," Mrs. Scully smiled. "That shouldn't take long. Why don't you and Fox wait upstairs until dinner?" "Sure. Rules still in effect?" Scully's mom tapped one hand against her Bible. "Need to ask, little one?" Dana smirked. "Just checking. Let's go prop the door open, Mulder." As they reached the top of stairs, Mulder noticed the sound of scratching down the hall. Melissa also noticed. "That's Buddy. Charlie agreed to baby-sit while Mulder's here." "When did he agree to that?" "When he got home." Mulder scowled. "How did you know I was going to be here?" Scully turned and scowled at her partner. "Don't ask." Missy smiled. "Dana, can I speak with you, sister to sister, for a sec?" "Sure." The short redhead swung her bedroom door open and shoved Mulder inside before closing the door. "Whassup?" Her older sister glanced in both directions before whispering. "Did you and he have that talk?" Scully nodded. "What did he say?" Dana kinda sorta shrugged. Melissa glared back, waiting. The younger sister arched an eyebrow. "Well, what did he tell you?" "That he was afraid of telling you." Scully shrugged again. "He was, a little." Melissa blinked and shook her head. "All right, let's make this specific. Dana, did he tell you that he loves you?" A muffled "Hey!" came through Dana's closed door. The sisters turned and both banged on the door. "Back away, Mulder!" Scully hissed before turning to face her sister. "Um, well, sorta..." Melissa went back to glaring at her. Scully grimaced a few times before continuing. "Well... He said I was beautiful and that he did care for me..." "Did he say that he loves you?" "Not like that, no." She crossed her arms defensively. "And I don't want him to." "Dana!..." "No, listen Melissa! I care for him too, even if he is a jerk..." Another "Hey!" interrupted her. "...And he is a jerk, a compulsive, know-it-all jerk, but I understand why." Melissa waited. "I told you what had happened to him, to his sister. To what he lost. I mean, even now he's looking for Samantha, it's why he went and disappeared this week. It's...his obsession, the need to know what happened, the need to find her..." "But it's not your obsession, Dana..." The younger Scully merely smiled and shrugged. "Perhaps not. But I know he needs my help. No one else can, or understands what he needs..." Her older sister crossed her arms. "Do you love him?" Scully scowled. "I know you, sister. The thought has crossed your mind..." "Like I said, feeling like that's not going to do either of us any good right now..." "Dana, you're hiding." Melissa stepped closer and draped one arm over her little sister's shoulder. "You say it's this quest for the truth that keeps you with him, but I know you, and I've seen you, how you are around him, with him..." "Missy..." "You shouldn't hide from something like that. You need to let yourself be you. You need to...to reach out with your feelings!..." Scully scowled at her sister. "You know, it was a big mistake to let you see `Star Wars'..." "You can't shrug this off, Dana, you just can't walk away from it..." "No." She opened her bedroom door slowly, noting that Mulder was now at the far side of her room. "But I can put it on hold. It can wait. We both have time, after all. There are other things to do first." "Like what?" Melissa waited, worried that her sister was going off on some bizarre murderous trek. Dana grinned. "Like going with Mulder to New York tomorrow." Her sister's jaw dropped just as far as her shoulders. "New York." "CBGB's, definitely." Missy's eyebrows now shot up as she glared at Scully's partner. "CBGB's." "And he's paying." Then it was Mulder's turn to act shocked. "Well, hold on th..." Scully turned and shot him a look. He grimaced and turned away. "All right." The rest of the night went well, sort of. Dinner was still dinner, with Dana's father mastering the fine art of a certain Filipino dish, unpronounceable but delicious, he had learned while serving overseas. Bill thankfully had to stay on campus this night, and Dad thankfully avoided bringing up Mulder's run-in with his own father earlier in the week. The dinner table was its usual place of chaos, almost embarrassing for Scully except for the big grin she saw plastered on Mulder's face. After dinner, Scully took a moment to check on her little brother, to make sure all went well at his end of things. Charles got away scott free: his friends had covered for him in such a way that none of the nuns knew he was missing. He was able to retrieve a lost, confused Kerwin from the underground air vents, and assured Dana that her friend would be instructed more thoroughly about his responsibilities to keeping the Metro safe. Charlie did ask, oddly, if Mulder had a habit of dropping things. She did her best not to smirk. The night had ended with Scully escorting Mulder to the basement steps. "I hope you know your way down there," she grinned. "Oh, I always know my way around basements, Scully." "You going to be all right?" "Oh...yeah. Buddy's still in Charles' room?" "Yeah." They stood, awkwardly, still avoiding something they knew had to be said. The glances they gave each other confirmed they were both unsure how to handle the words and the feelings they had admitted earlier that day. "Well," Mulder finally whispered. "Busy day tomorrow." "Yeah, busy day." Scully nodded her head and turned toward the stairs heading up to her bedroom. "Sleep well, okay?" Mulder waited until she was well up the stairs. "Probably not, Dana, probably not..." And now, the morning after, Mulder had disappeared again. Scully sighed to herself as she trudged up the stairs to the rest of the house. Melissa poked her head out through the archway to the kitchen. "You okay, sis?" "No." Dana sighed. "Mulder split again." The elder sister scowled. "Relax. He went jogging." The younger sister arched both eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. "So he's still taking me to New York then..." "New York?" Dad's deep voice echoed from the den. Dana thought quickly, trying to recover from her faux pas. "Uh, New York Public Library, Ahab..." "Starbuck. Here. Now." Grimacing, she stepped timidly into the den. Captain Scully had risen from his seat, placing a book in the chair as he crossed his arms. "I don't remember agreeing to any road trip this weekend for you, Dana." "Um, well..." "Starbuck, this is Easter weekend. We had plans. Your mother's side of the family is coming up from Virginia Beach for the day, and..." "I know, daddy, but..." "And you're not exactly off the hook for some of the shenanigans you've been pulling at school..." "Daddy!..." Scully glanced away briefly, struggling to keep her composure. "It's not like, oh, like I'm going on a crime spree or anything, I just want to, I dunno, enjoy the weekend a little..." The elder Scully was in full "Serious Father Figure" mode now. "I know I let you wander off into the night life of Annapolis, but Starbuck at least you're within distance of home. You know how far off New York is? Do you know how dangerous that place can get?..." "Hon?" A knock at the doorway grabbed the attention of both Dana and her father. Scully's mother stood serenely near the entry, with Melissa standing rather awkwardly behind her. Captain Scully stepped back a bit. He recognized the look on his wife's face and realized what was happening here. While in his household the chain of command worked in a conservative, patriarchal way, the only force stronger than the Serious Father Figure was the United Scully Women. It was rare, but when it happened he was incapable of fighting it. He scowled, deciding he had to make a stand on this issue. "Maggie, before you take her side, consider what it is she wants to do." Mrs. Scully nodded quietly, but pursed her lips. What she had to say could wait a moment. "I'm just concerned, as a father should be concerned. She wants to head off to New York City, one of the most dangerous places on Earth, at night when things get a lot worse, probably to go to those nightclubs, the ones she's got posters for plastered over her wall..." More silence. Mrs. Scully waited. "Hon, do you want a drunken daughter stumbling back in on Easter morning, when we've got church to go to and family, your family I might add, coming in later for a visit?" Melissa arched an eyebrow. That happened last year. "You know I'm right on this Maggie. There are things this family has to do, AS a family. And this weekend is one of them." Scully's mom finally answered. "So there's something wrong with Dana entertaining her friend Fox?" "There is if it involves crossing three state lines and going into a hell-hole of a city." "And New York is any worse than L.A.?" "At least there she went with her cousins..." "So there wouldn't be anything wrong with someone going with them?" Mrs. Scully gently arched an eyebrow, subtly highlighting the slim smirk on her lips. "Because otherwise I have no problem with her and her friend going tonight." Dana smiled and ran over to hug her mom. Scully's mom whispered very forcefully into her daughter's ear. "But you better be back Sunday. And sober, little one!" Captain Scully's scowl got deeper. Damn, he walked right into that one. "All right, then. She and this Mulder fellow can go to New York, WITH an escort." Dana and Melissa both screamed a girly scream of exultation. They pulled together and started planning out a detailed list of places to go, people to meet, and property to destroy. "Hold on now." The elder Scully raised one hand to silence the premature celebration. "I get to say who goes as the escort..." "Your brother?! Chaperone?!?!" Mulder grimaced, barely keeping his voice low. Even though Scully's family was elsewhere cooking breakfast, voices can carry inside a house. "For God's sake, Bill hates my guts!" "Bill doesn't hate anyone," Scully shrugged. "He's just...opinionated and stubborn." Her partner rolled his eyes, sweat from his recent jog slowly running along his nose. "Ha. Past, present, or future, your older brother has this instinctive need to rip my arms, legs and head off!" "Five out of six ain't bad..." Mulder paced the basement floor. "Do we have to do this? I mean, go to New York. Your family did have plans this weekend..." "Mulder, unlike you, I'd like to enjoy my youth now that I've got it back." She took a seat in a rocking chair kept in the corner. "There were a lot of things I had done when I grew up, but not all the things I wanted to do. I've surfed on the Pacific and sailed on Chesapeake Bay. I've climbed mountains and hiked forests. I've traveled into the night of L.A., but I haven't done New York, not until college...and by then a lot of the scene and people had changed. I'm in the mood right now to do the Big Apple." "But you can do that any time you want..." "Mulder, how long is this going to last? Us being here, back in time? I don't want to waste the time that I have, and there is - really - so much to do..." She sighed. "And it would be nice to get away from all the wackiness around here. I mean, it's nice getting back to know my sister again, but there's so much mystical chanting I can take..." He rubbed his hands up and down his face. "God. Your brother's going with us..." Scully did her best to smile. "April IS the cruelest month, Mulder..." And you drive all night and then you see a light/ And it comes right down and it lands on the ground/ And out comes the man from Mars/ And you try to run but he's got a gun/ And he shoots you dead and he eats your head/ And then you're in the man from Mars... - "Rapture" Blondie New York City Intersection at Bowery and Bleecker Nightfall "Oh, yeah." Scully bounced as best she could on her high heels, slowly moving between the crowd surrounding the outside of CBGB's. Almost her entire body was encased in black leather, reaching up from her ankle-high boots along her form-fitting pants to her smooth biker jacket. The only color on her came from red eyeliner and her red t-shirt with small tears long the midriff. That she ever developed a conservative fashion sense, Mulder openly mused on the drive up, proved how Quantico's training can mess with one's head. "God, Scully, sounds like amateur night!" Mulder had placed one hand over the ear closest to the building, doing his best to filter the noise. "C'mon, Mulder, it's rock and roll. Besides, amateur night's earlier in the week." She nodded to the posters plastered outside the bar. "These guys, they're...they're...nobodies. God, they went nowhere..." "I can't believe you listen to this crap, Red," a voice