From z004799b@bcfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us Mon Oct 28 21:59:40 1996 COPYRIGHT: All characters are owned by Chris Carter, except for this one guy who makes a walk-on scene in the background midway through Act II Scene 3, but he's owned by Sheryl Martin anyway so maybe I won't use him... As I am poor please don't sue me... SUMMARY: Some time after "Unruhe", Mulder uses up some film taking pictures of Scully and they are startled by the mysterious images. I am still unfamiliar with Kelsy's rating system, so I hope she knows where this goes... If I Had a Photograph of You by. Paul Wartenberg "Mulder..." It wasn't the first time Scully used that tone of voice with her partner. "Relax, Scully," he smirked in response. "I need to use up the film." Mulder aimed his camera at Scully and snapped a picture. Scully rolled her eyes, struggling to keep from smiling so she could focus on finishing her paperwork. "Isn't that the same camera you used when you went UFO hunting over in Oregon?" "Yeah? So?" "I hate to be in the same set of negatives as little green men." She smirked, then quickly regretted it when Mulder pressed the camera button, catching her in all her sarcastic glory. "Grey, Scully, they're grey." Mulder worked his camera over to one side, pressing another button to automatically roll back the film. "After five or six encounters, you should have noticed that by now..." "Are you finished?" "Um, actually..." Mulder pulled a fresh roll of film out of his desk. "You wouldn't happen to be interested in posing for an amateur contest, would you?..." "For one of your magazines?" Scully calmly stared at him for a second, briefly flattered but eventually ticked off. "Forget it, Mulder. I'm not about to pose for photos and have juvenile delinquents drool over them..." "Aw, you're no fun anymore..." She grabbed a pile of papers and tossed them into Mulder's chest. "Finish your homework young man or I'll snitch to Skinner..." FotoStop Three days later "Any problems with the film?" Mulder tapped his keys against the counter: he had waited in line for thirty minutes while an elderly lady complained about poor pictures of her grandchildren. "Um, actually, there was, sir," the young attendant answered, tossing the pack of developed pictures onto the countertop. "Those first few photos you took turned out okay, even though, well, those were flying saucers, right?" "No," Mulder smirked. "Flying saucers usually go with flying teacups..." "Well, um anyway, there was a problem with the last two on the negatives..." Mulder pulled out the pictures, flipping through the first handful of images until her stopped at one startling image. He stared in shock, incapable of understanding how THAT could have happened... "What is this? Some sort of joke?" "No, sir, if you look at the negatives," the attendant tapped on the yellow strips of plastic. "You'll see that the couple doesn't even appear. The last slots seem to have been blank..." Mulder focused on the negatives, noting that indeed the last two possible negative images were blank. "Then how did this happen?..." "The machines worked automatically, they counted out the proper length of the film and printed the photos. That first blank spot did develop an image so at first we thought there was nothing wrong, but the second one didn't leave any image on its photo sheet. That's how we realized there was a problem with the negatives..." Mulder shoved it all into the packet. "I'll be back. I have to show this to someone first." FBI Headquarters The Basement Scully only barely noticed Mulder's anxiety as he sped through the doorway. "Mulder, there's a call from quartermaster's about our flashlights again..." "Scully, you need to see this." Mulder's tone was deadly serious as he tossed the pack of photos onto her desk. "I swear, I don't know how this happened..." Scully scowled at Mulder, then carefully opened the pack. She flipped through the images until she stopped at one she recognized. "Oh my God..." "I know," he shook his head. "I have no idea how that got there." The photo fell from Scully's hand onto the desktop. It showed Scully clasping Mulder's hand as he helped her away from a dentist's chair. In the background was the prone body of Gerry Schnauz, photos strewn about his body. They had both seen this before, when they hunted Schnauz as he stalked women in his deranged quest to purge their minds of Howlers. Photos taken in his presence revealed echoes of the future, of what he saw when he struck out against his spectral tormentors. It was unsettling to see another photograph affected in such a way, especially since Schnauz was dead. They also found very unsettling that a shadowy face was floating next to Scully's head, a spectral hand grasping her shoulder. Pendrell's Lab "This is spooky," Pendrell gasped, staring at the photo. "You just said the magic word," Mulder replied, rather seriously. "Can I see the