From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Tue, 21 Dec 1999 14:24:52 -0600
Subject: Ghost Walking 1/2 by JadedDana
Source: direct

Reply To: jadeddana@netscape.net



Ghost Walking 1 /2
By JadedDana
Jadeddana@netscape.net 

Rating: PG for language
Category: V, maybe A
Spoilers: definitely 2F/1S
Summary:  What if Jeffrey Spender didn't die 
When everyone thought he did? 
Disclaimer: They are Mr. Carter's, not mine.

****
Ghost Walking
By JadedDana
****

     This is going to drive me mad.  
     No matter where I go, he seems to follow 
me, like a lost little puppy, wagging his 
tail as if I was the best thing in the world.  
It's really quite sad, you know.  I wonder 
why I put up with him, and then he'll send 
that appealing look my way, and I wonder if I 
could do anything but put up with him.  I 
know his father's betrayal scarred him, more 
than just physically, but some days its all I 
can do not to just shake him and scream, GET 
OVER IT!!! I know, although he doesn't seem 
to realize it, that his father was really 
giving him a chance, even though it seems the 
opposite. 
     The worst part of this little snare I've 
created is that while I feel him on my heels 
every moment of the day, he's never there.  
But I know he's watching, listening, to 
everything.  I set it up that way, so he'd 
know exactly what was going on, and I 
wouldn't have to waste my breath filling him 
in.  But it's discerning, knowing that he is 
hearing everything I say.  I never even 
really liked him very much, although I won't 
say I hated him as my partner did, but its 
more than a little annoying knowing that he 
now knows the intimate details of my life.  I 
wonder why I got myself into this crazy mess.  
And then I remember how it started.
     When we walked down to the office, still 
happily shocked to have it be _our_ office 
again instead of his, we didn't notice the 
shadow just leaving as we threw the door wide 
open.  Mulder even kissed the stupid file 
cabinet and threw a huge grin my direction.  
I returned it, even as I noticed the 
unmistakable coppery stench.  I didn't even 
see the blood until I walked over to the 
desk, and there he was.  He wasn't dead yet, 
but I could tell he would be soon if we 
didn't get help.  I told Mulder to call an 
ambulance, even as I knelt in the puddle of 
blood forming a stain in the carpet to 
examine his wound.  That stain is still 
there, but you have to know where to look.  
Just like the stain in my front hall from my 
sister's blood. 
     He was still alert, which shocked me.  
Most people would have passed out, judging by 
the amount of blood that was quickly coating 
my new suit.  His mouth moved, and I leaned 
over so I could hear what he said, careful 
not to press too hard on his wound.  
"Scully.....Don't let them take me....stay 
with...." It scared me.  These were dying 
words, and I refused to have another death on 
my shoulders because I looked too deep, found 
the wrong clues.  "...I...know things, stuff 
he'll kill to protect...don't leave me 
alone..." He was amazingly rational for 
someone who's blood supply was at 1/2 and 
decreasing with a bullet imbedded somewhere 
in his stomach.  Those few words managed to 
convince me that he knew enough to bring them 
down, and they knew that too.  I couldn't 
trust the government to protect him; I'd have 
to do that myself.  And I did--I never let 
him out of my sight for nearly 40 hours.  I 
was in the room during the operation; I sat 
beside him with only the cold beeping of the 
monitor for companionship.  I have done the 
same thing for Mulder too many times, so I 
knew how to badger the medical staff into 
letting my stay where I knew I should not be.
     I had no idea what I would do once he 
woke up and got well--they'd still be after 
him.  That was too far in the future.  When I 
finally got so tired I knew I was going to 
fall asleep, I called Mulder and made him 
stay there while I napped.  I know he hates 
Spender for some reason, but he wouldn't let 
any of them come and murder him while he was 
sitting there.  
     Jeff woke up after about 40 hours.  I 
was awake and reading a magazine when I felt 