hissed right behind her ear. She turned to stare at her older brother glaring over her shoulder. "I can still remember you begging for `Hotel California'..." "I can still remember you crying for the `Bee Gees Greatest Hits,'" she hissed back. Bill's scowl indicated she would pay for that remark later on in her life. A crowd of mostly young girls dressed in the fashion of the times, which meant form- fitting multi-hued spandex topped off by lousy haircuts, pushed toward one direction along the street. "Here we go," Scully waved toward the masses. "The line inside." It took almost an hour for them to even make it to the door. The line kept flying apart as people shoved their way ahead of others, starting a few fights. One nasty brouhaha spilled into the Scully party, but all three acquitted themselves well with Scully shoulder-tossing a petite girl with half her hair shaved off, Mulder body-slamming a beefy skinhead, and Bill punching out a drunken rail-thin biker. Scully's adrenaline was already pumping from the music and brawling. She grinned as she got to the imposing truck-sized man guarding the door. The signs around the door indicated tonight's crowd was adults only, 21 plus, and the bouncer seemed insistent on enforcing that rule. She fished around in her purse, a hand-sized leather pouch of sorts, and handed off her fake driver's ID. The bouncer glared at Scully's ID. "This," he finally announced over the noise, "has got to be the worst fake ID I have ever seen in my life!" "Oops." Scully arched both eyebrows and grimaced. She quickly feigned a look of doe- eyed innocence, a pleading glance begging for some kind of leniency. The bouncer glared back, measuring his response. He handed the card back to her with an air of disgust, then shook his head. "What the hell. This is New York. I'm used to professional forgeries anyway. All right. No drinks! If I see anything remotely like a beer bottle in your hand or smell alcohol on your breath, I'll hand you over to the cops myself." She reached up to try a hug. He pulled back a bit. "No hugging! I'm on duty! Now g'on! Dance, for God's sake!" Mulder and Bill stuck close to Scully as they squirmed their way through the narrow passage into the club. They made it as far the egress at the other end, close to the bar at the right end of the room. The crowd packed itself from the stage at the far end all the way back to the bar, where a large and unmoving group of leather-bound biker types stood like rocks against the sea of people. "How the hell did you do that, Red?" Bill leaned over her shoulder while she glanced about for a better view of the stage. "It's like you've got some luck with you tonight." She smirked at that and seized Mulder's hand, dragging him into the crowd toward the raised seating area to the left. "In my experience there's no such thing as luck. C'mon, guys, there might be some seats this way." The empty spot she spotted turned out to be a table without seats. Scully grinned anyway and hopped onto it, kneeling in the direction of the stage. "Woo-hoo!" she shouted as the band onstage finished their set and hustled away, the crowd chanting "You suck! You suck!" as they fled. Mulder kept one eyebrow slightly raised as he watched his colleague, once the perfect model of decorum and office protocol, act up like a teenaged hooligan. He had been like this all the way up from Annapolis, from the moment he saw her step from her bedroom dressed like a biker. She did conspire with Melissa at one point to wear an outfit to show off her tattoo, among other things, but Mrs. Scully somehow found out and spent an hour or so convincing her daughter to find something more...conservative. Mulder noticed himself somewhat disappointed about that and struggled to hide it...and he was a bit puzzled that Scully's mom didn't question where the tattoo came from... He mostly stayed quiet for the ride up, avoiding conversation with Bill, who seemed equally reticent, and giving Scully a few "yes" or "nos" to any of her queries. He took that time to wonder why Scully seemed so eager to do these things, to act so...it wasn't recklessness but it came damn close to it. It didn't seem a question of re-living her youth...something else was driving her to act like this... "Hey!" Scully's voice shook Mulder from his contemplation. "You look like a strong, silent type. How about getting a drink for me over at the bar?" "Oh. Sure." He took a moment to plot a course through the crowd and headed toward the stage. The mob that had surrounded the dance area had backed off waiting for the next band to arrive, giving Mulder a way to the other side of the room. He paused as others moved past him, and skirted his way through the small clusters still standing on the floor, finally reaching the bar just as the next band, announced as Severe Brain Damage from Glasgow Scotland, stormed the set and immediately tore into an unintelligible thrash metal tune. "We got three choices," the bartender shouted to Mulder over the noise. "Beer, beer, and water." "Two waters and one beer then." "What?" "Two waters and one beer! Does it have to be this loud?" "Slowly! My tinnitus is acting up again! I gotta read your lips!" Mulder slowly mouthed off the order. The bartender squinted his eyes and nodded, quickly filling two glasses with bottled water and popping open a beer bottle sans label. "What's the beer?" Mulder queried slowly. "Something from Germany," came the reply. "I wouldn't drink it though. Makes ya blind." A hand touched Mulder's elbow. He turned to see Scully smile up at him as she picked up a glass of water. "You can forget the beer. I don't think Bill's going to need it." "What?" Mulder turned to see where her older brother got to. He spotted him back at the table, noticeably in the clutches of a tall Amazon with close-cropped hair and spikes all along her jacket's shoulders. One was certainly sucking the air out of the other's lungs, but he couldn't tell which was doing all the suction. "That's not his future wife, is it?" "Don't think so." "If only we had a camera..." "I know. Perfect blackmail material." Scully turned her head toward the band as they finished their opening song and immediately ripped into another tune, this one with a more noticeable backbeat to it. "Ah. Time to dance." "What?" He scowled as she took his glass and placed it on the counter next to hers. She seized him with both hands, dragging him into the crowded pit. As they passed through the first wave of dancers, she took a quick twirl on her high heels and started moving to the beat. She kept staring at him even as she turned from one side to the other, twisting her head and grinning the whole time. Mulder just stood there. Like ninety-five percent of the white male population, he had absolutely no idea how to dance. He knew, actually, how to tango and to slow-dance, he could even lambada if his life depended on it, but the basic rock-and-roll-move-to-the-beat dance was completely beyond his understanding. Scully kept dancing, swaying to the rhythm. "You don't have to think about it, Mulder. Just move to it." "No, I do have to think about it. Should I lead with my right foot or my left?" She leaned in as the guitar solo kicked in and the crowd got louder. "Try up and down. Follow the rhythm!" He shrugged and stood there, watching as she tried another twirl in her high heels. Her eyes were closed now as she focused on the music, feeling the heat of the overhead lights and grinding bodies about her. She opened her eyes to where Mulder stood, or at least hopefully where he was dancing. He was nowhere to be seen. Mulder reached the bar, finding the glasses of water left there. He took a good, long swig of the drink, waiting for about five seconds before the shitstorm arrived...three...two...one... A small yet firm grip seized him by the elbow, yanking him away from the bar. The glass slipped from his hand, tipping over and spilling its contents across the counter. Mulder tried to turn to face Scully but she kept pulling him swiftly through the crowd, dragging him backwards toward the doorway near the stage. He finally turned to see a stairwell leading below CBGBs, into a hallway covered with graffiti and leading to a set of doors. Scully took a few steps down, turned to face him with a dark glance, then turned away and headed for the nearest door. Mulder caught up to her, leaping down the stairs two at a time, getting to her as she swung the door open, pushing it inward as they both crossed the threshold. They stumbled into the bathroom, black walls covered from corner to corner with graffiti art and obscenities. Scully leaned against a stall for just a moment, then stepped away as it rattled, noises coming from the other side. They glanced down, counting the number of legs sticking out around the toilet, and noticed the tight heavy breathing nearly drowned out by the noise above. Mulder scowled at Scully, then reached for the nearest urinal handle. The flushing noise sounded like a grenade blast, overriding the sonic noise inside and out. The heavy breathing stopped as the legs entwined in the stall shuffled about. Two punks, either of them of unknown gender, stumbled out, glared at the two intruders, and stormed back out to the dance floor above. Scully stared at him, measuring her response to his retreat from the dance floor. She finally shook her head and then grinned, mischievous and alive. "Are we having fun yet?" "I... You know, I never knew this was your idea of fun when you were growing up..." "It wasn't. Not all the time, but this is exciting... Getting out, dancing, you know, something fun." He shook his head. "Scully, I mean, you've never acted like this before. I mean, you were so..." "Strait-laced?" She finished the sentence, with a hint of a sigh. "Mulder, maybe I just want to do things a little differently now that I've got a chance to..." "I think it's more than that. I'm getting the feeling that at some point you want to go bungee-jump off of Mt. Everest at some point..." "I'm not going to do that. Everest doesn't have any outcropping to hook the cord to..." "That's not what I'm arguing here..." "Why should you even argue about it? Why can't you just enjoy the moment?" Her head tilted just slightly to the left, a sign of serious thinking. "Did you EVER enjoy your life, Mulder? I mean, I know how hard it was on your family, but I mean, when you were a teenager, when you went off to college, to Oxford...didn't you do ANYTHING?..." He shrugged, thinking back through his previous life. "Well, I called in a bomb threat at my high school in Martha's Vineyard to the American consulate in Paris..." She glared at him. "Alright, alright, I didn't make the actual call...but I found the embassy's phone number for the guy who did..." "Mulder, here you are, you've got a chance to re-live part of your youth, you're in New York City at night in one of THE clubs on the entire planet..." "It has something to do with that cancer, doesn't it?" Scully paused, catching her breath...or was it a deep sigh?... "Maybe it does. Maybe it has something to do with all those missed opportunities the last time I was around. