From: SpecialAgentDana@aol.com Date: Wed, 7 Jun 2000 21:38:37 EDT Subject: Kismet (1/3) Source: direct Title - Kismet Author - Jaimee Kidder Email - SpecialAgentDana@aol.com Rating - PG-13 (for violence) Classification - XRA Spoilers - Herrenvolk/Talitha Cumi, Fight the Future, Triangle, Two Fathers/One Son, Three of a Kind Keywords - Mulder/Scully romance Summary - Mulder and Scully investigate a seemingly meaningless murder in a small farming town in Alabama and suddenly find themselves caught in the middle of events that could lead to the end. Note: I had to change the dates around a bit, so it takes place in August, but the season 6 finale hasn't happened. Sorry, no psychic Mulder here. :-) And for all you (fellow) nitpickers, I realized around page 60 that Kersh isn't even M&S's boss anymore now that they're back on the X-files, so yes, I made a boo-boo. But by then it was too late to change anything, so...it'll be okay. (won't it? of course it will) ::whirrrrr:: "I made this!" Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story. I wish I was Scully and owned Mulder, but such is not the case. If I did, this would be an episode -- or two, or five - - of the show, not some story that Chris Carter will prob'ly never read. :) The secondary characters are mine (so there!). But Mulder, Scully, and the rest are all CC's (hail to the man!), 1013's, and Fox's. Too bad for me. ;-) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Grow your tree of falsehood from a small grain of truth. Do not follow those who lie in contempt of reality. Let your lie be even more logical than the truth itself, So the weary travelers may find repose." ~Ceslaw Milosz ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ========================= 6:33 p.m. Thursday, August 12, 1999 121 Three M Lane Four Mile, Alabama ========================= "Shelly?" Robert Harris called from the porch in his Alabama drawl. "Where are ya, dear?" "What d'ya want, Rob?" Shelly Harris answered from inside the old white house. "I'm right in the middle of cookin' dinner." Rob stuck his head in the doorway, his hair slightly tousled by the late summer breeze. "I'm gonna go over to Brett's 'n pick up something I left there." "Can't it wait? You just got home...'n dinner's almost done," she asked as she walked slowly to the door where her husband was standing, slightly curious at what he needed that could be so important. He looked torn between staying and going, but then finally made up his mind and leaned closer to his wife. "This's pretty important, dear. I left all my product research information over there and I'd really like to get it done tonight. Won't be long." "'Kay, hon.' Hurry back," she murmured and gave him a loving kiss. He grinned and jogged down the porch steps to the car. Shelly smiled unconsciously as she listened to their old station wagon roll down the dirt driveway. ((He's such a good husband,)) she thought. ((And his hair's so cute when it's messy... )) She smiled at the memory and unconsciously listened for the honk of the car's horn, their little tradition that Rob had faithfully carried out since the day they were married. When she didn't hear it, she wiped her hands on her apron and headed towards to the door to see if anything was wrong. "Rob?" she called. "You there?" Just then, the horn sounded. Relieved and amused at her jumpiness, Shelly turned around to go back to her soup, then froze as realization hit her -- the horn was still blaring. Shelly jolted the burning soup off the burner and raced to the door. Peering out the screen, she spotted the car. It had swerved out of the driveway and was rapidly heading for the big oak tree in their yard. She could see Rob inside slumped over the wheel unconscious. ((Or dead...)) her mind taunted. ((He's dead, and it's your fault.)) Shelly was determined not to think about what could have happened. "Rob!" she screamed, hoping he could hear her. She leaped out the door, off the porch and took off running for the car. At that moment, the car struck the tree and smoke began to rise from the hood. Torn between going to Rob or calling paramedics, she finally decided to let professionals help her husband, charged back into the house, and snatched up the portable, running outside again as she dialed 911.... ========================= 10:21 a.m. Friday, August 13 Washington, D.C. ========================= Dana Scully looked up from the stack of papers she had been leafing through to see a smiling Fox Mulder throw the door open. "And he's late again, folks!" he announced with a flourish. "You're in a good mood, Mulder," Scully commented, not quite keeping the smile off her face. "I am. I am in a *good mood.* Take a look at that," he said, tossing the sports section of the newspaper on the desk in front of Scully. "Yankees Pitch Shutout Game Against Pirates,'" Scully read, mentally rolling her eyes. "Tell me that's not why you were late, Mulder." "Why does it matter if I was late, Scully?" Mulder said lazily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the desk. "It's not as though we've got any real cases going...it's been as quiet as a --" "Mulder, we *do* have a case. Or at least, we will. Did you forget?" she asked, seeing her partner's blank look. "We've got a meeting with A.D. Kersh in 10 minutes." "Yeah, and what's he gonna give us?" Mulder said sarcastically as he reluctantly picked up his jacket and put it back on. "More scut work? Following up big leads on a fertilizer case? I can hardly wait. Maybe I should have stayed in bed." "Yeah, yeah, yeah...let's get moving, shall we?" Scully tugged playfully at Mulder's tie. "Ooh, nice tie...I hope Kersh likes Oreos..." "Hey, it's my Friday tie...hey, Friday the thirteenth, Scully -- something big's gonna happen." Mulder teased on their way out the door. "After you, Miss Scully." "You mean like we might be on time for this meeting? That's the biggest thing I'm up for right now," Scully yawned as she ducked through the door. ========================= 10:29 a.m. Office of Assistant Director Kersh ========================= "Come in, agents," Kersh ordered as Mulder opened the door and stared warily into the office. "Have a seat." "You wanted to see us, sir?" Scully asked. "Yes, there's a case I'd like you two to take. But before I brief you on it, I want you to understand something. I'm doing you two a favor by letting you have the X-files back. But that doesn't mean every case I give you will be an X-file. I want you both to get used to the real cases again. And remember, Mulder -- I will not tolerate any more of your attempts to make the case more interesting by dragging interstellar conspiracies into it." Kersh's voice rolled commandingly as he vindictively ground the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray on the desk. "Does that mean this case is not an X-file?" Mulder asked, barely concealing his disappointment. Kersh eyed him momentarily and ignored the question. "It's a case out in Four Mile, Alabama...a small farming community near Jacksonville. Looked simple enough at first -- a guy turns suicidal and rams his car into a tree. But as it turns out, he may have been murdered. Police found..." Kersh paused in his mechanical lecture to leaf through a few papers on his desk, then found what he was looking for, and continued, "...a small puncture mark on the side of his neck." Mulder cocked an eyebrow at Scully. She gave him a long look and then turned back to Kersh. "They think he was drugged and passed out, making him ram his car into the tree. Anyway, that's about it. See what you can find -- and don't blame it on aliens, Agent Mulder. That will not be a satisfactory explanation this time. You hear me?" Mulder got up and bowed, then turned a smirking face to Scully who gave him the Look and led him out. "Someone wants to drug some guy in a teeny town out in Alabama? Yeah right, and he says this isn't an X-file." Mulder proclaimed. Scully stopped walking and turned him to face her. "This time I might agree with you," she said softly, looking into his eyes. Mulder raised his eyebrows. "Let's walk while we talk," he muttered, aware of more than a few stares from the desks around them. "When the Lone Gunmen...uh...asked me to come out to Las Vegas...this looks exactly like what I saw there. People drugged -- with marks on the neck like this man in Alabama -- with a formula that made them highly suggestible. One man was ordered to kill himself and jumped in front of a bus." Mulder nodded, familiar with the case from Scully's report. "You think this is the same thing you saw in Nevada?" She looked doubtful. "It...looks like the same scenario, but the question is, why this man? Why Alabama? The drug worked fine in Nevada, so why would they need more tests?" Mulder raised his eyebrows. "Looks like we're going to Alabama." ========================= Saturday, August 14 Four Mile, Alabama 6:20 p.m. ========================= The two arrived at the scene to find squad cars and yellow crime scene tape littering a huge yard and dirt driveway. An old brown station wagon was accordioned into a big oak tree a few yards from the driveway. Police wandered around the property with small spiral notepads and stubby pencils, taking notes and looking somewhat out of their league. The agents were silent for a moment, surveying the scene, and then Mulder spoke. "Scully, why don't you go in and talk to...uh...Mrs. Harris. I'll see what I can find out from the police." She nodded and they slid out of the car. Mulder looked for the nearest police officer as Scully ducked through a group of men in blue and rang the doorbell at the old white house. He could hear her calling through the screen door. "Mrs. Harris? Mrs. Harris, I'm from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Can I please speak with you?" "Yeah," a female voice answered despondently from inside the house. Turning his attention to the officer a few yards away, Mulder walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder, holding up his ID in the other hand. "Sir? Special Agent Mulder. Can you tell me what happened?" "Really couldn't tell ya," the officer drawled. "First, looks like he passed out and smashed into this tree here, then we find a mark on his neck that might've had somethin' to do with it...I don't know what t' make of it all. We don't have too many...uh...incidents like this out here. Just hard for me to get used to." "This mark on his neck -- can I see it?" "Body's already been taken to the morgue." "What did it look like?" Mulder's voice held a trace of frustration. "Pretty tiny. The only reason the paramedics noticed it was because his head was bent forward onto the steerin' wheel, exposin' his neck...and there was a little bit of swelling around the area. Looked to me like it could've been made with maybe a really small needle. Then again, maybe it was suicide 