him reach out and take my hand.  "Thank 
you...for saving me."  He always has a way 
with words when he's trying.  "But we've got 
to think of something....I want to help you, 
but I can't if I'm dead, and as long as I'm 
here, I'm a target."  I knew this all too 
well.  I just didn't know what to do about 
it. 
     "You can't go anywhere for a while, 
Jeffrey--that bullet really messed up your 
intestines.  You'll survive, but you won't be 
eating for a long time.  Not to mention all 
the blood you lost."  It sounded suspiciously 
like several conversations I've had with 
Mulder. There are days when I really hate 
stubborn men.  I don't remember the first 
time I called him Jeffrey, but it was 
sometime when he was in the hospital.  His 
last name just didn't seem appropriate when 
he was lying there unconscious.  
     He just looked at me.  "Scully, if I 
stay here, I'm a dead man.  I'm not that 
sick.  If you could set me up some kind of 
safe house..." 
     "That's out of the question, and you 
know it.  You'd be a sitting duck."  I didn't 
know what to do, but an idea blossomed at the 
back of my mind and I didn't like it one bit. 
     "Well then, let me stay with Mulder.  
Hopefully I'll be marginally safer with him 
than with them, although that's not a 
certainty."  He was determined enough to do 
it, too.  But I knew one or both of them 
would be injured severely by the end of the 
week if I let them stay in the same 
apartment.  That left me with one option.
     "...Listen.  I'll get you out of here, 
but it'll take some time, and I have a few 
details I need to work out.  Ok?  And DON'T 
say ANYTHING to ANYBODY, my partner included.  
Understood?"  I didn't know whether or not I 
could tell Mulder about my plan.  So I 
figured I'd just tell him after the fact.  
Save us an argument or four.  
     When Mulder showed up to spell me, I 
left instead of napping there in the room.  I 
went to the Gunmen's, swore them to secrecy, 
and told them my plan.  They were more than 
willing to help, on the condition that they 
could interview Jeff anonymously eventually.  
Whatever--he'd probably get a kick out of 
bs'ing these guys until they'd be convinced 
WE were the aliens.  Ok, bad analogy.   Byers 
even suggested the current surveillance idea.  
I was a bit nervous about letting them into 
my apartment, but I agreed anywise.  It WAS a 
good idea.... at the time.  I'm not sure I 
feel the same now.
     We made our move 2 days later.  Right 
after the nurse was by to check on him, I got 
him up and dressed in some of Mulder's 
clothes I had smuggled into the room.  Byers 
met us outside his room, and disguised with a 
wig and long trenchcoat, we walked down into 
the parking lot, where we got into my car and 
drove off.  All the while, Langly was tapping 
into the security cameras and 'erasing' us, 
while Frohicke hacked the hospital records to 
show that Jeff had had a massive seizure and 
died.  He then left a trail that made it 
appear that an old friend of mine had 
autopsied the body and cremated it.  
Hopefully, it looked like They had been 
covering it up.  
     The plan worked brilliantly.  We got 
Jeff into my apartment, and even though he 
was looking pretty gray, he insisted on 
checking all the 'additions' to the 
guestroom.  The guys had moved in a miniature 
version of their office--several monitors 
displaying my office, my car, Mulder's 
apartment, and Skinner's office.  It also 
appeared there were quite a few tape-
recorders set up for other locations.  I now 
carry a few extra bugs in my purse.  It's 
somewhat discerning.  While they were here, 
they also swept for bugs, but apparently 
there were none.  I guess the consortium 
prefers listening to Mulder.  
     The guest room's closet was full of 
clothes that somehow (I don't want to know 
the details) the guys had 'acquired', and the 
huge bed I had in there was traded for 
smaller one that allowed space for the 
massive computer system thing.  Ever since 
then, Jeff hasn't left the apartment.  I know 
he's just aching to take a walk through the 
park, but we don't know if They're watching, 
and it's not worth the risk.  