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I know I don't have that long to live, I mean, if we go back to doing the same things we did before. Fifteen years. How long is that, really? It wasn't long enough for me, Mulder. All those things I wanted to do, and all the things I missed, because of the path I took, to the FBI, to the X-Files, to Duane Barry and...that goddamn cancer..." "You don't want to go that way, huh?" "That's the way you're taking it, Mulder." She stared at him, almost angry but mostly disappointed. "Here we are, with a chance to re-create our lives, and you want to go off playing cowboys-and-aliens." "I want to find what happened to my sister. What happened to you. What happened to us..." "We're not in a position now to do anything about it. For crying out loud, Mulder, we're kids. No authority, no means of investigating, no time really, since I'm stuck in school..." "But we have time, we know where to look!..." "Mulder." She stared at him, expressionless. "I don't want to do that. Not now." "So you want to change your whole life now. Take a different path? So...all of that, the X-Files, all the things that you did when we worked together, everything you... You really hated all of that, right?" "No." Her voice contained a mix of regret and longing. "Not all of it." Mulder recognized something in that voice. He had heard it once, early in the times they had worked together. That night they waited in the car, keeping an eye on Tooms, Scully told him how much she trusted him... That word, Trust: it meant so much to him then. But the way she said, the emotions underlying it... Scully saw something in the way he stared at her, in the way he seemed to be moving closer to her. Or was she moving closer to him?... She had seen the look in his eyes before, the look of longing and apprehension, although not this intense. She had seen it when they talked of the emptiness in his life when his family shattered apart. Perhaps I'm pushing him too hard, she thought, trying to get him to liven up, to see that part of him I saw the week before in my room, when we talked before his father arrived dragging him back into that madness... He reached out to her, quickly yet gently, placing a hand to her neck, caressing the soft skin beneath her chin. She reached up, her hand sliding along his shoulder until it reached the nape. Their eyes locked onto each other, neither able to read their thoughts but able to see the emotions flowing between them. They leaned in, closer to each other, his head lowering, her lips rising as they... "Ow!" Mulder pulled back as a firm hand slapped him on the neck. "Dammit, Bill, can't you..." The hand yanked him out of Scully's grip, flinging him across the short distance into the nearby sinks. She turned, her anger rising against her brother for interfering with this moment... ...And stared right at the person they knew as the Hunter. He stood there, arms resting at his side, his body tensed like a coiled cobra, as he stared back at her. "Fun time's over, Agent Scully." He swung out, his fist slamming into her shoulder. She turned away from the punch, letting it glance off her as she used her momentum to try a pivoting kick. The Hunter calmly reached out with his other arm, catching her leg in mid-pivot, and tossed her entire body against the stall. She fell to the wet floor, trying her best not to feel the pain in her knee. The Hunter leaned in, both hands reaching to clasp her by the neck... A noise behind him made the Hunter pause, just before he was enveloped by white liquid fog. Coughing, Scully recognized the sight and scent of extinguisher foam as she watched the shapeshifter convulse and shake himself into the corner. Mulder stumbled into her view, tossing the heavy cannister onto the sprawled Hunter. He reached for Scully's hand, pulling her back to her feet and pulling her toward the door. "Move," he whispered. "I know that," she whispered back as he swung the door open for her. Behind them, she watched as the Hunter seized the fire extinguisher and smashed it through the nearest wall as he rose from the corner. "Can't shoot him," he gasped as they raced up the stairs. "I know that...read your report," she acknowledged as they pushed through the doorway. "And it's not like we're armed now..." They hurried towards the tables, glancing about. Mulder cursed under his breath. "Dammit, where's a chaperone when you need him?" "Might have gone outside," Scully nodded toward the front of the club. "It's where we need to be anyway..." Shouts from the crowd surrounding the stage spurred them forward, squeezing through the packed passageway back through the main door. They staggered onto the street, dodging the growing line outside the bar, and ran. Mulder glanced back briefly, seeing how far back the Hunter had fallen. "We'll have to find Bill later," Scully panted, running as fast as she could in her heels. Thankfully, she had a lot of practice in the other time line. "Get to the car first, drive out of here..." They raced to the parking garage where the Scully family car waited. They headed up the ramp, making it up to the third floor as best they could. Heading down the lane where Dana had parked, they sped past the Cameros and the Impalas and the Trans Ams... ...And stopped right in front of an empty parking spot. Scully took a moment to catch her breath, then screamed at the top of her lungs. "BILL!" "And to think," Mulder gasped, bending over slightly to rest his hands on his knees, "we only left him alone for what, twenty minutes? Moves fast, don't he?..." "Ah, hell." Scully turned back toward the ramp. "Where do we go now?" "I know a place." Mulder stood. "Where's the nearest subway?" "Back down on Bleecker Street." They trotted toward a doorway in the far corner, a small stairwell back down to the street level. "Hope he doesn't come this way," Scully whispered. "Might be waiting for us at the bottom." "We'll just have to keep running." They slowly took the stairs down to the main level. Quietly, Mulder opened the door, letting Scully sneak ahead. They hunched down, using the cars as cover, keeping an eye out for their pursuer. They made to it to the entrance facing the Bowery, with no sign of the Hunter. "That way." Scully pointed them West, toward Lafayette. They hurried past the sparse crowd that huddled on the fringe of the bar scene. Mulder kept glancing about, even as they reached the stairs leading into the station, wondering where the alien assassin had disappeared. He wasn't this poor a pursuer. The station's waiting area was empty, although there were far too many shadows for Scully's liking. "Which way do we go?" "Brooklyn," Mulder stated, reading the nearest map. "We need the line to Brooklyn." "What's in Brooklyn?" "Help." A voice came too close from behind. "Not for you." Scully turned in time to see the Hunter fade in from the shadows, as if he had been invisible the whole time. He reached out with one hand, a sharp instrument showing in his palm. "Use whatever's handy, huh?" Mulder gasped as he dodged the sharp needle-like weapon. "Doesn't matter if you're human or hybrid," growled the Hunter. "This will hurt you all the same." The station rumbled, the sounds and winds of an oncoming train whistling into the area. The Hunter swung his arm again, but Mulder ducked and lifted himself underneath his arm. "Scully! Grab him!" She seized him by the arm, pulling him in the direction that Mulder was pushing. They caught the Hunter off-balance, moving him quickly toward the tracks. They both knew, instinctively, what they had to do. She let go, and he shoved, timing it just right to tip their adversary onto the tracks. He said nothing, not even a grunt, as he landed on the tracks. The station lit up as the train pulled in. A door opened, Mulder and Scully spilling into the empty car. She fell into a seat, while he grabbed a railing. A few seconds later, the door closed, and the train pulled away from the station. "Do you see anything?" Scully whispered as Mulder glanced out the window. "Can't tell." She silently glanced at him, unwilling to ask the next question. He still answered. "No. He's still alive." They rode in silence to the next two stops. Scully finally glanced at him. "You said there was help in Brooklyn." Mulder took a seat opposite hers. "Marty." Brooklyn 10:13 pm Scully glanced up at the worn-down warehouse, noting the dilapidated appearance and noting it looked exactly like the hiding place for the likes of Martin Mulder. She had actually met him, once at the funeral for Mulder's father during the Digital Tape incident, later at an opening at the National Gallery. Mulder's cousin came from the father's side of the family, a younger brother that went into business where Mulder's father went into politics. The wealth allowed Martin to explore a more bohemian lifestyle, for which his parents willingly paid. Whereas Mulder needed scholarships to travel abroad, Martin traveled by allowance. Where Mulder pursued degrees and a demanding profession, Martin painted more for amusement than for money. They had actually traveled together to England, Mulder mentioned as they rode the subway lines, dodging this way and that to deter the Hunter's pursuit. With Mulder attending Oxford, Marty spent time studying art and getting a few samples put on display. "He never stays too much in one place for long," Mulder noted as they left the subway station and walked down the poorly lit streets. "He had traveled back here a week before I...regained my senses. But he and I were close back in this time." "I noticed you never talked too much about him." Scully wrapped an arm around his, keeping close. "He was...from some dark times in my life. I don't talk too much about them anyway." He took a moment, glancing down at the way they were holding each other. "When my parents were divorcing, there was...well..." "He told me. At the funeral. His parents took you in while custody was being settled." He kept silent. "I know. He told me that too." He leaned in to whisper. "It's hard to talk about having either parent refuse getting custody for their remaining child." "Well, you still turned out marginally sociable, so it wasn't too bad..." "No. Uncle Theo was pretty cool. And Marty was only a year younger..." "He said you were like an older brother to him. How come you lost touch with him by the time we worked on the X-Files?" He grimaced, then tried to smile. "That would be telling..." By then, they had reached the warehouse (Theo paid the property rates and the taxes, Mulder noted) and spotted the main doorway to the first floor. "Where'd you get that?" She queried as Mulder pulled a key from his pocket. "I was gone for a week, remember?" He answered as he unlocked the door. They closed and locked the door behind them. Mulder raised one hand. "Wait here. Let me make sure everything's okay." He stumbled up the nearby stairwell as she turned and glanced at the open space surrounding her. Much of the bottom floor had been converted into a garage and storage room, boxes piled everywhere, a dust-covered car near a large sliding door at the other end of the building. She took a minute, then turned and followed Mulder upstairs. The staircase took her up an extra floor before she found Mulder standing near an open door, whispering to someone. He turned when he realized she was standing there, shrugged, then waved her over. "Come on, welcome to the Mulder family's version of the Playboy Mansion." "You wish." A youngish looking man, as tall as Mulder with the same messy hair but rounder face, stuck his head through the opening, staring in shock when he saw Scully walk out of the shadows. "Whoa." "This...is Dana Scully," Mulder nodded as he gave the introductions. "This...is Marty." "Martin. YOU wanted to be called Marty, remember?" Martin gave her the once-over. "Whew. For a sec I thought you had brought Phoebe into the country." Scully arched an eyebrow. "He knew Phoebe?" Martin arched an eyebrow right back at her. "Unfortunately, yes. Come in, please." She stepped past him, then paused. Most of the second and third floor ceilings had been cut away, letting the center of Martin's living space reach to the roof. To her left, she spotted what seemed to be the kitchen, above that a walled-off section with two doorways, and to the fourth floor an open area with one chair sitting precariously along the edge. A spiral stairwell stood to her right, rising up along slender floor areas, barely enough room for furniture but enough walkway space encircling the atrium. The view before her, through the windows which reached across that entire side of the building, showed her the entire Manhattan skyline. Between her and the windows stood a set of paintings, all unfinished, each of the skyline at various times, from sunrises to moonlit nights. "Have you ever thought about curtains?" Scully quizzed Martin. "Nope. But I have to call the police about my neighbors, they can't help but be voyeurs," he grinned. "Nearest phone?" He pointed to the far corner, near some plush sofas. She went over, but just as she got out of earshot she heard Martin whisper. "So THAT'S what's in Maryland..." "Marty..." Mulder sighed and rolled his eyes. "Like I was saying, our ride left us here..." "And now you need a ride back to Annapolis." He grinned as he glanced at Scully. "It's kinda late to cross state lines right now. Have you two thought about...staying for the night? I can always find a hotel for myself..." "Forget it. I need to get her back to her father..." "Before he kills you...I know..." "I take it you've dealt with fathers before..." "Just a few. But I'm still amazed you haven't dealt with fathers like this before..." Martin snapped his fingers. "By the way, that friend of yours, the one into electronics, he called this morning looking for you. Told him you had headed back to Maryland..." "What did he say?" "Not