negatives?" Mulder handed the strip to the young agent, who crossed the room to some of his equipment. "I'll try to see if we can examine the film more closely, try to develop more pictures." "Do that," Scully whispered. Mulder turned to face her. "You okay?" She shrugged, trying to keep up a brave front. "You know me, Mulder. I'll be fine." Mulder stared at her quietly for a second, then nodded, letting the moment pass. He knew her, more than she realized... They waited out in the hall while Pendrell examined the film. Mulder went back down for his basketball, which he now dribbled constantly against the far wall. The rhythms kept Scully focused, and sadly worried. She was bothered by the fact that yet another bizarre event has resurfaced in her life. It was never easy to explain how Schnauz could affect film, and now it was especially difficult. Her confrontation with him revealed his obsession with what he called Howlers, allowing it to consume his own mind while he went about destroying others. Could it be his obsession has rubbed off onto her? She dismissed that thought outright. It was his madness, not hers. But then, what if his madness was real?... Congratulations, she scowled to herself, you're officially more paranoid than Mulder... A sudden scream echoed from Pendrell's lab. Mulder bounced the ball down the hallway as both he and Scully stood at once and raced into the room. "Pendrell!" Scully gasped. Pendrell was sitting on his stool, firmly grasping a photo in his hands. "Hey, you okay?" Mulder asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Oh? Yeah, I'm...fine," the lab tech answered feebly. "I, uh, developed some more pictures from that film. It seems to be perfectly normal film, no variation of chemical content or, or anything like that." "Then what's wrong?" Scully tried to glance at the photo but Pendrell kept it at a difficult angle. "Well, it seems every time you try to make a photo, you get a different image from either of the two slots." Pendrell finally lifted the photo in his hand so they could see. "This was the last one I did." No wonder Pendrell screamed. The image was of Mulder and Scully passionately kissing each other, dressed as bride and groom. A quick trip to the FotoStop revealed no chicanery with the equipment. Mulder briefly entertained the notion this was some photographic trick by CancerMan, but Scully dismissed that: they weren't currently interfering with CancerMan's operations, and his attacks were usually on their standings within the FBI, not between each other. So they returned to the basement, where Mulder constantly flipped through each of the photos Pendrell had developed, except for one Scully kept in her possession. "I don't get it," Mulder finally snarled, exasperated. "With Schnauz dead, there should be no influence on the camera or the film. Not only that, but each time you re-develop a piece of that film a new image appears. That has never happened before..." "Good thing we're in the right business for stuff that `never happened before,'" Scully muttered. "There is a pattern, though," he tapped the pile of photos. "The ones from shot #23 seem to be negative, threatening images or either you or me being hurt or lost. Shot #24 seems to be positive, with us in social environs, celebrating Christmas, visiting with relatives..." "...Getting married..." Mulder didn't reply with a quick witticism. They glanced at each other, unable to say what needed to be said. "Maybe this is some form of hallucination," Scully shrugged. "They've tried drugging us into some psychotic state at one time or another..." "The photos wouldn't be the only things changing in our perceptions," he countered. "Maybe..." Mulder paused, trying to think this hypothesis through. Scully had to arch both eyebrows at him. "Maybe what?" "Maybe Schnauz's talent was passed on." Scully took a second to consider that, then started laughing her head off. "I'm not kidding, Scully. Have you ever considered a possibility you may have latent psychic abilities?" She took a second to catch her breath, then continued laughing. "Your mother has shown signs of it," Mulder dryly stated. Scully stopped laughing. "Mom?..." "Your sister also seemed to believe in her ability for reading thoughts. Especially yours when you...when you came back in the hospital." Scully stared at him, almost angry, almost frightened. "Missy?...Mulder, I'm sorry, I love my sister but whatever she believed..." "It's possible certain psychic talents are shared as genetic traits..." Scully shrugged, looking to counter that theory. "Mulder, if I...even if I had that trait, given the times we've dealt with other so-called psychic sources, why haven't I ever picked up on their talents? Why only Gerry's?" "It's...just a thought..." Scully sighed and tore up the photo in her hand. "Mulder, let's just forget this. One way or another, it doesn't help to know your own future..." "Are you saying this is our