     Since he's been around, I've discovered 
I like him a lot more than I thought I would.  
He has a good sense of humor and reasonable 
taste in entertainment, completely unlike 
Mulder.  He is overfond of watching old Star 
Trek and criticizing every line, but I can 
overlook that.  I overlook enough in Mulder.  
     I knew I'd made the right choice when I 
came home one Friday night around 10 and 
opened the door to the aroma of homemade 
lasagna.  He didn't even ask if I wanted him 
to do some of the chores, he just started 
cooking like he was born to it and kept the 
apartment cleaner than I ever did.  That 
Friday, I was able to relax and let somebody 
else mess with the chores.  And Jeff was so 
sweet, too.  He entertained me with anecdotes 
about the elderly woman next door who was 
absolutely convinced that Jeff is my live-in 
boyfriend who beat up Mulder, who she 
believes is my former live-in boyfriend.  
Then he told me the funniest stories about 
some of our worst enemies.  I bet few people 
know that Alex Krychek will do an amazing 
Elvis impression when he's drunk, or that 
Diana's natural hair color is red, or that 
the Bounty Hunter cried over Little Women.  
It's terribly funny...or maybe it was just my 
tired mind.  But no matter why, I had a 
wonderful evening, and I think Jeff did too.  
Ever since, we've been just hanging out on 
Friday nights.  We'll order a pizza, rent a 
movie, and laugh over anything amusing that 
happens to us that week.  Jeff just ADORES 
Skinner stories.  He thinks there's nothing 
funnier in the world than when the AD gets 
mad at Mulder, or me, or especially Kirsh.  
I, in turn, can't wait for the account of 
Mrs. Shrimply's suspicious glares and soap 
opera lines.  It's wonderful.  Mulder has 
picked up that I have a standing appointment 
every Friday night, but he never says 
anything.  I'm not sure if he ever will.  But 
if he calls me in the middle of a story with 
some 'proof' or something, I'm telling him to 
call back in the morning.
     Jeff has helped us like he promised, but 
the route to the truth isn't quite as easy as 
we'd all wish.  He never knew the solid 
evidence like we needed: names, dates, none 
of that was ever spoken.  What he knows are 
plans, agendas, and more importantly, the 
dynamics of the group.  They have a lot of 
division within the group; some support the 
rebels, while others think the only means to 
survive are with the colonists.  Jeff knows a 
few locations, but we haven't had a chance to 
check out but one, and it was empty.  
Hopefully the others will be intact.
     Tonight I've rented Jurassic Park.  
We've both seen it lots of times, but its 
kindof fun, especially when we start 
comparing it to different cases we've had.  
Despite the fact that he investigated little, 
Jeff read almost all of the cases that 
survived the fire.  He has an amazing memory, 
a lot like Mulder in that he can see 
something once and recall it at the oddest 
time almost word for word.  He doesn't have 
Mulder's ability to make impossible leaps of 
logic based on that evidence, but instead he 
looks for the most logical next step.  It's 
strange, but I'm noticing more and more 
similarities between the two.  I wonder if 
it's my own twisted psyche or if there really 
are amazing coincidences.  They both have 
exactly the same expression when they're 
almost done with a crossword puzzle but can't 
figure out the key word.  Mulder has the same 
look during cases a lot, too; I imagine Jeff 
looks much the same.  There are a thousand 
other minor comparisons that could be made.
     I haven't told Mulder yet that Jeff's 
not only alive, but that he's practically 
living with me.  Ok, he is living with me, 
but not in the way that phrase is usually 
meant.  I don't know how he'll react.  I'm 
just glad he hasn't shown up at my place 
unexpectedly.  He used to do that all the 
time, but ever since the cancer a few years 
ago he's been reluctant to just show up 
unannounced.  I suspect it comes back to the 
day when he came over and found me hunched 
over the sink, a pool of blood forming on the 
counter as I tried to clean up my vomit even 
as my nose bled.  I told him to just get out 
when I felt his shadow in the bathroom 
doorway, not even taking time to chastise him 
for entering my home without knocking.  He 
did, and he never showed up without calling 
beforehand again.  
     I think I must have fallen asleep about 
the same time the dinosaurs got loose, 
because the next think I remember is feeling 
Jeff shift me off his shoulder (I must have 
fallen against him when I was asleep) so he 
could reach the remote and turn off the tv, 
which now displayed credits.  He stood up, 
but I was still in that half-asleep state 
where you can receive imput but not react.  
I'm sure he was debating whether to carry me 
to my room or to just cover me with the 
afghan.  He was saved the decision when a 
loud knock startled me out of my drowsy 
state.  "Hey Scully!!" Mulder's voice called 
through the door.  That was more than enough 
to wake me up fully.