much. Just whistled and said `Lucky bastard.'" He nodded to Scully as she finished her phone conversation. "I can see why." "It's not what you think..." "What, that you, someone who spent his whole brief existence in college struggling to get into Oxford instead of the local sororities like the other guys, someone who suddenly hops on a plane for some Godforsaken reason just to see someone in Annapolis, is just hanging out with this rather cute redhead for some kicks?" His cousin tilted his head slightly, mockingly grinning from ear to ear. "Son, I know you're a Boy Scout most of the time, there is no way I can think otherwise regarding you and her." "She's a friend." "I hope so." Martin turned and smiled as Scully approached them. "I hope your phone call straightened out any of your problems." "Well, most of them. Mom's grateful that I called..." "Any word on Bill?" Mulder leaned past Martin. "Of course. He called already, told my parents that we ran off and left him all alone..." "Did you tell them about the punk girl?" "Yup. So far, they believe me more than they believe him." "Good. I hope your dad strings him up instead of me..." "Not yet. You still have to get me to church by the morning." "Is Bill coming to get us?" Scully shook her head. "Already headed home." Martin sighed. "So it looks like I've got some driving to do." He pointed to the stairwell. "Give me a moment. I'm going to have to clean up, change into a more appropriate attire, sober up, et cetera et cetera." She watched as he pulled over his hair, patting it down. It looked as though they had caught him in the early stages of his slumber, although the paint stains on his grey shirt said something else. She noticed a glimmer of something on his hand, but she didn't fully see it. "Hopefully, when we get back to Annapolis, I might find a way of contacting Deep Throat, find out why the Hunter's chasing us tonight," Mulder whispered as they both stepped into the spacious chamber. A quick knock at the door caught their attention. As Scully turned to Mulder and moved away from the door, she saw Marty race up the stairs. Outside, the windows rattled, a bright light falling into the atrium, rising across the nearby rooftops. Then the door shattered, and all hell broke loose. TO BE CONTINUED (Yeah, I know how long that'll take...) Part VIII- "Yes" will be as soon as I can organize my thoughts...and you all know how long it took the LAST time that happened...sheesh... --------------1D460F672C08FD5AEB50481C-- From: Paul Wartenberg Date: Sat, 09 Jan 1999 15:00:50 -0500 Subject: Submission: Life While They Live It pt.8 - Yes This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --------------FB8FF379640E600B15188707 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hi. Here is pt.8 -- Paul Wartenberg village6@gate.net http://members.icanect.net/~village6 ...you will know me as a rogue librarian... --------------FB8FF379640E600B15188707 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; name="life8.txt" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Disposition: inline; filename="life8.txt" Life While They Live It Part VIII- Yes by. Paul Wartenberg COPYRIGHT: Once again, let me state for the record that I am poor. I am not making money off this. Mulder, Scully, and additional characters are owned by Chris Carter and Co., and I hope they know that it would be very nice if they didn't sue me for this. RATING: Romance, but nothing naughty. There is vulgarity, but it's Scully saying most of it so we're cool about it, right?...oh, and hopefully a good-sized serving of humor (at least it was funny when I wrote it...) ;-) SUMMARY: Post-Gethsemane. What if Mulder DID commit suicide? What if Scully's cancer was incurable? I know, I know, that doesn't jibe with Redux, Redux II and most of season 5. Then what could possibly explain why Scully is back in high school?... I thank you God for most this amazing day/ For the leaping greenly spirits of trees/ And a blue true dream of sky; and for everything/ Which is natural Which is infinite Which is Yes... - XAIPE no. 65, e. e. cummings Brooklyn April 10, 1982 Night The searchlight from the helicopter shone through the windows as the door shattered, the Hunter calmly passing through the wreckage like wading through water. Scully turned her attention away from the intruder toward Mulder's cousin. Marty had continued up the stairs to the next floor, as if he was racing toward something. "Where's he going?" Mulder stayed close to her as they slowly moved back away from the Hunter, who moved just as slowly toward them. "Well, I did warn him earlier when we were doing some field work to arm himself..." Her eyes widened. "No, Martin! Don't shoot him! Don't shoot him!" Marty turned and scowled. "What the hell you talking about? I'm a bloody pacifist!" "Oh." She stepped back a little more, keeping a hand against Mulder's arm. "Well, either way, we're not in a good situation..." The roof far above them rattled as the helicopter outside swooped above it. The shapeshifter paused long enough to glance skyward, showing no other sign of concern. He then returned his attention to his young prey. In one hand, something metallic shot out... "Why? Why are you after us?" Mulder challenged. The Hunter didn't answer. He advanced, raising his hand, the plam shining brighter in the light. Scully stepped forward. "I want a deal." "No deals." "I know your future." The Hunter paused, measuring her, considering what she said. "Yes, I see that..." "If I tell you your future, will you tell us why you're hunting us?" The shapeshifter scowled, contemplating. "You know nothing," he whispered as he took a step closer, kicking a sofa from his path. A large wooden box suddenly slammed hard into the Hunter's back. The box shattered, wooden pieces flying everywhere as oversized paintings spilled across his prone body. Scully glanced up to where Marty stood holding steady a dolly in one hand and some rope in the other. "Oh, I knew someone was getting something heavy to toss on you..." she whispered in reply. "Can we run now?" Marty shouted down as the noise of the overhead copter overwhelmed the converted warehouse. "We're going to have to. That's bound to be a back-up squad," Mulder answered as he and Scully stepped around the sofa and past the groggy Hunter. Martin bent down, grabbing the edge of the walkway above, twirling about in an acrobatic stunt to reach the main floor. He landed ungraciously but remained on both feet, waiting for them to get close. "Projectile art. Might be a market for it, you know..." "Move," his cousin hissed, grabbing by the elbow as he and Scully sped toward the ripped entranceway. "We need to get to your car..." Two shadows moved past the outside foyer, positioning themselves in the path of the stairwell down to the garage. "Freeze! FBI!" Mulder and Scully stood absolutely still. "Who? Us?" They stuttered in unison. Martin simply crouched out of the way. From behind, Mulder heard the noise of furniture scraping against the floor. He glanced back, watching as the Hunter rose from this minor distraction and turned toward the activity at the door. A figure dressed in SWAT fatigues of the FBI jumped through the doorway, rifle raised at the target present in the middle of the atrium. "We said freeze! Drop that stiletto! Raise your hands!" "Don't shoot!" Mulder hissed through his teeth, hoping the SWAT agent would hear. "He's dangerous. His blo... He's carrying toxins on him..." The Hunter scowled, waiting for the agent to open fire. When it seemed there would be no demonstration of firepower, the shapeshifter cooly turned away, and with some long strides and a hefty leap he smashed through the windows panes, falling away to the ground outside, fading into the night. "Dammit," Martin whispered in his crouched stance as more FBI agents poured into the room. "With all this damage, there's no way to keep the doves out now..." Scully watched as agents came in two at a time, scanning the atrium for further activity, noting the cold glances they passed in her direction, having already been determined as no threat and of no interest. She understood. They had a job to do: uncover the situation and resolve the crisis. She glanced up at the FBI agent following the lead of his junior officers through the damaged door, and failed to keep her surprise in check. "Skinner?" Section Chief Skinner stared down at the young woman. "And who might you be?" "Oh," Mulder answered hurriedly. "This is Dana Scully. She's a...friend." The section chief glared at both of them, then moved past them toward the new opening in the windows across the room. "And who was that, Mr. Mulder, another friend? Or was he the pizza boy?" "Oh my God," she whispered to Mulder. "He's got hair..." He turned, and she worried he might have overheard. "I'm curious as to how you could recognize me, Miss...Scully, am I right?..." She grimaced, unable to think of a plausible excuse. Skinner scowled, waiting for an answer, and when none appeared he turned away. Nodding to one of his junior agents, he waited as the SWAT troops quickly and quietly hurried out of the room and into the stairwell leading down to the garage. "Mr. Mulder, if I could speak with you." Mulder nodded slowly. "Yes, sir." He turned, scowling again at both Scully and Martin. "Alone." "Sir, this is my cousin. She's...my friend. They already know what I told you. You can trust them." The section chief stopped scowling, waiting for Martin to stand upright before talking. "It seems you've asked to open up a cold case someone wants stuck in cold storage, Mr. Mulder." Mulder glanced at Scully, both of them doing their best not to overreact to the news. "My sister's file?" "Gone." Skinner stepped closer, lowering his voice to a snarled whisper. "I had the hardest time even finding out who was last working on it, and the paperwork on it just up and...vanished. The more I looked for it, the more denials I got." Mulder was tempted to mutter "Typical," but decided to nod quietly. "So then I decided to locate those files you mentioned." Scully glanced briefly at her partner. His glance back at her shared her realization that this explained the Hunter's presence. "So I take it you found the X-Files," Mulder nodded to the section chief. "Which explains why you're here..." "You're damned right." "What did those files tell you then?" "I can't tell you that." Mulder's face dropped slightly in shock. "Why not?" Skinner scowled as only he could. "Because those precious X-Files you were so intent on my finding went up in smoke five minutes after I located them in the basement." Scully's reaction surprised even herself. "Oh, my God..." "So you see what you've done here, Mr. Mulder?" Skinner's voice remained low but the snarl cut through. "You've stirred up a shitstorm. Someone who had buried this all is now making damn sure none of it sees the light of day. And the worst part is, this is all on the inside. Within the Bureau itself. My God, I can barely trust my own people right now!" Mulder glanced down, knowing there would have been a reaction, but he hadn't counted on it being this severe, this quickly... "Sir," he tried to sound reassuring. "You can trust us." Skinner barely arched an eyebrow at that, taking a moment to measure the young people standing across the room. "This isn't the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, Mr. Mulder. This is the FBI..." "But that's why you're here, isn't it?" Scully replied. "You kept tabs on where Mulder was, because he knew about the X-Files and wanted them found. That's why you followed us with a SWAT team, knowing he'd be a target for whomever destroyed the files." Without glancing down, she reached out with one hand to Mulder's, interlacing her fingers with his. "You can trust us, sir." Skinner noticed the hands, then stared back at the young woman before glancing at the two young men. Martin raised both hands, feigning shock. "Don't look at me. I'm not holding any hands." The section chief rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I came here, needing to know what you know, Mr. Mulder..." "I think that's where I come in," Mulder's cousin interrupted. "I've got something...some work Mulder had done. Wait a sec." They waited as he hurried up the stairs. "How did you find us, sir?" Mulder asked. "It was rather hard. The hotel where you were staying had informed me you had moved out..." "Oh, he's staying with my family now, sir..." "I...see." Skinner took a moment, then continued. "For some reason, I