'n this is just a bug bite...we really don't know." Mulder nodded. "Did the paramedics determine a cause of death?" "Well, Mrs. Harris told the 911 operator that she found him dead in the car when she ran out to him, and our paramedics could confirm that he was dead. But they didn't know what caused it -- he looked perfectly fine...just like he fell asleep in the car." "You find any other evidence?" "We did find this..." The officer held out an evidence bag containing a small rounded disc. "Looks like a...a top that you screw onto a container...where'd you find it?" The officer pointed back down the long dusty driveway. "Down there a ways, sitting on the dirt. Couldn'ta been there too long 'cause it hadn't gotten all dusty like the rest of this place," he finished, looking fairly pleased with this revelation. "Sure it didn't come from the Harris's trash?" "Mrs. Harris said she ain't never seen nothin' like this before." Mulder examined the disc again. It was made of thick, glossy white metal. The inside rim had spiral grooves running around the inside, indicating that it was a lid to something. He handed the bag back to the officer. "No fingerprints?" "Nope." Mulder sighed and shoved his hands back into his pockets, appraising the scene again. "Thanks again, Officer...?" "Kelley, Jake Kelley." "Thanks, Officer Kelley," Mulder said automatically, handing him his card. "Call me if you turn anything else up." He walked over to the crumpled car and crouched down to inspect the tires and tire marks. Not seeing anything of interest, he glanced up to see Scully walking from the house to where he was. He stood. "How is she?" "She'll be okay," Scully said quietly. "Anything?" "The body's already been taken to the morgue, so I didn't get a look at the mark on his neck, but Officer Kelley over there said it could've been made with a very small needle. The only other thing the police have found is this white metal cap to some container. No fingerprints, nothing. Mrs. Harris had never seen it before. What did she tell you?" Mulder asked, sounding disgusted by the town's ineffectual police department. "Robert Harris...white male, age 31...no enemies, and no one besides her mentioned in his will. No suicidal tendencies, and he'd seemed perfectly happy, yesterday and otherwise. As far as health goes, he was perfectly normal. He hadn't been complaining of any aches, pains, or anything. He was at very low risk for brain or nervous system problems -- normal cholesterol and blood pressure, and he didn't smoke or have diabetes. No history of heart problems, either personally or in his family. This guy was the healthiest guy on the planet. And no problems at home, nothing apparently wrong at work, aside from the fact that Mr. Harris had seemed slightly preoccupied with his work the day he died." "Did you find out how he died?" "Evidently, he was just going to a friend's house. They both worked at Nature's Best...it's a company that produces corn products -- and he was showing his friend the research information into a product they were shipping. He'd left his files at his friend's house and left to go get them. Mrs. Harris was inside the house making dinner and heard the car horn go off. She ran to look and Mr. Harris was either unconscious or dead inside his car and had fallen onto the horn. She was too late to stop the car from hitting the tree, so she called paramedics and ran to her husband, but he was dead by the time she reached him." Mulder was silent for a minute as he assessed the information, and then asked, "What do you think?" "I think...I think I was wrong about what I said earlier. I mean, this guy was a farmer for some local corn oil company. It may be suicide, or it may be natural causes, but I don't think there's an X-file here." Mulder looked at her, deep in thought. There was a long silence, and then he started for the car. "Mulder? What's your theory?" "I think..." there was a dramatic pause, "...we should go grab some dinner. We can talk about it then." ========================= Four Mile Cafe 7:10 p.m. ========================= Mulder returned with his fries and hamburger, and Scully's soup and salad, and sat down across from his partner. "Bon appetit." "Thanks." Scully took a sip of her soda and leaned closer to Mulder, speaking quietly. "Anyway, you promised to tell me *your* ideas." "That's gonna be a little hard, Scully," Mulder said, his arms folded across the table. "Why?" "I'm not even sure what my ideas are. I've just...okay, that company? Nature's Best? I think that's where we should start." Scully sighed. "Mulder, I think Kersh is right -- not every case we get is an X-file. You need to stop looking for what isn't there. This is a suicide case. We can wrap it up and go home. The local PD can straighten out all the loose ends." "There are *too many* loose ends to close this, Scully. We can't go home now. And what about the disk -- or whatever that was -- that they found at the crime scene? Do we just forget about that?" "It probably fell out of the neighbor's trash can." Mulder shook his head. "Too far up the Harris's driveway. And the neighbor's driveway is on the other side of their house, so the garbage barrels are no doubt over there too." Scully looked up, frustrated once again at her partner's stubbornness. "Well, if it wasn't a suicide, then what? Murder? Of some farmer who probably never made an enemy in his life? That's the only other explanation. Like it or not, Mulder, that's the way it is." Mulder was silent. Scully could tell he was dissatisfied with either explanation. She continued, trying to help him make up his mind. "The puncture wound on his neck? That would have to be from some sort of injection. We won't really know until I can autopsy the body, but there wasn't enough time for someone to inject Mr. Harris and get away. Besides, there were no footprints --other than his -- leading away in the dirt. What ever the mark is from, it was probably self-administered." Mulder smiled wryly. "Do you know how hard it is to give yourself a lethal injection, Scully?" Scully sighed, exasperated, but finally gave in. "Okay, then where do we start? If this is a murder investigation, what leads do we have?" "I think we should check into the company where Mr. Harris worked. Maybe they'll have some ideas." ========================= Sleepy Z Motel 2:02 a.m. ========================= Mulder lay in the motel's bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts flashing a mile a minute. Wondering how it all fit together; knowing it did somehow... It was a puzzle worth solving. A man was dead -- a healthy man who had seemed perfectly happy in all respects and had had no prior suicidal tendencies. From everything Mulder had learned about him, Robert Harris didn't seem like the type to kill himself. Death by natural causes seemed equally unlikely; not even the paramedics had been able to determine what killed the man, discounting heart attack or some other circulatory problem. Since the car crash hadn't been nearly strong enough to kill, it had been concluded that Harris's death had occurred either before the collision -- when Mrs. Harris had seen him collapsed over the wheel -- or very shortly after, because Mrs. Harris had found him dead as she called 911. Since he had been fine when he left the house, there was about a five-minute window when death had occurred. That ruled out practically everything, including a stroke. And paramedics had not seen anything apparently wrong with the man, so a heart attack was also out. The only alternative was murder. But that seemed just as unlikely as the other explanations, from everything Mulder had learned. The Harris's had a big yard -- the neighbors' houses were too far away for anyone to have run to or from there without Mr. or Mrs. Harris seeing them. When the police had gotten there, they had found no tracks in the driveway -- other than Harris's -- and there would have been. The driveway was entirely covered with a thick layer of dirt, which was also slightly wet from the previous day's rain shower. Harris had just gotten home from work, which meant he would've noticed someone hiding in the car -- and again, there were no tracks leading away from the car, and Mrs. Harris had seen no one other than her husband in the yard all of that day. The only real clues they had were the mark on Harris's neck, and the little white disk. Despite everything, Mulder's gut feeling told him murder. His instinct was rarely wrong. The TV was on, playing dimly in the background. Mulder got up and began to pace around the room, flicking empty sunflower seed shells from his fingers every few seconds. He went to the big double window and stared blankly out, habitually taking in all the details. A couple of guys were hanging around on the corner smoking Morleys...the "y" and "z" were burned out on the glowing motel sign...a big jeep and a tanker truck rumbled down the road.... Mulder snapped himself out of the hypnotic daze he had fallen into and forced himself back to bed. As he drifted off, he was vaguely aware of an ad being played on the television for the Nature's Best company. "We produce quality corn products easily and efficiently using the latest technology. Consider us the next time your business needs superior farming products. Various employment positions worldwide are open and waiting for you, from Dallas to Detroit. Stop by today." Dallas, his blurring mind repeated endlessly, mantra-like. But Mulder was already asleep. ========================= Sunday, August 15 9:41 a.m. ========================= Mulder was awakened by Scully's gentle shaking. "Wake up, sleepyhead," she teased. "Ohhhhhhhh...I'm awake, I'm awake..." Mulder opened his eyes to see Scully smiling at him, her big green eyes holding the barest hint of reproach. "Pleasant dreams?" she quipped, turning to walk into her room. Mulder rolled out of bed, smiling hazily at her words. Suddenly, Scully's friendly remark struck a chord somewhere in his mind. The sensation was strong enough to make Mulder sit back down on the bed and make the comment, "Wow...that is so strange...I've got this really strong feeling that there's something I should remember." Scully turned around, staring quizzically at Mulder and wondering whether she should devote too much thought to this newest quirk in her partner. Then she remembered why she had woken him up, and checked her watch with one eyebrow raised. "Well, you'd better get changed. We have to go see the manager of the Nature's Best plant, remember? And then at noon I'm scheduled to do the autopsy...." She trailed off, seeing her partner's blank look. "Mulder?" "Hmmm?" Mulder looked dazed. "Is everything all right?" "No...I just haven't been able to shake this feeling; it's like I'm missing something," he said distantly, trying to figure out what he could have forgotten. "Well, we