To Be Continued...

(I always wanted to say that!!:))



Ghost Walking 2/2
by JadedDana
jadeddana@netscape.net

Rating: PG 
Category: S
Spoilers: 2F/1S
Summary: see part 1.
Disclaimer:  Nobody here is mine.  They all 
belong to CC & Co. 

********
Ghost Walking 2/2
by JadedDana
********

     What the hell was I supposed to do?  I 
don't know what Mulder will do if--no, I 
suppose its when--he finds Jeff here.  I don't 
know what Jeff will do.  I know the two dislike 
each other strongly (who am I kidding? they 
hate each other!) and I really do NOT want any 
guns fired in my living room if I can help it.  
Not to mention the fact that I didn't tell 
Mulder about Jeff being alive and at my 
apartment, which to Mulder is a major betrayal.  
I don't want to deal with this right now!! I'm 
tired.  Mulder pounds on the door again, and 
now his voice has taken on a rather anxious 
tone.  "Scully?  You ok?"
     Jeff looks at me for his cue.  I almost 
told him to go hide in his room, but I'll have 
to deal with this sooner or later.  It might as 
well be sooner.  "I'm coming, Mulder....Just a 
second."  I motioned for Jeff to sit down 
again, and he did, although he was poised to 
jump up and either run or fight; I wasn't sure 
which.  I walked over to the door, running my 
fingers through my hair; hopefully looking a 
bit less disheveled than I felt.  That was NOT 
the impression Mulder needed at this point in 
time.
     I opened the door to see Mulder trying to 
balance a pizza box, a paper bag which I assume 
contained some sort of beverages, and a plastic 
sack labeled 'Blockbuster Videos'.  He was 
about to drop the pizza.  I grabbed it from him 
and he grinned.  "You feel like watching a few 
dinosaurs running around trying to eat helpless 
little genetic engineers and archeologists?"  I 
had to grin.  What are the odds we both pick 
the same movie?  Bizarre.  Behind Mulder, I can 
see Mrs. Shrimply's door open just a bit.  I 
bet she thinks this is gonna be better than 
Days of Our Lives.
     "Um, Mulder, why don't you come 
in...there's something, I've um, been meaning 
to tell you about..." I turned around and put 
the pizza in the kitchen.  I'm too chicken to 
watch his face when he sees Jeff...not that it 
wouldn't be priceless.  When I return, Mulder 
has his gun out, and Jeff's hands are up.  I 
was afraid something like this might happen.  
"Mulder, put your gun down and SIT.  Jeff's not 
going to do anything.  I'll explain in a 
second."  I walked over and closed the front 
door firmly and locked it.  We are not Mrs. 
Shrimply's private soap, despite how things may 
appear.
     She's right, Mulder; I'm not going to do 
anything.  As if I could--it takes a long time 
for bullet wounds in the stomach to heal.  As 
Dana well knows.  So sit.  Or better yet, get 
the pizza."  Mulder glared at him, but after a 
moment he holstered his gun--although I noticed 
he left it easily accessible, arranging his 
jacket so he could get it in a split-second.  I 
walked back to the kitchen, picked up the 
pizza, and put it on the coffee table, then sat 
back down on the couch next to Jeff.  I'm sure 
Mulder saw that as my siding with Jeff, but my 
only other option was the armchair, which would 
leave the two of them sitting next to each 
other.  I'd sooner let a pair of five-year olds 
sit there with crayons, markers, and lots of 
spaghetti sauce.  Mulder stared for a moment 
then sat down carefully in my armchair.  Jeff, 
with typical easygoingness combined with a 
desire to irk Mulder, I'm certain, opened the 
pizza box and took a slice.  "Mmm...Thanks, 
Mulder.  Supreme, my favorite."  I turned and 
glared at him myself.  Him getting on Mulder's 
nerves would not help right now.
     "Scully...what's going on?" Mulder's 
expression was halfway between angry, hurt, 