got an anonymous call today, that you would be in New York tonight and that the people responsible for destroying those X-Files of yours would try to kill you." "Deep Throat," Mulder whispered to Scully. "How did he know we'd be in New York?" Scully hissed back. They turned, noting Skinner had resumed scowling. Mulder knew the section chief wasn't in the mood for more secrets to be kept from him. "I...know of someone connected to...the people we're up against. He doesn't tell us much, but he does...keep an eye out for us." "Well, this...Deep Throat of yours needs to provide a few more things than tips. I'm dealing with an inter-office conspiracy here to cover up a kidnapping, destruction of evidence..." "It's...bigger than the FBI, sir..." "I thought as much." Skinner looked up, spotting Martin coming down from the upper ledge with some folders in hand. "But still, I need to clean house before I can worry about that..." "Here it is," Martin grinned, lifting up the folders and waving them a bit. "Weird stuff, train timetables, missing persons from Pennsylvania..." "I think Section Chief Skinner can read that for himself," Mulder hissed, taking the folders from his cousin's hands and offering them over to Skinner. Skinner flipped through the first few sheets, turning away as he focused on the data, giving Scully a chance to turn to Mulder. "What did you find?" Mulder shrugged, putting on a stoic face. "I went to Allentown. Those other women, I...did some checking, cross-referenced some things with train routes, did some surveillance on some of the people we knew were involved with y...their abductions..." "What's this?" Skinner had turned, holding up one folder in his hand. "Out in the Southwest? Merchandise?" "I, uh, didn't have time to get out there to dig," Mulder answered. "But there's a few train cars there buried in the desert. An experiment of...sorts. There aren't any specifics, sir, but I can assure you, it's a graveyard out there." The section chief glanced back at the folder. "You're talking genocide." He nodded solemnly. "I am." "Are you suggesting..." Skinner took a moment, looking for the proper phrasing. "That there has been mass kidnappings, perpetuated by our own government, experiments, and termination of said experiments by mass murder?" Mulder glanced to Scully, who arched an eyebrow, hoping that he wouldn't go...too far with the explanation. He turned back and nodded. "Yes." "The...size of this project you're describing...there's nothing on file to suggest anything like that..." "There was." Skinner scowled again. "I see your point. That would explain why they're interested in silencing you." Martin stepped closer to Mulder and Scully as the section chief turned back to look over the paperwork. "Mulder, you think we ought to warn that friend of yours, Frohike?..." "He should know to keep a low profile..." "Are you sure?" Mulder paused. "Maybe we should double-check when we get back..." The sound of hands loudly closing together caught their attention. The folders were closed tightly between Skinner's palms. "Most of this, in all honesty, makes no sense, Mr. Mulder..." "It does to someone." "I know. But how the hell should I proceed with this?" "Use it to find the truth." "And in the meantime, I have to figure out what to do with you..." The section chief closed his eyes, keeping his own counsel. He opened them and stared at Scully. "You live in Annapolis." "Yes." Skinner reached for his walkie-talkie. "We're going to provide an escort home for you two. I'll see about putting protective surveillance on your home. Other than that, for now, I'll need to check up on these...new files of yours, Mr. Mulder..." Annapolis, MD April 11, 1982 Easter Sunday "What I want to know is, why did she keep asking for U2 music?" Martin kept staring at the cloudy morning sky, letting his leg kick up and down over the side of his car as he stretched over the trunk. Mulder paced back and forth in the parking lot next to Martin's car, glancing over to the church where Scully's family continued their worship. "Oh. It's a band from Ireland. Sorta punk music. She's into that right now." "Oh, I know the band," replied his cousin. "Just don't think they're all that big. One-hit wonders, if you ask me..." "Do you know how long this is going to take?" Mulder kicked his feet, scuffing the side of his shoe against the pavement. "The service, I mean..." Martin glanced over to St. Mary's, shrugging. "I dunno. Never did Catholic services. I'm sure because it's Easter they're doing extra stuff, so it's a little longer..." They had arrived in Annapolis just as the daylight broke over the still waters along the Naval Academy. Racing up to Scully's home, they found her parents impatiently waiting in the driveway, not so much for Dana as they were for Scully's cousins from Virginia. Scully did a speedy change of clothes from her nighttime fashion statement to her Sunday best, avoiding the handful of questions Melissa asked through her bedroom door and ignoring the loud barking by Buddy as he chased poor Martin back and forth outside the house. The dog just didn't seem to like the scent of Mulders for some reason... Scully stumbled down the stairs just as a car pulled up in the driveway. Some familiar faces poked out of the opening door as she and her brother Charlie stepped closer. "Ah-ha, it's the redheads," grinned the young man as his two brothers piled out from the other side of the car. She grinned and hugged her cousin Troy Viator, giving a quick nod to the older Viators Robert and Stephen. Troy was the closest of them to her in age, with Robert a full three years over Bill and Melissa and Steve only a few months before. Dark-haired like their mother, Ma Scully's older sister, they shared no other physical trait: Rob (who preferred his middle name Ethan) was short with a hawkish nose, Stephen tall, wiry, with hair always flopping over his face, Troy, almost as tall as Steve but broad-shouldered and even at the age of 17 built like a football player. Troy finished the hug and pulled back a bit, grinning from ear to ear. Glancing over to his parents, who were noisily greeting the Scully pater and mater with complaints about early morning traffic, he whispered, "So what's this about CBGB? You did the Big Apple last night?" Dana grinned wickedly. "Ya." "You always had all the fun. Wish I'd gone with you when Stephen showed you L.A. So, any buildings left standing in New York?" A figure ran quickly by them. "Unfortunately, not my apartment," gasped Martin as he tried to outpace a snarling Buddy. Stephen walked up. "Who was that?" "Oh." Charlie stood close by. "Mulder's cousin Marty." "Oh." Rob walked up. "So who's Mulder?" "That would be me," answered Mulder as he climbed down from the nearest tree. He kept an eye out for Marty and the dog as he briskly moved closer to the gathering. "A-ha," Stephen grinned, offering a handshake. "The boyfriend." "I...well, I'm not really a boy...I'm just a friend of...Dana's..." "You took her to CBGB?" Robert queried as he shook hands with him. "Well, yes..." "Then you're a boyfriend," Troy grinned. Scully rolled her eyes, elbowing Troy gently in the ribs. "Guys..." "Um, excuse me," Martin raced by, taking a moment to present himself, "but if I don't get any help here, I'll be the chopped lamb meat..." "Oh, sure." Robert leaned over at Buddy as the dog raced closer. Suddenly and viciously barking like a crazed Rottweiler, he caught poor Buddy completely by surprise. The German Shepherd stopped dead in his tracks, stepped back as Robert intensified his barking, then turned for the house and rushed inside, tail between his legs. Robert stood up with a slight, amused look on his face. He caught sight of the parental figures nearby and noted their embarrassed disapproval, but he couldn't help himself but grin. "My impersonation of an Alpha male. Dogs don't like to deal with humans that are crazier than they are..." "Is that what they taught you in the Marines?..." Scully whispered as she tapped his chest, festooned with epaulets. The older Viator winked. "Damn straight..." They waited for Bill to show, as he had to circle back to the Academy for his dress whites after the return from New York. From there, they traveled to church, with Scully's parents driving her aunt and uncle, Missy and Charlie piling in with Bill and Robert in the Viator's car, and everyone else finding room with Martin. All during the drive, Troy and Stephen pestered Mulder and Scully about their adventure to the city. Mulder glanced at her briefly, each of them quietly asking the other if they should mention the Hunter and all else relating to it. They embellished it a bit, regulating the shapeshifter to more of a persistent mugger. Martin gave them both a good eye-roll, but kept quiet. Martin and Mulder waited outside the church, while the families went in. Even Melissa joined her family: she may have changed her beliefs but this was a family event, after all. Mulder noticed the unmarked car passing by the church as they went in, recognizing FBI agents when he saw them. Skinner did seem able to provide something, after all, even though Mulder knew sooner or later the Bureau would wonder about this redirection of manpower to protect some young, spooky people... "Hmm." Martin pounded his feet against the tire of his car. "Mulder, did you notice something?" "What, Marty?" "They were wearing rings." "...I saw Robert had one. Didn't notice it on the others..." "They did." "They're just rings. Perfectly common piece of jewelry..." "For all three of them, including the teenager? Nah. I'm going to hafta check." His cousin sat up on his elbows. "I've noticed you're not wearing yours lately..." He shrugged. "Ah. I've got it with my stuff. You don't have to wear it all the time. Hell, we're not even IN London right now..." "Yeah, I know that, but considering some of the stuff you've been going through, I'd have thought you'd go back to wearing it, maybe even use a few contacts with..." "I don't want to call on them." Mulder glared back, underlying his insistence on that point. Martin nodded. "You think they're involved?" "Secrets, Marty." He turned to face the church again. "We're dealing with secrets here. If they're involved, even if they're not involved... Besides, they call on us, we can't really call on them..." "Meaning you already asked them about Samantha." Mulder refused to answer. "Mulder..." Martin sighed, leaning back against the car. "You know, that's been eating you up inside ever since I've known you. I'd always hoped you let it go, even just a bit, start trying to live a bloody normal life..." "Marty, even you admitted the shit I've been through would have driven an optimist to suicide." "Okay, okay. Still, I care for you, man, you're like a brother to me. I mean, hell, even when you dated Phoebe..." Martin took a moment to shudder. "Even then, I was damn happy you were actually keeping a social life..." "It would have ended in tears with her, you know." "I kinda knew that from Day One. I'm glad you learned it now before she ripped your heart out and served it to the dogs well-done." "Why are you bringing this up?" Martin leaned his head back. "Eh?" Mulder stood there, arms crossed. "Well, her." Martin nodded toward St. Mary's. Mulder turned to see the doors swinging open as the children rushed down the steps. They waited as members of the Scully group stumbled out into daylight. "Her. Dana." "Marty..." "Are you so willing to deny that? Deny her?" "I'm not denying her..." "Well, you're denying what she means to you..." Mulder spotted her as she stepped down the church, watching her watch him as her cousins joked between them. "I'm not denying anything. She's a friend, pretty much the one I trust the most..." "Has she told you anything?" "What?" "Have you told her anything?" "What? Told her what?" "I saw how you were holding hands." Mulder shrugged. "Friends hold hands." "She did it by pure instinct. She didn't have to force your fingers apart." Martin kept his head leaned back, staring at his cousin. "And it's your body language. The vibes the two of you share. It's more than friendship. More than that, I'm sure now you two have talked about it..." "What? How can you say that?" "Because you're not very good at denial, Mulder. Your ability to lie conflicts with your need for the truth, and this is one truth you are seriously uncomfortable with..." Mulder rubbed one hand along his eyebrows. "Look, it doesn't matter how I feel for her, it shouldn't matter, there are