may be missing our chance to get to Nature's Best if you don't hurry up," she admonished. "I'll finish getting ready in the other room." ========================= Nature's Best management office 10:51 a.m. ========================= The receptionist at the desk was filing her nails when the two F.B.I. agents strode in. "Special Agents Mulder and Scully to see Mr. Kahn," Mulder announced, the two of them flashing their IDs. The girl looked the pair up and down suspiciously, and, chewing her gum contemplatively, buzzed Mr. Kahn's office. "Two F.B.I. agents are here, sir," and in a lower tone of voice, "What do you want me to do?" There was a pause, then, "Send them in to see me, Ms. Nichols," "Yes, sir," Ms. Nichols acquiesced. "You can go on in," she said, obviously suspicious. Mulder smiled and gave the girl a mock salute. Scully nudged him, a small smile playing on the edges of her lips. "Let's go, Mulder," she muttered. Mulder swung open the door and strode through, Scully on his heels. "Mr. Kahn? I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder; this is Agent Scully. Can we have a word with you?" "Of course." Mr. Kahn reached forward to shake the agents' hands. He was a tall, powerful man who looked wasted in such a small job as managing a tiny branch of an agricultural plant. "Please, have a seat." Scully seated herself at the desk, while Mulder, preferring to win the interview through psychological means, paced slowly back and forth behind Scully, summing up Kahn's office with casual, critical glances around the room. "Pretty far out in the country, aren't you, Mr. Kahn?" Mulder asked easily. "Oh yes, we find that the remote location well serves our agricultural needs," he answered, professionally. Mulder nodded musingly and leaned casually against the wall. Kahn glanced from one agent to the other, waiting for someone to speak. Finally, when no one did, he asked, with a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice, "Is there a problem, agents? I've never had the F.B.I. in here before. We're such a small plant..." "Nothing's wrong with your management, sir," Scully was quick to amend. "We're here to obtain some information about an employee of yours." "An employee?" Mr. Kahn looked genuinely confused. "Former employee, actually," Mulder spoke up suddenly. "Mr. Kahn," Scully began coolly, "an employee of yours, Robert Harris, was found dead a few days ago." He nodded slowly, looking quietly at Scully. "We won't know until the autopsy later today," she continued, "but most of the evidence points to murder. Can you tell us why someone would want to kill Rob Harris?" Kahn looked surprised and stunned at the mention of the word 'murder.' He paused for a moment, his lips pursed as he thought. Finally he looked up. "No...I really can't think of a *thing.* I'm sorry." "Are you sure," Mulder spoke up. It was clearly not a question. "Think. Did he ever have a meeting with you or another one of his superiors that didn't go well? Disagreements between himself and another member of the company that seemed more threatening than usual?" Mulder leaned forward. "Mr. Kahn. Did you ever hear Rob Harris talking about concerns about the company? Any worries or --" "Agent Mulder, are you implying that Nature's Best is responsible for Rob Harris's death? And if you are, I'll tell you right now --" Scully quickly took over. "Mr. Kahn, we're not implying anything; these are just routine questions that we have to ask. We only want to get to the bottom of this. Do you know *anything* that might help us in this case?" Just then her cell phone rang. "Just a minute please..." Scully murmured, pulling out her phone. "Scully. Yes? What?! When? Yeah, we'll be right over." "What is it?" Mulder asked, shooting Scully a concerned look. Scully looked at Mulder, communicating wordlessly to him that she'd tell him in the car. "Mr. Kahn, thank you for your time, and we'll get back to you on this," Scully stood and nudged Mulder to do the same. "Will one of you please tell me what's going on?" Mr. Kahn asked, now looking irritated. "We'll contact you in a few days, Mr. Kahn. Thank you," Mulder nodded, then closed the office door and ran to catch up with Scully as she stalked out to their car. The two got back out to the Camry, hurriedly climbed in and slammed the door. Mulder slipped the keys into the ignition and started up the car. "Floor it," Scully said urgently. "Scully? What happened?" "They stole the body," Scully said shortly, while, like her partner, trying to put the pieces together. "What??" "Rob Harris. His body is gone." ========================= Jacksonville Hospital 11:44 a.m. ========================= The two agents made an impressive entry into the tiny hospital. Mulder's trenchcoat swished around his ankles as he walked, his height contrasting Scully's shorter frame, and their black coats accenting her sunrise hair. She kept stride with him, walking quickly, efficiently, and professionally. The two rounded the corner and were met by Dr. Cambrell, the attendant in charge. "Hi, I'm Dr. Cambrell," the small, balding man said, outstretching his hand. "Thank you both for getting over here so soon. Let me show you where the body was being kept." "Who was the last person to see the body?" Mulder asked. "As far as I know, I was. I'm almost always the last to leave." "You locked up when you left?" "Yes, I did, but the security system here is pretty old." "Is it possible someone could've been hiding somewhere in the building without your knowledge?" "I think that's entirely possible." "And when would you have left last night?" "I think around 11. I had a last bit of paperwork to finish up. When I got in this morning, I didn't immediately notice that the body was missing. I don't usually check...they almost always stay put," he said with an ironic smile. "When did you first notice?" Scully continued. "I had been told that you two would be coming over around 12 this afternoon to perform an autopsy, so I opened up the autopsy room and got it equipped with the necessary supplies. We don't have too many autopsies here. When I finished with that, around 10:00 or 10:15, I guess, I checked on the body and found it was gone." "Why would you check on the body?" "Due to the...somewhat odd nature of the case, I've been a bit intrigued by it. And frankly, I've heard about what you do. You work with paranormal cases, right?" Mulder threw Scully a questioning look. "I wanted to make sure, you know, that nothing had happened. Nothing weird. And I'm glad I did," he finished, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. By this time, they had reached the small morgue and autopsy room. The agents took up searching -- first summing up the room in a glance or two, then walking the perimeter of the room looking for anything eye-catching or otherwise out of the ordinary. Scully then headed over to the shelf where Rob Harris's body had been kept, inspecting the stainless steel handle and surface of the cabinet for prints or other odd marks. Mulder, not seeing anything abnormal, joined her. "This was a clean job," Scully murmured. "There's nothing here, Mulder." "Yeah...whoever did this knew what they were doing." Scully opened the drawer. The interior of the shelf was clean too; it looked almost polished. The two agents glanced quickly inside for a few seconds then Mulder slammed it shut in disgust. He turned around sharply to look intently at Dr. Cambrell. "Did you see anything out of the ordinary last night? Anyone here who isn't usually? A car parked outside the window of the morgue with people waiting in it? Anything like that?" Dr. Cambrell frowned in thought. "Well, I remember that there was this jeep that kept driving back and forth in front of the building. One of the times it passed, I thought I saw something metal sticking out of the window. Binoculars, I think. Anyway, I had thought it was odd, but didn't give it much thought -- I was working pretty hard on my paperwork." Mulder looked closely at Dr. Cambrell, his barely contained frustration changing instantly to interest. "Did you see any of the occupants of the car?" "No, but like I said, it was pretty late...this was around 10 last night, I'd say. It was fairly dark, and the streetlights aren't what they could be. And I wasn't looking too closely. The only reason I saw the binoculars -- or whatever they were -- was because the shape of the metal caught the light. I'm sorry." Mulder turned to glance at Scully. She stared back, her features holding that sharp look that usually meant that she was trying to fit the pieces together. He turned back around, his sudden smile conveying the beginnings of comprehension. Then Scully remembered something. "Do you have his medical file, sir? I'd like to look over it." "Sure," he said, walking quickly to the desk and picking up a file. "I had a copy made in case you wanted it." "Thanks," she said, surprised at his genuine eagerness to help. "Thanks, Dr. Cambrell. If we need your help again, we'll get in touch with you," Mulder said. Scully took the cue, and nodded politely to Cambrell as she followed Mulder out the door and into the quiet hall. "It's beginning to make sense, Scully," Mulder announced quietly and confidently. "The jeep? It could have been military issue...it was too dark for Cambrell to have noticed that." "Mulder --" "Did you hear Cambrell? He told us he had heard that we investigate cases relating to the paranormal. Doesn't that strike you as odd? How would some doctor in a little *farming* town in Alabama know that?" Scully stopped what she was going to say, and nodded reluctantly. "Yes, I remember that. And yes, that is odd." Mulder continued, quiet triumphance showing in his eyes. "And I finally realized what I was missing. Remember, I woke up this morning feeling like I'd forgotten something? Last night, I had the TV on. An ad came on for the Nature's Best company. It mentioned something about employment offers. In Dallas, among other places." Scully had that look again. Mulder continued. "Dallas. Corn products -- that means cornfields. Jeeps driving around the streets late at night. I did some checking. Turns out Four Mile is within two miles of the Fort McClellan military base and nine miles away from the Anniston Army Depot." "What?" "Last night I saw a tanker truck drive past the motel...there isn't exactly a big highway going through here. And let's not forget Robert Harris, whose body is mysteriously missing from the morgue -- in a tiny city that's had virtually no crimes to its name until now -- and who died possibly as the result of that little puncture mark *in his neck.