future?" Scully paused. "I'm saying these photos are just some weird occurence, especially after having dealt with something similar in so short a period. They may not represent anything other than..." Mulder arched an eyebrow, waiting for Scully's final answer. She smirked. "Let's just forget it. Okay?" "Okay," he answered, tearing up the other pictures. "But there goes a great idea for Halloween costumes..." Annapolis Scully's apartment Scully's dream was fitful, mostly because she decided on sleeping in her comfort chair instead of her bed. She didn't want to sleep there, because it would be warm and comfortable and too easy a place to start thinking of Mulder again... It was the chair she inherited from her father when she went to college, the same chair she slept in the night she received that call from Mom, when she...she didn't think about that too often. Her dream this time didn't involve some fantasy world as they usually do. This time, she was standing by a lake, where she and her sister would sometimes go when they needed to talk. Melissa was standing there now, dressed in those Stevie Nicks clothes of hers. She smiled at Scully, even as her little sister hugged her with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," Scully whispered, her voice echoing through her lips into the real world. "I didn't want you to die..." "Shh, Dana," Melissa kept smiling. "It's not your fault. You're not responsible for the evil some men do..." "I should have protected you..." "But that time has passed, and even now you remain my sister." "Why am I dreaming this?" Scully asked, somehow aware of this all. "I wanted to tell you something," her sister answered. "About those photos that were developed..." "Is Mulder right? Am I psychic?" "Noooo," Missy laughed. "I am. I was the one who affected the photographs. That was my spirit you saw in the first photo, my mind's eye that affected the camera." Scully's jaw dropped in shock. "What was that all about then?" "I wanted to warn you," she answered. "There are things in the future you need to know about..." "Missy, thanks but..." Scully shook her head. "You should realize the future can't be changed..." "Ah. You've talked with Clyde, then. Dana, please, understand this. The future is never what you think it is..." "And do you think being forewarned could change anything?" Scully wrapped her arms, almost disappointed. "You know how stubborn I am. Odds are I'd do the exact same things that you would warn me of..." "Always need to be right?..." Melissa smiled, knowing her sister all too well. "So you're saying the future isn't set?..." "There are always possibilities..." "Then he and I won't get married?" Scully arched only one eyebrow with that remark. Melissa's smile widened. "As you said, you're too stubborn to change things..." Scully's jaw dropped farther than it did before. "Relax." Melissa wrapped her little sister in her arms, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "The choice is still yours. It always will be your choice. Just...choose well, won't you, Dana?" "Are you leaving?" Scully's voice wavered, grief still haunting her tone. "Never," she replied. The smile stayed with Scully even as she woke, nearly falling out from the chair. Scully went to the fridge, pouring out a cup of milk and drinking it down. She remembered the dream and remembered something else. She walked to her purse, pulling out a photograph. The picture she had torn back at the office was an image of her kneeling over a wounded Mulder, blood pouring from his side, even as they both glanced over to the other end of the room at a dying CancerMan. This photo, the one she had saved, was the one of their wedding embrace. For some reason, she didn't want that destroyed. Scully sighed. She wished she had the willpower to destroy this thing, but decided to let it go for the night. She stumbled off to bed and slept the sleep of the just. Alexandria Mulder's apartment Mulder had no trouble sleeping...figuratively speaking. He still suffered that recurring nightmare, one that kept him going in both his waking and his restful moments. He kicked a leg against his futon, his body reacting to his nightmare of bright lights and lost souls. In his grip was a photo he kept, hidden from Scully's knowledge. It was an image of his partner, walking away from a burning wreckage, dragging with her a young woman with surprisingly familiar features, covered with slight scratches but otherwise healthy. It was something to help him in his sleep, a photograph that proved nothing except that maybe, just maybe... His leg kicked again, but for the first night in ages he slept the sleep of the just. The end. -- Paul Wartenberg-------------------- | -----All Done.-------- z004799b@bcfreenet.seflin.lib.fl.us | -----Bye-Bye.--------- -----Jeremiah Smith Lives---------- | -----X-FILES---------- -----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 (1950)----------------------