other things to deal with first..." "She's good for you, Mulder, and she's the best reason to start living again..." "You know," Mulder's voice sounded exasperated, "everybody's been telling me that." "Everybody's got a point." His cousin rolled off the trunk, standing as the others moved toward the parking lot. "You're wasting away, son. You've let the shadows dig into you, eating away your life while you curse the Fates, when the best revenge even against Fate is to live well." Mulder scowled. "If you can say that, then maybe you don't know me that well." Martin's eyes lit up, understanding. "Ah." Mulder glanced away, noting Scully had turned away to talk with that friend of hers, Sylvia, about something. "Don't read anything into that. Just let it go." "It's too late." Martin leaned in, whispering. "Dammit, you're afraid. And you can't hide it. Not of her, but for her. And you of all people, mister I-Can't-Wait-To-Be-A-Shrink, should know fear makes for a terrible shield." Mulder pulled back, glaring, but changed his expression as Scully walked up. "Sorry it took so long, Mulder." "No, that's okay, Scully, it gave me a chance to re-learn hopscotch..." He grinned as they walked off to some shade, looking to talk a bit in private. Martin shook his head at them while Melissa quietly moved up behind him. "So, you can see the relationship between them too..." "Yeah..." Martin scowled. "Pretty easy to see, ain't it?" "Well, I am psychic," Scully's sister grinned ever so slightly. Mulder's cousin gave her a slow look, but finally nodded. "Okay. I can dig it." Scully residence Evening The rest of the day went well, by Scully's standards. Then again, she mused, it seemed the bigger the family gathering the easier it was to enjoy...or at least hide from prying eyes... Bill and Robert had spent most of their time complaining about Navy's football team and arguing over which of them were in the worst branch of the military. Stephen had snuck his guitar across state lines, much to Ahab's chagrin, and went off with Missy to show her a few new chords. Charlie kept disappearing into his bedroom whenever he could, and Ma Scully kept dragging him out to entertain her sister and brother-in-law. Martin had stayed, since the FBI had cordoned off his place for evidence, and had spent it haranguing Troy about the family and a few other, obscure things that Scully couldn't quite make out. Mulder, like Charlie, did his best to disappear, and Scully found him down in the basement, lying back on the bed, catching up on his sleep. "Busy day?" she smirked as she finished heading down the stairs. "And busy night," he grinned, keeping his eyes closed. She sighed and fell onto the bed next to him. Startled, he tried to sit up, but she reached an arm out to stop him. "Relax, Mulder. My parents are right upstairs..." "...and your mom will sense danger, right?" "No, my dad." "Oh. That's right." "Just lie there." Scully stretched out along the bed, feeling Mulder relax, just slightly, against her. They both stared at the ceiling, listening to the noise above, keeping track of who said what and how loud that guitar got before Captain Scully registered his displeasure. "Well, that's my family," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Extended family, at least..." "They'll be looking for you soon..." "Give us time. Dinner's still cooking, and it'll take another hour I think..." Footsteps echoed down the stairway. Mulder sat up quickly, looking for the best way to jump off the bed. He sighed with relief when he saw Martin leading the way down with Troy close behind. "Mulder? Oh..." Martin paused for a second, spotting Scully where she was, but nodded in reply. "Mulder. Where you got it?" "Got what?" Mulder scowled for a second. "Oh. That. It's in with my doc kit." "I'll get it," his cousin answered, bending over and rifling through the things over in the far corner. "Ah. This bag." Scully leaned up to watch Martin open the bag, pulling out a small box. He flipped it open, pulling out a plain, gold ring. Troy took it from him, glancing on the inside of it. "Yeah, you're right," Scully's cousin whistled. "Boy, they'll let anybody in these days..." "Hey, we EARNED it," Martin growled. "You got in on your dad's gene pool..." "Well, so it goes," Troy mused, handing the ring back. "Et in Arcadia Ego..." Martin placed the ring back in the box and tossed the doc kit onto the nearest table. He offered his hand, where Scully spotted a similar ring, as he shook hands with Troy. "I Tego Dei Arcana." "All right then." Troy pointed to Mulder. "Should I perform the greeting with him now?" "Nah, he's busy." Martin grinned and headed for the stairs. "You can do it after dinner." "Troy," Scully interrupted. "What the Hell was that?!" "Oh, that would be telling," he grinned as he followed Martin up the stairs. Scully turned to face Mulder, who simply shrugged in reply. She narrowed her eyes. "Mulder, are you keeping a secret?" "Well, there IS the identity of the guy who delivers roses to Poe's gravesite..." "Mulder..." He shook his head and leaned back against the bed. "It would be telling. Later. I promise." She growled and fell back against him. "Too much weirdness." "Since Day One." "Damn right." "Scully..." "Yeah, Mulder?" "Did you know everybody's been lecturing me about you?" "Well, I'm sure Missy's brought it up..." "Marty did too..." She turned her head, placing a hand against his, letting the finger intertwine like always. "What did he say?" "That I need to get a life..." "And what do I have to do with you getting a life?" "Scully?" "Yeah, Mulder?" "Is it all right if I take you to the prom?" She leaned up, resting on her elbow as she stared at him, noting the slight wry smile on his face, wondering if he was serious or if he was testing her again... She smiled back, taking a moment to gauge his response, noting his smile had faded, not to a serious facade but a worried, almost hopeful one. "Has Sylvia bugged you about that again after church today?" "No." He breathed in deeply, taking a moment. "I...had thought about asking you...before, but I wasn't too sure at the time and..." "Mulder?" "Yes?" He looked up at her, worried even though he knew he shouldn't be, wondering if he had stepped too far on this matter, noting that it just doesn't seem to work out right and... And she answered, "Yes..." Now the ears of my ears awake/ and now the eyes of my eyes are opened - XAIPE no. 65, e. e. cummings TO BE CONTINUED (Yeah, I know how long that'll take...) Part IX- "Heavy Reckoning" will be as soon as I can organize my thoughts...and you all know how long it took the LAST time that happened...sheesh... --------------FB8FF379640E600B15188707-- From: Paul Wartenberg Date: Sat, 09 Jan 1999 15:02:11 -0500 Subject: Submission: Life While They Live It pt.9 - Heavy Reckoning This is a multi-part message in MIME format. --------------66D65CDBDA3BAD64E2FD88DE Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Hi. Here is pt.9. Thank you! :-) -- Paul Wartenberg village6@icanect.net http://members.icanect.net/~village6 ...you will know me as a rogue librarian... --------------66D65CDBDA3BAD64E2FD88DE Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; name="life9.txt" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Disposition: inline; filename="life9.txt" Life While They Live It Part IX- Heavy Reckoning by. Paul Wartenberg COPYRIGHT: Once again, let me state for the record that I am poor. I am not making money off this. Mulder, Scully, and additional characters are owned by Chris Carter and Co., and I hope they know that it would be very nice if they didn't sue me for this. RATING: Romance, but nothing naughty. There is vulgarity, but it's Scully saying most of it so we're cool about it, right?...oh, and hopefully a good-sized serving of humor (at least it was funny when I wrote it...) ;-) SUMMARY: Post-Gethsemane. What if Mulder DID commit suicide? What if Scully's cancer was incurable? I know, I know, that doesn't jibe with Redux, Redux II and most of season 5. Then what could possibly explain why Scully is back in high school?... Williams: But if the cause be not good, the king himself hath a heavy reckoning to make...I am afeard there are few die well that die in a battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything, when blood is their argument?... - Henry V, Act IV Scene 1, William Shakespeare April 11, 1982 Philadelphia, along the Delaware River Before dawn The First Elder waited patiently on his yacht, sipping his coffee as two of his underlings worked in hushed tones over paperwork just received from New Mexico. He could afford to be patient, having spent his youthful years spying for the Americans by just sitting, waiting, watching. After his arrival to the States, he quietly working his way through the ranks, proving his value with stoicism and the judicious use of swift action. He entered the Inner Circle still waiting and watching, even when he watched some of the others within the Committee abuse their positions, falling prey to weakness as others were wont to do. He would wait, of course, until he had seen enough, and by then he would know the most efficient, the most silent means of removing his rivals. Being First Elder is never a gift, it is always earned, especially through the bodies of your enemies and friends. He sipped some more from his cup. A third underling entered the room, stepping quickly to whisper a report to the Elder. He nodded and quietly ordered the yacht to leave port and head down river. He turned to the other workers and silently nodded to them, indicating they should leave. They promptly put aside their work and hurried out. Sunlight crept through the windows, dawn turning the distant sky orange, faint blue clouds hovering along the horizon. He watched for a second and turned away as a fourth figure entered the room. The Hunter, scowling, lumbered into the room, his prodigious frame nearly filling the tiny space. He stood before the Elder, waiting to see if he wanted to speak first. When it became apparent the Elder wanted a report, the Hunter spoke. "They escaped me." "I heard." The Elder did not look at him, staring instead at the cup in his hands. "The FBI arrived. There would have been too many questions." "It could not be helped." The Elder sighed. "Someone moved against my wishes. The files have been destroyed instead of retrieved. The move was too loudly announced. Now there are those in position who know just enough to be suspicious, to be dangerous." "And killing two teenagers would not have gotten noticed?" The Hunter knew that sometimes it was best not to ask the Elders. But he needed to know. The Elder glared at him, but only for a moment. "You know what they are, what they represent. I have never approved of the project involving this boy Mulder. And that he is bringing others like that girl into all of this. I do not like wild cards in this...game." "They are more than that." He placed the coffee cup to one side. "Explain." "I have sensed...they are different. They are...aware of the future." "How?" "They are from the future." The voice answered from the doorway. The two turned to see the Smoking Man calmly enter the room. The First Elder remained seated. Even though his associate's unannounced presence was unnerving, this was his sanctuary. His men were onboard, and the Hunter's presence countered any threat. "You have proof?" The Hunter glared at CancerMan. "He is the proof." The Smoking Man smiled. The shapeshifter turned to face his superior. "I sense it in him as well. He also knows the future, and..." The Hunter paused as the third underling entered the room quietly from the hatchway leading from the bridge to this room. The First Elder now stood. "We were not informed of this...situation by you." "I have my reasons, of course." The Smoking Man took another step forward. "For want of not sounding like a fool, for starters, and I am not warmed by the thought of being made...a test subject for any projects you might scheme." "But you have knowledge..." "Yes. Of your treachery." The First Elder fell silent. This was becoming dangerous. "You tricked Mulder. Drove him to his death. You allowed the woman Scully to die when other options could have made her an...asset to the main project. They were my assignment and you interfered." "I know how my options would be," The First Elder replied calmly. "If I had felt they needed to be removed then my reasons were valid and should have been accepted as such." "Well, I didn't accept it. And