* The officer I talked to said it could've been made by an insect bite. What does that bring to mind, Scully? Don't tell me that there's nothing going on here. The only thing that's missing are ashes and a Morley butt in the ashtray in Kahn's office." Scully stopped walking and looked Mulder in the eyes for a full 15 seconds. Mulder suddenly wondered if he had gone too far -- he knew this subject was difficult for her to talk about. Then Scully spoke. "You're right. I...this isn't easy for me." She sighed deeply, looking straight ahead; her defenses had been weakened almost imperceptibly for a moment. Mulder began walking again, quicker this time. He looked down at Scully walking beside him, noting again her strength, her courage. Something she had said to him a long time ago suddenly came back to Mulder's memory. "...I had the strength of your beliefs...." The pair made their way back to the car in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Mulder opened the passenger door for Scully. She seemed vaguely surprised, and snapped herself out of her thoughts long enough to half-smilingly murmur, "Oh...thank you, Mulder." He smiled at her and slid into the driver's seat. Mulder pulled the car out of the garage and onto the main road. He took a deep breath and turned to look at his friend. "Scully," She shook herself visibly, and looked over at him. "Uh," Mulder fumbled, unsure of where to begin, "Scully, I know that this is hard for you...but still, I think it's a good bet that we're dealing with the same people here. Possibly even a...a minor use of the bee carrier system that we saw in Dallas." "You think Rob Harris knew too much so they had him killed?" Mulder nodded. "And they found a way that they could get rid of Harris and test the reliability of the bees at the same time. Not to mention the fact that they must've developed a much stronger strain of the virus than the one that...stung you." He heard the words come out of his mouth and was instantly kicking himself for the complete lack of tact. Scully winced inside, instantly and *almost* completely stifling the memory that rose to her mind. She continued listening, trying not to let her distraction show. "At any rate," Mulder continued after a moment, "they're coming out of the closet little by little...getting bolder with their use of the virus. All I know is that I wish we had taken more precautions to keep our presence here more of a secret." "Well, Mulder, this is a small town...they most likely haven't seen this much excitement since color TV was invented." Scully said, smiling distractedly. Mulder looked at her once again, then plunged back into his thoughts. The car cruised down the empty, dusty road. The two drove along in silence. Mulder almost didn't see the stoplight, but in spite of the fact that there were no cars on the road, and probably hadn't been all morning, he pulled to a stop at the red light. Looking back at his partner again, he felt compelled to speak. "Scully...I know I don't tell you this enough, but --" Mulder suddenly forgot the words he had intended to say as Scully turned to look at him again. For an unguarded moment, her eyes held all the feelings that Mulder knew were also his. He loved her. And for the first time since that day last summer, he knew beyond a doubt that she loved him in return. Abruptly, the memory of his encounter on the Queen Anne came crashing back. And what had happened after. ((You told her you loved her when you were in the hospital, and she laughed in your face. You two aren't meant to love each other. That's why you haven't been able to tell her.)) Mulder sighed, resolving reluctantly to once again remain silent. Suddenly his dismal thoughts dissolved. ((You love her. There's no denying that. You know she loves you. And there's no putting it off any longer. You'll hate yourself if you don't speak now. You may not have another chance.)) Knowing that *these* were his real thoughts, Mulder felt a sudden surge of peace. ((This is right.)) He took a deep breath, and reached over and took Scully's hand. "Dana...I love you." Fox Mulder said. The look in her eyes changed to a look of amazement mixed with shock. She stared into his eyes for what seemed to Mulder eternity. He could see her considering this revelation, a mixture of expressions flitting across her face. Then she smiled, with tears beginning to form in her beautiful eyes, a smile of pure joy. Mulder had just enough time to think that he had never seen such a beautiful smile in his life before...and then he found himself kissing her, and all other thoughts faded away. ========================= Sleepy Z Motel 12:51 p.m. ========================= Scully sat on her bed in her motel room in a daze. She couldn't believe what had happened. Mulder -- workaholic, obsessed, alien-hunter Mulder -- had told her that he loved her. He had kissed her and told her that he loved her. The words played endlessly over and over in her mind like a melody. "...Dana...I love you...." She couldn't help it. She couldn't stop thinking about him. ((Stop it!)) she told herself fiercely, wrenching herself off the bed and pacing around the room. ((You need to think about this. You need to collect your thoughts and get ready to talk with him.)) Standing straight before the mirror now, she threw her shoulders back and smoothed a loose strand of fiery golden hair back into place. ((There. That's better. You're calm, you're rational.)) She let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding and replayed the scene in her mind. They had kissed. Scully had never felt so completely at peace. For the first time in years, all the problems and rules of science and logic had melted away, and she realized how much she trusted Mulder and felt his absolute trust of her. She had no idea how long the moment lasted. After they finally pulled away from each other, she had held his gaze for as long as it took for another car to pull up and honk impatiently. Then they went back to the motel. She had gone to her room while Mulder drove to the Four Mile Cafe. Each had to be alone in their own way. She hadn't thought the moment would come when she and Mulder expressed their feelings for each other. In fact, it had only been recently that she had realized that she loved him. But she had never been sure about Mulder's feelings toward her -- if they were real or if it was just teasing. She had never thought about their relationship extending past anything but friendship; she had never wanted to think that far ahead about her future or damage the friendship they had now. Loneliness crept in only when she let her guard down, and that didn't happen very often. But right now it was impossible not to think about their relationship outside of the work and partner context, and for the first time, the thoughts that came to mind were good *and* realistic ones, and she indulged readily in them. The adjoining door creaked open, startling Scully out of her reverie. She glanced up from where she was now sitting on the floor with her back to the bed, half-expecting to see the Cancer Man standing there, Morley in hand. "Hey again," Mulder said cheerily, his smiling voice snapping Scully back to reality. "I got you a...salad and some very, very good-smelling cheddar cauliflower soup," he said, whipping the two containers out from behind his back with a flourish. "That was fast...mmmmm...thank you, Mulder," she smiled, taking the Styrofoam dishes and plastic silverware from him with a curious glance into the soup. He shut the door and plunked down on the floor next to her, leaning comfortably against the bed. "Yeah, they've actually got a drive-through at that little place...look at that, Scully...big, juicy hamburger..." he teased, brandishing it under her nose, then seizing it with both hands and taking a huge mouthful. She grinned and speared a piece of mushroom with the plastic fork. "Oh, I looked over Robert Harris's medical file." "And?" It came out as more of a grunt through the burger. She smiled. "And...he was perfectly healthy in every respect. In fact, he had just undergone a complete physical as per company policy. It was very thorough. The ECG test showed no coronary artery disease, and the EEG and various CAT scans came back negative for any problems as well." "They were thorough," he remarked, slightly amused. "I guess that pretty much rules out death by natural causes." Scully nodded. "So where do we go from here?" she asked, poking her spoon into the thick soup. "I think," Mulder said, "that we should call the Lone Gunmen and see what they can find out. Maybe they can give us some leads." "While you do that, I'm going to run a background check on Phillip Kahn." "He did seem kinda...wasted in that job, huh?" Mulder agreed, scooping a fingerful of Scully's soup into his mouth before she could stop him. A smile tugging at her mouth, Scully cocked an eyebrow at him and without a word, snatched Mulder's fry container. Mulder let out a "Hey!" and grabbed the other end of the container in Scully's hands, a grin taking over his face. She laughed and shoved his hands off the side of the box, but he reached back and captured her hands, his big ones engulfing hers. Scully tried to yank the container back from Mulder, but suddenly found herself looking into the most adoring eyes she'd ever seen, and stopped tugging at the fry container. Realizing that the same look must be in her eyes, Scully was vaguely aware of leaning over to meet Mulder's kiss. The phone rang. Startled, they snapped away from each other, and Mulder jumped up to answer the phone. Scully began eating her soup again, trying to regain her composure. She turned her head to look as Mulder picked up the phone. "Yeah?" There was a brief pause, then Mulder called impatiently, "Hello?" There was no answer. He put the receiver down, a puzzled expression on his face. Scully looked at him, slightly concerned. "Mulder?" He stood by the bedside table looking blank for a second, then he blinked and his eyes cleared. "Mulder? You okay?" He nodded slowly. "Good," she said, putting her worry aside. "I think --" Just then Scully heard the sound of a car, turning the corner into the parking lot of the motel with screeching tires. Something about the sound made a chill go down her spine. She glanced up at Mulder, who had turned his head to stare at the connecting door to their room, closed now. Suspicion growing in her mind, she was almost afraid to speak. "Mulder...?" Mulder stalked to the dresser and slid the car key into his pocket. "We gotta get out of here, Scully," he said tightly. "Mulder, who was on the phone?" Scully demanded, her body tense. "Someone who hung up the minute they heard me answer. They know we're investigating Rob Harris's death, Scully, they know where we're staying, and now they know exactly where we are *right now,* and I don't feel like hanging around until the welcoming party shows up. The car's parked outside my room. Grab your jacket and let's *go.