confused, and disappointed.  I hate that look.  
I always give in when he gets it.  He knows it, 
too.
     I took a deep breath.  "Well, Mulder, its 
not really that complicated....Jeff knows 
things about Them.  They know he knows.  When 
he was shot, we were both certain They'd have 
him killed before 24 hours had passed.  So with 
the guys' help, we got him out of the hospital 
and here, where he's been recuperating.  The 
guys went into the hospital records and did a 
decent cover-up.  I didn't tell you before 
because there was no time, and then later....I 
couldn't be sure when They wouldn't be 
listening."  No need to mention the small 
control room just behind the wall just yet.  
He'll be mad enough that I kept it from him.
     Mulder took a moment to process that, 
probably thinking back and looking at the 
foreshadowing.  He does that a lot.  Jeff just 
kept eating.  I was too nervous to do anything.  
Finally, Mulder seemed to reach some kind of 
decision.  "So....how's the wound, Spender?"  I 
sighed.  He's going to be civil.  
     "Jeff.  Now that I'm a dead man, I don't 
have to be saddled with His name anymore.  And 
its much better, actually.  I can move around 
and such....But it'll be a while before I'm 
chasing liver-eating mutants.  Especially since 
I've been cooped up in this apartment."  To my 
surprise, Mulder gives an almost-sympathetic 
grin at that.  I thought he hated him!  What is 
going on?
     "Ya...It must get pretty boring around 
here.  That old lady across the hall ever come 
snooping?  You know, she's convinced I'm a spy 
from somewhere in the Middle East who is, or 
was, dating Scully purely for information she 
can obtain from he job as a secretary at the 
FBI."  Jeff grinned at that, too.  I know Mrs. 
Shrimply doesn't realize that by working for 
the FBI, I mean an Agent for the FBI, but its 
kindof difficult to explain to her.  But WHY 
are Jeff and Mulder getting along so well 
suddenly?  I know Mulder thinks he's just a 
spineless son of a bitch, and while Jeff has 
been way to smart to say it, he thinks that 
Mulder's a wacked out loon who should be locked 
up.  Or at least, that's how they used to feel.
     "Ya, she thinks I'm some kind of reclusive 
mystery writer who is living with Dana for her 
money, and that you and I get into fights every 
other weekend over her--nevermind that I never 
leave the apartment.  That woman, sweet as she 
is, should have her tv set removed."  Now 
Mulder reached for a slice of pizza, too.  What 
is going on?  I will NEVER, EVER understand the 
male mind.
     "Ok, well, I'm glad we've got that 
settled.  You guys are welcome to stay up and 
talk or whatnot, but I'm exhausted....I think 
I'm going to bed.  Lock the door when you 
leave."  I didn't know what was going on, but 
it didn't appear there would be any bullet 
holes in my furniture tonight, so I was going 
to sleep.  Both men kindof nodded and Jeff 
switched the channel to some basketball game.  
They muttered something vaguely resembling 
"Night Scully" and "See ya tomorrow, Dana", but 
they never took their eyes off the screen.  I 
didn't even care anymore.  I went to my room, 
closed the door, quickly changed into some pj's 
and fell into bed.  I just barely remembered to 
switch off the alarm.
     From the other room, I heard voices, but 
at first I discounted it as guy-talk.  But 
after a few minutes, I heard an unmistakable 
change in Mulder's tone.  I couldn't tell what 
he was saying, but it sounded ominous.  Jeff 
said something in a similar tone, and then 
Mulder said something else.  Jeff said 
something, I think it was "No." But it could 
have been "now".  I think Mulder left then, and 
I know the tv was turned off, and then I 
drifted off to sleep.  Whatever the problem 
was, I'll deal with it tomorrow.

The End....for now....