so you killed me." The First Elder didn't reply. The Smoking Man turned toward the Hunter. "I take it my associate there unnerves you, doesn't he?" The shapeshifter had spent the exchange between his superiors just glaring at the third underling, who stared back with calm acceptance. The Hunter finally growled, "I should kill you right now." "I don't think you should," the third underling sighed. Then his features changed. The First Elder did his best to remain composed as the man he thought worked for him transformed into the visage of Jeremiah Smith. Smith glanced first at the Elder, then at CancerMan. He turned to face his kinsman. "Things can change. The situation doesn't have to take the same path it did before. He has an offer for you. Listen to him." The Hunter paused, only for a second. Then he slipped something into his hand. Something sharp. "No deals." A hiss emanated from Smith's hand. He raised it show a matching plam in his grasp. "It doesn't have to be this way..." The Hunter didn't listen. He charged, knowing full well Smith held the tool of his destruction. But he recognized Smith as a simple cataloger. He was no fighter. Smith changed his shape again, this time taking an identical form as the Hunter. He slammed his empty fist into the Hunter's body. They grappled, twisting within each other's grasp to keep their necks from being exposed at the wrong angle. They stumbled across the room, knocking into the wall, denting it. They slammed again against the wall, punching through, falling into the water. The First Elder stayed next to his chair, watching it all. He heard the sound of the rushing river outside before he heard the click of a gun's hammer sliding into place. Turning, he looked straight into the face of his somber associate as the Smoking Man aimed at the First Elder. "I take it no deals." "Not for you." "Strughold will never allow this..." "Just as he never allowed your...removal of Arden. As long as his project proceeds to his liking, all of us are expendable in his eyes." "Do you think you can win? With the help of that...cataloger?" "He was useful only for now. My bishop against your rook. I have others." The First Elder glowered at him. "Your obsession with this boy will be your undoing. It would explain why I would have you killed the last time." "Perhaps. But this time I will be prepared. And it will not be your decision to make." "You think you will improve your standing with the Committee, you think you might somehow improve things if you were in command," the First Elder answered. "This is just vengeance you are seeking. You don't have to do this." "But I do. Even if the heavens fall." The Smoking Man pulled the trigger. "Some things must change." Scully Residence Two minutes before Easter dinner Martin glanced about the house, wondering where his cousin Fox could have gotten himself. They had spotted him earlier with his friend Dana in the basement, but Troy had just checked that room. Dana was now with her mother, helping with the dinner. Bill and Robert were messing about in the backyard, and Stephen was still showing off his guitar playing, this time to an attentive Charles on the stairs leading upstairs. Melissa poked her head through the kitchen doorway. "Martin, right?" "Yeah." "Mom says dinner's in about another minute. Round up the others, okay?" "I'm trying right now. But I can't spot Mulder anywhere." "Try the closet under the stairs." He arched an eyebrow, then turned and knocked at the closet door. The knob didn't turn, locked from within. A muffled "Not hungry" answered his efforts. Martin glanced upward. "Uh, you guys have a key?" Charles disappeared for a second, then reappeared, handing something to his cousin. Stephen came down, twirling a q-tip in his fingers, pulling the cotton off one end. He stuck it into the small hole in the middle of the knob, pushing it in as he turned the handle. It clicked, and he swung the door open. "Nobody here but us dust bunnies." Mulder sat under the coats, nicely curled up in a fetal position. Martin and Stephen glanced at each other before seizing him and dragging him into the foyer. "C'mon, Mulder. We've got food and gossip for you," his cousin mumbled. He stood, shaking off the two. "Not now." "What happened?" Martin glanced him over. "You look miserable." "You were talking with Dana, right?" Troy appeared, walking up from the basement. "Oh, God, you guys didn't...?" "Yeah, we did," sighed Mulder. "What, you argued with her?" his cousin growled under his breath. "I asked her to the prom," he stated flatly. The guys standing around Mulder glanced at each other, sharing a similar thought. Charles was the one who finally stated it. "And that's a BAD thing?!" "Jesus," growled Troy. "Just let us think it's something horrific, why don't you?...Man, next time we see you tying a noose we'll assume you just asked for her hand in marriage..." "Guys..." Mulder rolled his eyes, trying to find the words to express this properly. "Charles!" Mrs. Scully called from the kitchen. "Go get your brother and your cousin from the yard! We're sitting in!" "I miss all the fun stuff," he muttered as he rushed to the back of the house. "All right," Stephen whispered to Mulder. "Now why is asking Dana to the prom a bad thing? You can afford the tux, ya?..." "No, I can afford the prom. It's not that...it's..." "Suddenly overwhelming?" Marty finished. Mulder tapped him on the shoulder. "That's it. Yeah. I just...I'm getting the feeling I just made a bone-headed decision..." "Well, I take it she said yes..." "Well..." "...So if it's not bothering her why is it bothering you?" "Because it's wrong!" Mulder hissed. "This isn't..." He stopped, knowing he couldn't explain to any satisfaction how he and Scully met in the future, which now seemed almost another country. He couldn't explain how important she was to him, not as a lover even though there were times... No. Scully was his partner, no more no less, the only one he could trust...not love... "Idiot." Martin tapped him back on his shoulder, a little harder this time. "Everything about this situation, you being here, her being so close, it all being so damned obvious. I've told you that already. Why are you fighting this?" "Because taking her to the prom could change absolutely everything I've ever known. My God," Mulder groaned, rubbing both sides of his head. "What have I done? What have I done?" "You've come to your senses," noted his cousin. "You've gained some level of enlightenment," opined Troy. "You've snagged yourself a girlfriend," added Stephen. "You've gotten my dad looking for his handgun," Melissa suddenly noted from the other side of the kitchen door. "WHAT?!" All of the guys snarled at once. She poked her head through the swinging doors with a wicked grin on her face. "Just kidding." Mulder glowered at her. "Please...do...not...do...that." Melissa returned to the doorway. "Oh, by the way guys, food's on. Dad's waiting for the prayer so he can dig in." They sat at the table thus: Both fathers at the ends, with their wives sitting to their rights. Melissa sat between her mother and Bill, while Robert finished off that side of the table. Stephen sat next to his mom, with Mulder next to him and Dana between him and her father. Troy, Marty, and Charles sat at the kids table complaining about Buddy jumping all over them sniffing their servings. "Shall we pray then?" Captain Scully announced over the table. "Mister Mulder, would you do the honors?" Mulder did a quick fearful glance at Dana, who glanced back and did her best to silently encourage him to think of something. He grimaced, then clasped his hands together as he lowered his head. "Oh, Lord..." The Scullys and Viators bowed their heads. Martin kept his up. He knew his borderline- atheist cousin was about to blow it and didn't want to miss this. "Oh, Lord," Mulder found himself repeating, then shook his head and desperately thought of something, ANYthing... "We have so many people here today asking for your blessings and forgiveness. We are gathered here...as family...and friends, looking to share our brief moments together. We, um, thank you for the bounties you have granted us, and..." He paused. Scully did a quick kick from the side, urging him not to take too long. "Um, and we hope that through our faith we will find enlightenment and truth." "Amen," Dana added. "Amen," everyone replied, raising their eyes. Except for Martin, who wordlessly mouthed at his cousin a sarcastic "You lucky bastard." Dinner conversation stayed rather light at first, with Scully's uncle asking her about her plans for college and teasing Bill about the possibility of him being assigned to submarine duty. "Six months in a tin can," was a recurring statement, from what Mulder could gather from Dana's eye-rolling. "So, Dana." Robert asked across the table. "You've got a prom coming up, right?" She glanced at her sister, then her mother, then her father. "Well, that time of year is fast approaching, Ethan..." "Robert," Scully's uncle Pomp interrupted. "His name is Robert." A quick silence passed over the table. "Well," Scully's mom spoke up. "I know that Dana and her friends were planning something earlier, with a limo service and all..." "So who do you have lined up for that?" Bill asked. He shot a glance at Mulder, spite or hate or maybe even both, before continuing the question. "There was that guy Marcus you were dating..." "Well..." "I've heard you talk about him. How cute he was and all. If you had to choose, well, got my vote..." "I broke up with him." Scully glared at him before shooting a worried look at her mother. "Aw, damn shame, I thought he was the stud of your dreams..." "William." Captain Scully did not roar, but the deepness of his voice underlined his seriousness. "Do not speak that kind of language at the table. This is family here." "Sorry, dad. I am just looking out for my little sis, that's all." He turned to his cousin. "And you, Ethan, should stop kicking my shin." "I had to, you were embarrassing your sister." Mulder tried to change the subject. "So, um, Ethan..." "Robert," his father corrected. Robert tried to keep his snarl from being heard across the table. "Dad, I keep telling you I hate that name..." The elder Scully coughed, and when he got their attention he scowled, indicating that this wasn't the time or place to argue. They nodded. "Okay, you can call me Robert..." "Robert. Are you at Annapolis too or did you sign right for the Corps?" "Shipped right in, of course. Parris Island. Twelve weeks to manhood. To hell with the Academy and those wimpy dress whites..." Bill immediately took offense. "Now hold on here, that's no way to talk at the table, dammit!..." As Mulder guessed, the argument at that end of the table would last long enough to complete dinner without any embarrassing inquisition on Bill's part. If only... "Starbuck." Mulder was close enough to hear Scully's father whisper to her. "You broke up with this Marcus fellow?..." "Daddy..." she whispered back. "Not now..." He whispered again. "So is this Mulder taking you?" She glanced away from him, staring for a moment at Mulder. Why, she thought to herself, is this so embarrassing? No, not embarrassing. She didn't want any trouble for Fox... She turned back to face her father. "Yes, Ahab. I asked him." "No, I don't think you did." He leaned back in his seat, measuring Mulder, knowing he had to hear them whispering. He leaned forward. "I know he asked you. I can see that. Very well." He spoke normally, knowing others at the table would hear. "Keep your promise, Mister Mulder." The table fell silent. He glanced at the others: Mrs. Scully beaming at her youngest daughter, Missy smirking from ear to ear, Charlie, Troy and Marty leaning up from their table across the way, Bill glaring in open anger, the Viators at the end seemingly bemused. He sighed and nodded at Dana. "I'll keep my promise, sir. She'll have a good evening." "A toast," Martin suddenly announced, standing behind Melissa's seat with his glass of tea in his hand. "A toast that our long national nightmare is over..." Everyone but Bill raised their glasses and nodded. Mulder's embarrassed look did nothing to discourage his cousin who grinned back at him wickedly. He turned when Scully touched his hand. "You'll be okay," she whispered. He couldn't help but smile back. "I hope so." "So I take it Robert hates his name, too," Mulder grinned at Scully. Dinner had ended well. The arguments continued of course, but the lamb was delicious to everyone's