*" Scully picked up her jacket, hoping against her instinct and all she had seen that this was a paranoid delusion, and quickly strode to the connecting door close on Mulder's heels. He threw the door open. Standing in the outer doorway to Mulder's room was a man in a white decontamination suit smiling grimly. But that wasn't the first thing the two agents saw. A swarm of bees was rapidly filling the room. Unable to breathe, Scully was snapped out of her daze by Mulder's voice. "Run!" he yelled over the growing hum. "Scully, run!" She whirled around, unwillingly turning her back on the threat, and bolted out the door with her jacket pulled up over her head. At the last moment she remembered to close the outer door to her room, and turned to see the swarm filling her room. Somehow she forced her hand out to the door still inside the room and slammed it. Mulder was suddenly at her side, service weapon in hand. "Come on, let's go," he said gently. She nodded numbly and pulled out her own handgun. The motel was laid out in such a way that Scully's room, although connected to Mulder's, lay directly behind it, and opened out to the other side of the motel. On the opposite side now from where the car was, they stealthily walked the length of the motel and rounded the corner with weapons leveled at any possible threat. Both of them were completely focused on the last corner ahead. They had almost reached it when a thought caused Scully to stop walking. "Mulder," she said quietly, touching his arm lightly with her fingers. He looked down. She paused, searching for the words. "What is it, Scully?" Mulder asked, looking at her closely. "I have something I need to tell you. Before we go." He nodded softly, inviting her to continue. "I love you too, Mulder..." She leaned against him and only then realized she was shaking. A slow smile spread lingeringly across Mulder's features as he put his arms around her and lightly rested his chin on her head. Scully blinked back sudden tears and forced herself to go on. "And I just wanted to tell you now because...I want you to remember that whatever happens, I love you...." She trailed off and stepped back to look into Mulder's eyes as he tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek. "I know, Scully," Mulder murmured as he put his arm around her shoulder, pressing his lips against her hair. She sighed and looked back at the corner of the motel. "You ready?" Mulder mouthed. She nodded and ran her hand through her hair, composure coming on once. They pulled out their service weapons and cocked them at the same time, affording Scully a small smile. Mulder looked at her and grinned, and then both snapped into total concentration as they approached the end of the building. Scully leaned against the wall and slowly looked around the edge. "The car's about ten parking spaces away," she hissed. Looking farther, she whispered, "Let's go -- it looks clear." She slid around the corner first and kept her gun ready. Suddenly a sound made them both freeze. The click of a hammer. Mulder's quick glance told Scully everything. His hands went up in surrender, as she watched out of sight on the other side of the wall. Mulder stood, hands clasped behind his head, staring at a man in a decontamination suit. In one gloved hand, the man was aiming a .38; the other held a small white cylinder. Mulder could only think of two things. The man was still suited up for a reason. The suit would slow the man down. Mulder braced himself. From her new vantage point on the opposite side of the Camry, Scully watched her partner's back and kept her gun trained on the edge of the wall. Suddenly, Mulder broke into a run, snapping himself around to the other side of the wall as the gunman fired several shots. Forcing herself to put apprehension aside, Scully waited for Mulder to join her, eyes focused on where the gunman should appear. Just then, a small white cylinder came flying through the air and clanked to the ground a few feet past the sidewalk that ran around the motel. She dropped to the ground, unsure of whether it was an explosive or something else. She watched the object warily from where she lay on the pavement. Then, inexplicably, one end of the capsule came loose and rolled to a stop a few feet away from the Camry. Knowing she should go investigate, Scully stood cautiously and then spotted Mulder, half-crouching, half-lying against one of the doors of the motel. "Mulder!" her voice rang out across the desolate parking lot. He looked up weakly, his eyes blank. She ran to him, bent down and began to move his arm to lay it across her shoulder. His cry of pain caused fear to course through Scully like a deadly poison. Looking quickly down, she saw his white shirt, now soaked with blood. Then she looked up from Mulder's limp form...and gasped. A massive cloud of...something was hurtling towards them and a humming noise was rapidly growing louder. Then her body kicked into high gear as her senses belatedly registered what her mind refused to acknowledge. Bees. "Mulder! Come on, Mulder, we have to move," she cried hoarsely, fighting the panic that threatened to paralyze her. They got to their feet, and started stumbling towards the car as the bees overtook them. Scully fought down the instinct to swat at the insects, knowing that would only provoke them. She managed to slide into the car and help Mulder in through the passenger door before the bees boiled around the car. Leaning back in her seat, panting, Scully was suddenly struck by a thought. ((My window is open!)) Scully slammed her hand down on the power window button. Slowly, the window started up. At last it closed. But not before one bee had gotten inside. Scully sat, frozen, watching as the deadly insect crawled along the roof of the car and buzzed at the back window. Wrenching her eyes from the tiny creature, she looked down at Mulder sprawled in the seat next to her, blood seeping into his shirt. Trying to ignore the angry bees outside the car and the one inside, Scully bent over her partner, choking back a sudden gush of fear. "Oh, Mulder..." She deftly unbuttoned his jacket and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. He smiled exhaustedly and mumbled, "Don't you want to slip into something more comfortable?" She raised her eyebrow at that, but, totally absorbed in the task at hand, said nothing. His shirt was off by now, and Scully was looking at a bullet lodged in Mulder's right shoulder. "I hope you weren't real attached to this shirt," Scully murmured through pursed lips, and began tearing it into strips. "Is that the only place he shot you?" "No..." Mulder whispered, gritting his teeth in pain as she pressed the cloth against his shoulder. "My side..." He rolled stiffly onto his left side, revealing another wound on his back, several inches to the right of his spine. Scully took it all in. "I think you're gonna be okay, Mulder--" "Tell that to my nerves," he muttered, smiling faintly. "--As long as we can get you to the hospital," Scully continued, doctor-style. "No hospitals, Scully...the first place they'd look." Scully sighed wearily. "We have no choice, Mulder. We can't stay here, and you need a hospital." Mulder closed his eyes, obviously drained. "Whatever you say, Dr. Scully," he said, half-asleep. Scully had finished wrapping his shoulder when she saw the approaching military jeeps. Starting up the car, she slammed the accelerator and swerved onto the main road, the two vehicles coming up the road behind her. ((I'm being chased in the same direction the hospital is in,)) she thought. But to Scully's surprise, the jeeps turned in to the motel and parked. Watching in her rearview mirror, she saw eight white- clad figures leap out of the cars and begin hosing the area with a reddish-brown spray. Scully sighed in uncertainty and filed this new information away for later. Apprehensively checking the Camry's back window to ensure the bee hadn't moved, Scully picked up her cell phone and dialed the number for the Lone Gunmen. "Lone Gunmen," Byers answered in a professional voice. "Byers, turn off the tape; it's Scully." There was a small series of clicks. "Hey, Scully, " Byers greeted pleasantly. "How's Mulder?" "He's been shot," Scully said abruptly. "What?? Is he okay?" "It's because of this case we're working on. Byers, I need you to get me some information." "Well...what do you need to know?" Byers asked, still sounding concerned. "I need you guys to find any information you can on a Phillip Kahn, Robert Harris, or a company called Nature's Best. This is *very important.* Are we clear?" "Gotcha. We'll call you back as soon as we find something." Eyeing the bee on the back window, Scully slid her cellular back into her pocket and drove. ========================= Jacksonville Hospital 5:57 p.m. ========================= "I need some information on a person who was brought in here a few hours ago," Scully announced to the desk nurse, flashing her ID. "Name?" she asked crisply, flipping through the few file folders on the desk. "Mulder -- Fox Mulder." "Multiple gunshot?" Scully's breath caught. Quickly forcing herself back to a professional demeanor, she acknowledged, "Yes. I need to know what room he's in." The nurse consulted her file, then glanced up. "112." "Thanks." Scully turned and strode quickly down the hall. Coming to Mulder's room, she paused a second, collecting herself, and then turned the handle and eased the door open. Relieved to see Mulder still in his bed ((you're as paranoid as he is, Dana)), Scully pulled the hard plastic chair up to the side of his bed and picked up a Reader's Digest that was lying on the side table as she waited for him to come to. She had just finished reading "All in a Day's Work" and was smiling wryly at the name when her cellular rang. "Scully." "Scully, it's Langly." "Did you find anything?" she asked eagerly and quietly, standing up. "Nothing so far on either Phillip Kahn or Robert Harris, but I think we've got something on that company you gave us. Nature's Best. It allegedly produces corn products -- oil, that sort of thing, right?" "That's right." "We haven't been able to find much of anything about them through public channels -- nothing on them on the Internet, promotionals or ads for their products, or national distributors of foodstuffs. The only thing we found that was available to the general public was a few scattered employment offers. In newspapers, mostly. I think a commercial even ran on TV in some places during a late timeslot. But you won't believe what we found...unofficially." "What?" "Various government charters transacting business with a certain government-owned company. Guess who the company was. Nature's Best had signed to transport something referred to as 'the product' to and from various locations worldwide. And get this -- this international company, that should've taken years to establish itself even nationally, was only founded in 1996." "What?" Scully asked incredulously. "That's all we