delight, and the Scully women's conversations on prom dresses kept them amused and the elder Scully distracted. Bill stormed off as soon as the dessert plates were collected, but the rest of the group moved to either the kitchen or the family room to harass Bill some more, except for Martin, who disappeared completely. "Yeah, I don't know why," she answered. "You know, Robert's a perfectly good name, he's got some personal reason to hate it..." "I know why." Martin stepped from the shadows of the nearby den. "Maybe we can talk now." "I don't know if we can tell her," Mulder whispered, watching his cousin whip out a Bible from the closest book shelf. "We can tell her. She is family, in a way..." He offered the Bible toward her. "Do you swear?" She placed her hand on the book. They all turned when someone stepped through the kitchen door, but it was Troy, who quickly nodded and stood blocking the doorway. "I swear." "Do you swear by your blood, by the stone beneath you, by the sky above you?" "I do swear." "Do you swear by the first rose that pricked your finger?" "Yes." "Do you swear by the last dragon you have ever dreamt?" Scully suddenly thought of someone else she wanted to find, but that would wait. "I do." "Do you swear by all things you know to be true in your heart, in your thoughts, in your soul?" "I swear." Martin pulled the Bible away. "If we learn otherwise, there will be sorrow upon all our hearts. We will pass on word to others. They will make note of this evening for us. Troy, she falls under your protection and guidance for now." "Okay, then, so what's the big deal?" Troy moved in closer. "Guys, into the den. Close its doors." They turned on the light as Troy closed the doors. "Scully, you remember that ring I wore a few times, that first year we worked together?" "Yeah." She arched an eyebrow. "You never did tell me who that was for. Phoebe, right?" "No." Martin answered her. "That wasn't an engagement ring. Wasn't even a ring." "Then what was it?" "A key." She kept her glance on her partner. "A key? To what?" "To the Diogenes Group," Troy whispered. "A secret society of sorts." She arched both eyebrows for this one. "A secret... Mulder, you of all people, in a secret society?" "It's not what you think..." Mulder defended. "Secrets, Mulder. I thought you were against that sort of thing..." "Think about it, Dana," her cousin hissed. "Don't you even know who Diogenes was?" She took a moment. "A Greek philosopher." "A seeker of truth, as we all are." She turned to see Mulder smile slightly. "That is, after all, what I...we do..." "But it's still a secret..." "The guy at Poe's gravesite. Should I tell you now who it is every year?" Scully sighed, then smiled. "Okay. You have secrets. I'll just have to learn that..." "Mulder never told you how we got involved," Martin noted. "He probably wasn't supposed to, I take it." Scully crossed her arms. "It's okay. You don't have to. I can guess it was something you did when you were in London." Mulder nodded. "Pretty good." "Suffice to say, we did someone a favor," Marty continued. "Membership was our payment, although we don't get many favors in return..." "And how did you guys get in?" she queried, sneaking a look at her cousin. "Cuz, I'm sure you've wondered about it..." "About what?" "You've noticed how everyone in my family seems to be in alphabetical order?" Scully nodded slowly. "Yeah, there's Uncle Pomp, his brother Quentin, then Robert, then...you guys ARE in alphabetical order..." "Goes all the way back to the first Viator to these shores," Troy smiled. "Adam arrived here under another name, another past, during the French Revolution. He changed his name, profession, and he hid here, starting a family bloodline to keep a secret..." "An old secret, from what I've gathered..." Martin added. "You mean YOU two don't know what it is? I thought you were in the same society..." "Different secret, Dana," Troy whispered. "Different reasons for the society to exist. I can't specifically tell you the secret, which is passed on word for word. That falls under an entirely different oath. All I can tell you..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "All I can tell you is that it leads back to the Rennes-Le- Chateau." Scully saw Mulder's face go pale. Martin grimaced, apparently having figured this out earlier. "The Bloodline? It's real?" Mulder gasped. "I can't say anything else," he whispered. "But it's obvious you've heard about it." "You've got to tell us more..." "It's not up to me," he answered sadly. "I have to leave it to Zachary, or Zelda, or whatever the last of us will be named. Maybe then..." "What?" Scully glanced between them. "What's this Bloodline?" Troy turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. Mulder waited for him to go before glancing at his partner. "There's this guy who writes about it, Baigent, who claimed that there were documents found in the church of this small town in France..." "Rennes-Le-Chateau," Scully noted. He nodded. "The documents involved a detailed genealogy and encrypted text. Baigent and a few others claim it somehow involves a royal bloodline of sorts..." "Like that Dauphin that went missing during the Reign of Terror, right? Mulder, that's not much of a secret..." "No, the documents were older than that," Martin answered. "Different bloodline, really." "Whose bloodline?" The Mulders glanced at one another. "Mary Magdalene's," Fox whispered. Scully froze when she heard that name. She took a moment to comprehend what that meant. "Oh, My God..." "I Tego Dei Arcana," Marty whispered. "I conceal the secret of God." "Mulder, you're nuts!" He shook his head. "It's not my secret. It's your cousins'. I mean, I've read the books on it...before, you know...and even I scoffed at those theories. I'm just finding out about this myself..." "But..." She shook her head, stunned. "The Bible doesn't even mention...I mean, no one can even think of..." "The Gnostic Gospels mention it," Martin nodded in reply. "You ought to read them sometime rather than the current one. The modern Bible's been edited and re-edited, things added or omitted, so many times..." She lowered her voice so only her partner could hear. "Remember all those protests for 'The Last Temptation of Christ' movie? Even the suggestion that Jesus and Magdalene had..." "I know," Mulder whispered back. "But..." "Look," Scully interrupted, raising her voice back to a normal tone. "This is shocking, I admit, but...let's just end it right here. Okay?" "All right." Mulder nodded at his cousin. "All right?" "Yup." Scully turned and opened the door, heading back out to the family room. Mulder followed, glancing back at Marty, who waved him forward, nodding at Scully indicating he should stick with her. "Got any other secrets, Mulder?" Scully's voice faded into the distant chorus of family members. Mulder's voice trailed after hers. "Well, there IS something about the Incan lines out on the..." Martin waited for a minute, standing in the den. Troy poked his head around the corner. "Did you tell them?" "No. But you should. You told me, after all." "That was part of our deal. But I can't tell her or Fox. He's nervous about dating her as is..." "I know, if he finds out that her mom and your mom, hell, that Dana IS part of the Bloodline, he'll flip." "How do you think Dana will take it?" "From what I can tell, she'd probably deny it." "She would. Missy would buy it, though, especially about it passing only through the women," Troy nodded. "It would explain a lot in her case. It's a good thing I don't have any sisters...How soon will you keep your end of the arrangement?" "I'll fly to London tomorrow," Marty sighed. "See what I can find out. With luck, Smith will be able to help." "If not?" "I'll make sure he does, then. Or else one of the others." Marty pulled his jacket tighter. He walked slowly to the front door. "You'll say good- bye for me, then. I'll have to head back to my place for the Key." "I will. It's good meeting you." They shook hands. "It IS a damned coincidence, Fox knowing Dana..." Troy noted. "It is," Martin nodded. "I get the feeling there's been one too many coincidences involved here." "Not a good thought." "Paranoia never is." Martin turned and headed through the door. As he reached his car, he turned back with one last thought. "And tell Mulder to lighten up and enjoy the prom!" Troy waved him off. He closed the door and headed back to the family room. He watched from a distance as his family sat gathered, talking and arguing about some hideous vacation two years earlier. He noted how Dana sat close to Fox, quietly observing the others, sharing some wordless secret by glancing at each other when they felt no one would notice. He smiled, heading for the kitchen for a glass of water. What he had to tell would wait. Chesapeake City At the mouth of the Chesapeake/Delaware Canal Same time The damaged yacht sat against the rocks as the helicopter light overhead turned darkness into a kind of daylight. The city had been deserted, the tourists huddled to the far side of the bridge passing nearby. People living along the far side of the canal stood near their quaint Mid- Atlantic homes, witnessing the spectacle and, as the Well-Manicured Man hoped as he watched them, knowing little of what went on. A familiar figure moved close to him, leaning against the yacht's handrail. "You already know whose body that is below," Deep Throat informed him. The Well-Manicured Man nodded and sighed. "This is a most alarming situation. Strughold should be informed immediately, as should the others..." "Pivonski is dead, too." Deep Throat watched his companion's chin clench tighter in response. "Two of the others are missing. Some of my people are already calling this the Easter Massacre..." A third figure moved closer. "Sir, I have to report..." Deep Throat nodded. "Go ahead." The man known as X handed over some papers. "Nothing was taken. All compartments were checked for secret hiding places. Classified documents are now within your hands, sir." "What evidence was found?" "Some fingerprints, mostly of the staff. All of them are dead by the same means." The Well-Manicured Man answered. "The plam. I saw." Deep Throat turned and glanced downstream. "All calls to our...enforcer has gone unanswered. If he was here..." "The Hunter worked for him. He would never have betrayed the Elder like this. No, this is someone else." "The Soviets?" X queried. "They wouldn't do that, not on our soil. Andropov would never allow his allies in the KGB to authorize it..." "Andropov would and he could, actually," Deep Throat replied. "But not without a reason. Right now he has none." "You know who it is," The Well-Manicured Man asked. No, stated. "Yes," he sighed. "My friend with the bad habit..." "Sir, I think I know who you mean, but there were no cigarette butts left here..." X shrugged. "Some of the evidence does indicate a hybrid was involved...perhaps someone who survived the recent purge..." "He wouldn't leave so obvious a clue, but this is his style." Deep Throat nodded. "And he has a reason..." "What would that be?" The Well-Manicured Man turned away from the view, watching the soldiers carry off two body bags from below deck. "The Mulder situation." "I see." The elderly British gentleman touched the simple gold ring around his finger. "Then I must now take direct measures in this matter." He turned to X and Deep Throat. "As the new First Elder, I want you to find our associate, your friend with the Morleys. Bring him to me. And find the Mulder boy. I must speak with him, if it can be arranged." "Speak with him?" Deep Throat asked. "He'll most likely confront you. Especially regarding his sister." "Things can be arranged. Bring me your friend first." They nodded and left. The Well-Manicured Man followed and waited along the shore as the soldiers finished their work. The captain of the retrieval team stepped forward and saluted. "All clear. All evidence removed." "Good." The British gentleman nodded. "Give the police a few minutes on board. Then get them off and tell them to end the investigation as an accident. Nothing else. Then burn the boat." The captain saluted again and turned away. The Well-Manicured Man whispered to himself. "There will be a reckoning for this, oh yes. For this, we all might have to pay..." TO BE CONTINUED (Yeah, I know how long that'll take...) Part X- "Theories and Wild Suppositions" will be as soon as I can organize my thoughts...and you all know how long it took the LAST time that happened...sheesh...