were able to find," Langly continued, pleased at such a favorable reaction. "But like I said, we haven't even looked into those two guys you gave us." "No, no...this is fantastic...thanks, Langly." "Don't mention it...and Scully?" "Yeah?" "Tell Mulder 'hey' from all of us...and we hope he's O.K." "All right. Thanks." Scully flipped her phone off and slapped it down on the table, her mind working furiously over what Langly had said. She settled back in the chair and tried to get comfortable, prepared to wait for her partner. ========================= Monday, August 16 8:31 a.m. ========================= Dana Scully had not slept a wink. Totally preoccupied in watching over Mulder and trying to understand the strange events of the previous day, she hadn't yet missed the sleep. Not to mention that anxiety for her partner made it difficult to keep her eyes closed for longer than two minutes together. Mulder stirred. "Mulder?" Scully scooted the chair over to the bed and looked at him closely. "Mulder? Are you awake?" He lay motionless for a few seconds as Scully began stroking the side of his face with her hand. Then his eyes eased open, staring blankly before focusing on her face. She smiled gently. "Hey." "Oh Scully...you have no idea how much better it is to wake up to your face than theirs..." Mulder slurred. She blinked, then remembered the summer and smiled. He tried to sit up, then moaned and collapsed back on the bed. "Don't try to sit up, Mulder," she cautioned. "Do you remember what happened?" Frowning, Mulder thought back. "Last thing I remember is a man in a white suit aiming a gun at me." "I guess you decided it was better to get away from them...even if it meant getting shot." Mulder smiled. "Or maybe I just didn't want to lose you again." Unsure of what to say, Scully smoothed his hair away from his forehead and plunged into the business at hand. "Mulder, I talked to Langly. It seems that Nature's Best doesn't even exist as a food company; apparently it's government-owned and was only founded in 1996. And they dug up government documents referring to transactions with Nature's Best, who had agreed to internationally transport something they called 'the product'." Mulder propped himself up on his elbows. "That's it, Scully. 'The product' -- it's the virus. That's why the company was created. To transport it." She nodded. "I think so too, Mulder." Then she was quiet, lost in troubling thoughts. "Mulder...you realize what this means, don't you?" His brow furrowed. Scully took a deep breath. "It means you were right, Mulder. About everything. The aliens, the abductions, the bees, the black oil.... The time is near. They've gotten to the point where they need this thing to be transported worldwide. They're preparing. For a global invasion." Mulder's eyes widened in comprehension. Then he nodded slowly, the truth of her words sinking in. "So...now what?" "Well...we should get over to the Nature's Best office with a search warrant. And I'd like to find out the name of the friend that Rob Harris was going to see so we can question him." He sat up and started to swing his legs out of bed. "No, Mulder. You need to lie back and take it easy." "I'll be okay," he assured her, wincing slightly as he tried to stand. He walked over to the other side of the bed where his clothes were folded up and picked up his slacks. "Mulder, get back in bed." "Look at me, Scully. I'm fine; I've had worse," he maintained, pulling on his pants. "You can't even put weight on your right side without flinching. You need to be in bed," Scully insisted, knowing it was pointless to argue. Mulder looked at her closely. "You've been here all night, haven't you? Did you get *any* sleep?" She looked him directly in the eye. "I didn't want anything to happen to you." "You're the one who needs to be in bed, not me." Mulder slid the hospital gown off over his head and wriggled into his bloody shirt, cringing as it brushed against the white bandages. "Mulder...." Suddenly Mulder laughed. "Listen to us, Scully. We both should be resting right now but neither of us wants to admit it...or lose time on this case." She looked indignant for a second, then smiled. "Let's just go." He nodded and slung his jacket over his back, sticking his service weapon into the holster. The two stood to leave the room, his arm encircling her shoulder. Then Scully's cell phone rang. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the phone, stepping slightly away from Mulder as she answered. "Scully." There was silence, and then "Sir?" Scully asked, confused, as Mulder stiffened beside her. "What??" Mulder turned apprehensively to face her. She glanced up at him as he mouthed 'what?'. She looked about to reply when something on the other end of the phone caught her full attention. "What evidence?" Scully demanded incredulously, distrust obvious in her tone. Silence, and then, "Classified? This was *our* case--" She stared rebelliously into space for a minute as the person on the other line spoke. "Yes." She flipped the cellular off and stood, taken aback at the news. Mulder waited, knowing she would explain when she could collect her thoughts. After a minute, and still staring at some imaginary point on the wall, Scully spoke. Her voice sounded distant as she related what had been said. "That was A.D. Kersh. He said that they've found new evidence," she began, still stunned. "Evidence proving that Robert Harris died of natural causes. He wouldn't tell me what it was. Said it was...classified." She laughed quietly, contempt and anger sliding through her voice. "Anyway, they've closed the case; we are no longer here in official capacity and he wants to see us back in D.C. immediately," she finished, her quiet, measured tones belying the turmoil that showed on her face. Dismayed, Mulder stood, motionless for a moment. Then he leaned close to Scully, whispering, "They must have bugged the room, Scully. They've been watching us -- monitoring our progress. We've gotten too close to something, and I am not *about* to let them take us off of it. And then when they heard you telling me what he said, they had Kersh call us to close the case. They've been keeping tabs on us the whole time." "But...why give us the case in the first place?" "I don't know. Maybe someone slipped up somewhere, or maybe someone somewhere is trying to help us...I don't know. But they know now that we've seen too much, and they'll do anything they can to make sure that we're taken off the assignment -- one way or another...that this case does *not* go on record." Surprised at how much this made sense to her, Scully asked quietly, "So where do we go, Mulder? What happens now? If this is true, we're not safe anywhere...except off the case. Not to mention that they'll never let us have a search warrant for a case that's supposed to be closed." She trailed off and sat back down in the chair by the bed, staring at the door absent-mindedly as she searched her mind for a solution. Mentally going over everything they had found out, Mulder suddenly remembered something. "Officer Kelley." Scully glanced up from her contemplative daze, questioningly interested. "Down at the police station. We can call him...see what's going on down there." He fished his phone out from his jacket pocket and dialed the operator, and then from there called the police station. "Hello, this is Agent Fox Mulder, from the F.B.I. I'd like to speak with Officer Kelley, please. Agent *Mulder.*" He waited for a moment, and then, "Officer Kelley? Yeah, this is Agent Mulder; we spoke briefly Saturday evening...yeah that's right. Listen, I need to know what you turned up that showed that Rob Harris died from natural causes." There was a long pause, then Mulder nodded. "Thanks." "What'd he say?" Scully asked as Mulder hung up. "He said they had declared that he died from cardiac arrest," Mulder informed her, skepticism showing on his face. "What?" Scully cried. "That's virtually impossible, Mulder. Harris's medical file showed that the ECG had come back negative." Mulder took a breath. "That wasn't all he said, Scully. He said...not to call again. He said that a man had come in and told the police department not to give us any more information...that we were here illegally. No one believed him at first, until he took the chief of police aside into an office and spoke with him for a few minutes. When the chief came out he gave everyone strict instructions not to help us, and to notify him if we called." He shoved his phone into his pocket and went to pick up his jacket. "Then he hung up. I think he was trying to warn me but just didn't know how." Scully looked at him in silence, waiting for him to continue. He sighed, and looked her straight in the eyes. "Scully, we have to give up the case." As he spoke, he silently motioned her over to the thin notepad lying on the table beside his bed. Hurriedly, he scrawled a short message on the piece of paper, then held it up before her eyes. 'They may be listening.' Her eyebrows went up minutely, then she nodded and took the paper and pen. 'We can't stay here anymore' she scribbled as she said "I think you're right, Mulder. As soon as possible." Mulder took the paper and jotted down three letters, then handed it to Scully. Her eyes widened, then she nodded, and without a word, walked into the bathroom. A ripping sound was faintly audible, and then the toilet flushed and Scully emerged, hands empty. "Let's go." ========================= Somewhere in Virginia 10:10 a.m. ========================= Tendrils of pale grey smoke curled like long skeletal fingers in the darkness of the room. Light came in tentatively through small windows but was filtered through nearly shut blinds. No one turned on a lamp. The darkness was preferable to those present. A man, face veiled in shadows, stood in the middle of the room. Several others stood around him, silent and motionless. His eyes met those of a tall man with white hair. The tall man spoke. "There is a problem." The first man drew nearer. "Yes?" The tall man strode to the small television that had been placed on an end table and pressed a button. The screen flicked on. It was footage from a security camera. The first man came closer. "Our operatives recorded this from a camera inside the hospital," the tall man stated. "We were able to pull this from it." He handed the first man a printed image, a clarified and sharpened still from the footage. It showed a man and a woman standing near a table, with a piece of paper between them on the table. The writing on the paper had been circled. The first man squinted at the three letters on the paper. "L. G. M." He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly. "They're going to Washington." ========================= 8:49 p.m. ========================= Mulder drove quickly along the interstate, looking for a motel. Scully lay catching up on some much-needed sleep in the passenger seat next to him, her breathing a quiet reassurance of her presence. He looked down at her. A compulsion to protect her from harm had arisen in Mulder ever since her abduction; her cancer had only made it stronger. He had never been able to completely rid himself of the feeling that everything that had happened to the two of them, to their families and friends, had been more than partly his fault. And though he knew that Scully supported him and didn't blame him for anything that had happened at the hands of the Syndicate, he felt none of it would have happened had they not been investigating X-files. And more than that, he felt responsible for Scully. She would be the last person to ever say that she needed his protection from anything, but his inclination and instinct toward paranormal cases gave him a better understanding of what they might face. He admired and respected Scully for being willing to give it her all even though she didn't share the majority of his beliefs. And...he loved her. With all of his heart. So he watched over her now, knowing he was prepared to die for her if necessary. She had told him about the bee in their car as they were leaving the hospital. It was hard for her to admit how afraid she really was, Mulder knew. He had killed the bee without much trouble and had turned around to see her standing there, trembling slightly and very pale. She had slid into the car and tried desperately to stay awake, but Mulder knew he could never understand how much the events of the previous day had affected her. They had never spoken much about what happened to her that day last summer, but still they knew neither of them would be the same. Again he looked down at her. She was so beautiful, especially sleeping. She looked so completely at peace, so childlike in her tranquility, so untouched by the evil in the world. When she was awake, Mulder was aware of a constant effort on her part to keep the mask of cool, detached, professionalism unwavering. Before this case, he had only seen it break down on occasion. Her sister's death. The letters never meant to be read, written during her darkest moments. The Donnie Pfaster case. Eddie Van Blundht. But now, their relationship had shifted. Subtly. While neither of them thought that their relationship was lacking in anything, there was something different now than there was before. It was moving past a professional relationship, past friendship, and into love. Scully's veil of untouchable calm was coming down more and more often. The air had finally been cleared of so many unsaid thoughts and feelings that had been so heavy before, and the release Mulder felt was palpable. Their friendship had just been waiting for it to happen. They finally now realized this. They were soul mates. Just then, they passed a sign -- "Motel 6 -- next exit." Mulder leaned over and reluctantly nudged Scully awake. "Hey, Scully...Motel 6 sound good?" She sat up, looking faintly disoriented for a second; then she blinked and her vision cleared. "Sure..." she mumbled, and sat up sleepily, straightening her seatbelt. "What time is it?" Mulder checked his watch. "Ten." Seeing her surprise, he added, "You needed the sleep." She nodded slowly and sat up straighter. ========================= Room 124 Motel 6 10:23 p.m. ========================= "Are you sure? I mean, I'd be glad to --" "Mulder. You've been driving for eleven hours. You need your sleep." Scully insisted mildly with her hands on her hips. He sighed in reluctant but thankful surrender and crawled into the little motel bed. They had asked for a single room with two beds since they were only going to be there for a few hours. Scully had been adamant on taking first watch. She strode into the bathroom and flipped the light off, then walked over to Mulder's bed. "Sleep tight," she whispered softly. The image of his sleepy, smiling face was imprinted on her retina as she twisted the switch on the light by his bed. Surrounded now in complete darkness, Scully made her way to the chair by the large window and sat, cracking open the blinds just enough to see the parking lot. She had three hours to watch. ========================= 1:43 a.m. ========================= "Mulder?" a tired Scully whispered, softly shaking him awake. "Mulder? It's quarter till two." He blinked, then rolled out of bed, standing slowly up. "Anything happen while I was asleep?" She walked back across the room and shook her head, conveying with the simple gesture the apprehension that had plagued her throughout the night. Mulder smiled with tender sympathy. He had always lived with the paranoia; she was only beginning to understand that it -- all of it -- was real. Fully awake now, he walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulder, hugging her compassionately. She sighed and leaned her head against his arm, allowing her stress to slowly dissolve while she fuzzily considered spending the night in his arms. Then she opened her eyes -- and saw the point of a laser tracing a path to the center of Mulder's chest. "Mulder! Get down!" she cried, adrenaline snapping her awake. Hitting the floor next to Scully without a thought, Mulder looked up to see a bullet shatter the glass and bury itself in the wall directly behind where Mulder had been standing. Scully rolled to the dresser and snatched up her weapon. She ran to the door and looked out the peephole, then threw the door open. Mulder joined her with his gun, and the two walked cautiously out, guns cocked, only to see a black sedan with tinted windows -- that hadn't been there before -- pull out of the space directly in front of the door to their room and drive scornfully away. Both sensing the absence of the immediate threat, they slipped quickly back into the room and bolted the door. Scully began methodically closing the blinds as Mulder sat slowly down on the bed, his head in his hands. He was silent, thinking. He couldn't believe things had happened so fast; Sunday had been their only full day on the case. He could practically smell the cigarette smoke; the Consortium -- what was left of them at least -- had worked fast. Although Mulder had known deep down that the day would come where the two of them had to disappear, he'd never been forced to think about it. Now, with such an obvious threat on both of their lives, and such a crucial case to solve, he knew the time had come. "Now what do we do, Scully?" He looked up and met her gaze, his face showing the frustration and quiet anger he knew they both felt. "What just happened was a warning. Next time we won't get the time to duck." She walked over and sat on the bed next to him, then began stroking his back softly, taking her turn to comfort her partner. They remained there for several minutes, both taking solace in the presence of the other. Reluctant to break the quiet but feeling the need to ask, Mulder took a deep breath and said, haltingly, "Scully, if you want to give up the case...I mean -- I'll understand." She looked up quickly, taken aback at his words. "Mulder, I know you may feel...responsible for this, but I'm here because I want to be. And I'm in this just as much as you are." He watched her closely. "You have to realize this -- staying on this case will probably mean getting a...a false ID, and changing the plates on the car, and...dyeing your hair," he murmured, grimacing at the last as he gently entwined his fingers in her smooth red hair. "We'll be...disappearing, going into hiding. You know that." She looked him straight in the eye. "Mulder, I *will do* whatever I have to." He smiled, trust and love surfacing on his troubled face. "Thank you, Scully. I -- you have no idea how much this means to me." She smiled back, standing up. He stood as well, looking deeply into her eyes, then murmured, forcefully, "Thank you." They left right then, with Mulder driving. They had five hours left to get where they were going. The Lone Gunmen. ========================= Office of the Lone Gunmen Tuesday, August 17 5:17 a.m. ========================= Mulder waited impatiently as the ten or fifteen different locks slid out of place. "Hurry up, Frohike," he called edgily, staring deliberately at the security camera that was trained on the door. Finally the door opened, and Frohike peeked out, warily ensuring -- in spite of the camera -- the identity of the two at the door. "The mighty warrior and his little..." Trailing off and seeing the sharp looks on their faces, Frohike contented himself with "...Hey, you two." Scully shot him one last Look, and they edged inside. Byers and Langly sat hunched over the computer, Byers looking up when Mulder and Scully came in. "How are you feeling, Mulder?" Byers asked, sizing him up as if trying to see where exactly he had been shot. "I'm okay," he informed him, "But that may not last for long if Scully and I can't find somewhere to hide so we can solve this case. Whatever you've been doing, it better be good." Obviously curious, all of the Gunmen were paranoid enough not to ask and contented themselves with cryptic glances at each other. Mulder watched all this with hidden amusement until Frohike said, "Oh, it's good." The confidence in his voice was impossible to miss. "Take a look for yourselves." Mulder and Scully walked over to the computer to see for themselves. "Almost done," Langly reported. Byers stood up. "We've entered the names into all national databases, and gave you both medical files, addresses, work information...the usual. Now we're just formatting the drivers licenses." "Can you alter those photos?" Mulder asked, pointing to the screen. Langly looked up, curious. "Sure...what do you want us to do?" "Okay...give me glasses like these," Mulder said, pulling a pair of tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses out of his jacket pocket. Langly nodded and tapped out several commands on the keyboard. "Anything else?" "Yeah...try this on for size." Mulder removed a box of women's hair color from his pocket. Langly's eyes widened slightly as he looked from the box to Scully, then back to the box. "Okay, you got it." He fiddled some more with the mouse and then, "How's that?" Scully looked. On the screen was a picture of her -- with dark brown hair. She squinted. It *was* very well done. "Nice work." The IDs printed out and Frohike laminated them, then handed them to the agents. "There ya go...Mark and Silvia Ryder. Enjoy." "Thanks," Mulder said absently, staring at the IDs. Then he glanced up. "Did you get those plates registered?" "Yup," Langly confirmed, walking to a metal cabinet and pulling out a set of license plates. "Don't even ask how we got these," Byers editorialized, "but we got them. And don't worry -- they're registered, and they weren't taken off a car." Mulder didn't ask and took the plates from Byers. "Thanks," Scully said in genuine gratitude. "Did you get anything else on those names we gave you?" "Nothing." Scully arched her eyebrow in surprise. "But we'll keep looking and call you as soon as we find anything." Langly finished hurriedly. She nodded, her eyes holding a distant look as she resigned herself to their words. Then a sudden thought brought her back to reality. "Come on, Mulder, we have to go," she murmured, squeezing his hand. "Thanks again, guys," Mulder said, walking with Scully toward the door. "Don't mention it," Byers called. "I'm going back to bed..." Langly remarked, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. "Hey Scully..." Frohike called. She turned. "I'll miss your hair." Not knowing what to say, she blinked, then said "Thanks" quietly, more for the help than for the compliment. The door closed, and Scully listened for the first time as the locks slid back into place. It was odd, knowing that a little thing like that could so affect her. But the locks on the door only reinforced her feeling of shutting the door on her life. For as long as it took to solve this case, anyway, she was disappearing from the world that had been her life. She was alone. Except for Mulder. She had always counted on the assurance that no matter what, he would always be there. They were all they had left now. But that thought wasn't as horrible as Scully would've imagined it to be. As it would've been four years ago. "Scully?" Mulder's quiet voice broke through her thoughts. She looked up as her eyes came to focus on his face. He watched her tenderly, concern highlighting his features. She looked down again and let out a ragged sigh. Then she saw his hand, stretched out to meet hers. She looked up to see his face, smiling at her in support and understanding. Scully took Mulder's hand and their eyes met. Without a word, the two walked together to the car -- and their new identity. Title - Kismet (2/3) Author - Jaimee Kidder ========================= A.D. Skinner's office 7:36 p.m. ========================= The phone rang. Assistant Director Walter Skinner stared at it meditatively, wondering if the world as he knew it would end if he just smashed the idiotic thing to bits. Nah. He'd probably just wind up in a mental institution. The phone rang again. Mentally cursing Alexander Graham Bell, Skinner picked up the receiver. "Skinner." "Sir, it's Scully." As if that explained the purpose of the call. "What is it, Agent Scully?" "It's Agent Mulder." Skinner sat up straighter, picking up on a barely concealed panic that underlined Scully's quiet tone. She took a breath and went on. "We've been on this case --" "The murder...the one in Alabama." "That's right. Yesterday, we received a call from Assistant Director Kersh. He informed us that the case had been closed and that we should report back to the Bureau as soon as possible." "Go on," Skinner directed, wondering anxiously where this was heading. "Agent Mulder...strongly felt that the case had been mishandled, and that it was a cover-up for a greater purpose. I had begun to agree with him...in fact, that belief was strengthened by several attempts on both of our lives. "But somewhere between Alabama and here, something happened. To Agent Mulder. He's been talking strangely, and has nearly run off the road -- intentionally, I believe. He threatened me with bodily harm not an hour ago." Skinner stood up. "Where are you both now, Agent Scully?" "Roanoke...the Days Inn right off of Interstate 81. Exit 146. Please get here as soon as you can, sir. There's a lake about a mile away...he keeps talking about it...saying he want to drive straight to hell." Skinner's breath caught. "Where is Agent Mulder?" "Taking a shower. I thought this would be a good time to call you." Only then did Skinner notice that Scully had been speaking unusually quietly during their conversation. "All right, Scully, I'll be there as soon --" The sound of a door crashing open was clearly audible over the phone. "Mulder --" Scully's cell phone dropped to the carpet with a soft thud. "Scully! Agent Scully! What's going on?" "Mulder! Let me go!" "Who you talkin' to? Huh?" "I don't know what you're talking ab--" The rest was cut off as Scully gasped. "Maybe talking to Kersh? Tellin' him all about our case? *My* case?" "Mulder, we need to get you to a hospital...please...let me go..." "Agent Mulder!" "Let...me...go!" More struggling sounds could be heard plainly over the phone. Skinner was unable to move as he pressed the receiver to his unbelieving ear. Then there was a hard thud against a wall and the sound of a punch. Mulder moaned angrily. "Sir! I need help!" Running footsteps and the sound of drawers being frantically opened, then Scully's voice again, screaming incredulously, with angry tears obvious in her voice, "My gun! Mulder, you took my gun!" Click. Scully was unable to stifle a sob. Then, "Mulder, put it down." Slowly, calmly, the way she learned at Quantico. The part of Skinner's mind that wasn't thinking about the danger she was in held admiration for Scully. Another punch, this one harder, and the sound of someone collapsing on the floor. Scully howled in pain, her voice close to where the phone lay on the floor. She was furious now. "Put the gun down! Mulder, drop it! *Now,* you son of a --" A gunshot. A cry of pain ripped through the phone. Heavy footsteps were becoming more and more audible. Then a crunching sound, and the line went dead. Skinner remained standing, stunned out of all capability to move. Then, snapped out of his horrified trance, Skinner slammed the phone into the cradle and threw the office door open. His secretary looked up, surprised. "Kimberly! Get on the phone!" ========================= 10:47 p.m. Days Inn Roanoke ========================= The door on motel room 116 burst open and a team of FBI agents swarmed in. Skinner came in last, unwilling to admit to himself that he was afraid. His fears were more than justified. The scene that met his eyes looked like any one of the hundreds of violent crime cases he'd handled. But this one was different. Working on so many horrific cases bred a sort of survival instinct -- learning to detach oneself from the cases and deal with them in a cool, professional manner. That ability was the only thing that kept Skinner from leaving the room. Forcing himself to view each detail in the room as though he was looking at a series of crime scene photographs, he walked slowly through the doorway and into the room. Two broken lamps. The shower curtain and bathroom door hanging open and a fist- sized dent in the wall where the doorknob had smashed against it. Watery footprints leading from the bathroom in long, purposeful strides. Wrinkled, disheveled twin beds that looked like they had been jumped on a couple of times by a two-year-old. All the drawers in the cabinet yanked open and hanging ajar, with the few contents scattered on the floor. A dried pool of blood on the floor near the dresser with a trail leading out the door to the parking lot. A crushed cell phone, lying where it had been dropped on the floor. Skinner could only imagine what had happened, but he couldn't imagine why in his wildest nightmare. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully not to remember the scene as it had unfolded over the phone. "Sir! We've found a trail!" Skinner pulled himself up and followed the agent out the door and into a car, tiredly resigned to listening to the endless torrent of information. "It was a...'98 Camry. Beige. Judging by the marks in the dust, we figure your guy dragged her out to the car. Now you said the guy had mentioned something about the nearby lake. The road leading to Carvins Cove Reservoir, a few minutes away, was the first place we checked. And we got lucky. Good thing your guy's a predictable psycho," he chuckled. "Understand one thing," Skinner exploded quietly. "This is not a game; it is a case. And their names are Agent Mulder and Agent Scully. You will refer to them as such. Is this clear?" The agent nodded, slightly confused but unfazed. "Anyway, we found tire tracks at the end of this road, and...well, you can see for yourself." They parked at the end of the road. Skinner quickly got out of the car and stood up. Clearly visible in the tall, weedy grass were tire tracks. He stared for a second at the tracks, then followed them the remaining 100 yards or so to the shore, hoping as he ran that maybe he would find the car parked somewhere in the grass. Finally he reached the shore and stopped cold. The tire tracks went completely into the lake. Skinner was unable to do anything but stand there, staring blankly into the quiet water. ========================= A.D. Skinner's office Thursday, August 19 12:52 p.m. ========================= Skinner sat at his desk, going over the agent's preliminary report for the thousandth time. It took all his effort to maintain a professional attitude towards the case. Flipping back to the first page of the report, he began to read through it again. The report was fairly thorough. It listed possible scenarios for what had happened that night, possible motivations for the suspect, and a recommended course of action. It was confirmed by forensics that the blood on the carpet in the room did indeed belong to Agent Scully. The car had not been found yet. As denial faded and hopelessness set in, Skinner flicked the report closed and sighed. ========================= Margaret Scully's residence 1:32 p.m. ========================= Maggie Scully wandered into her bedroom with a steaming cup of tea and glanced out the window. She loved storms, especially on days when there was nothing to do and she could curl up in bed with a book and something warm to drink -- exactly what she was planning on doing now. She hopped onto the big comfy bed and leaned against the chubby pillows, just enjoying listening to the sound of the rain and the occasional rumble of distant thunder. After a minute, she realized that the wind was picking up and the thunder was getting louder. She picked up the remote control and flicked on the television, checking to see if the news had anything to say about the storm. A perky reporter was talking. "...current trends are expected to continue well into the coming year." The camera cut back to the studio. The anchorwoman looked back at the camera as a small video box with a picture of a woman popped up in the upper right corner of the screen. Maggie squinted at it, gathering her blanket closer around her shoulders. Then her eyes widened and she gasped involuntarily as she suddenly recognized the face on the screen. "Dana?" Fear chilling her blood, she sat up, unable to move any farther. "Meanwhile, there are no current leads in the investigation into the abduction and possible murder of F.B.I. Special Agent Dana Scully." Maggie sat, paralyzed, powerless to take her eyes off the TV screen.