PEACE OF MIND (1/15) by Thalia D'Muse Summary: Mulder and Scully travel to the Pacific Northwest to investigate two fiery and unexplained deaths, but the agents soon realize that the case hits a little too close to home. Takes place before Season 4. Classification/Rating: XRA, R (for language, disturbing imagery and adult situations) - with NC-17 and R versions of Part 11, which will be clearly marked. Spoilers: Some Season 3 spoilers. Shipper Warning: Forgive me my fellow shippers, for I have sinned. In this story, I have placed our beloved Mulder in the bed of another woman. But never fear, my friends, because there's oodles of UST here. And besides, things have a way of working out in the end... Archivists/Newsgroups: I give permission for 'Peace of Mind' to be posted on the archives and newsgroups as long as my name, e- mail addy and intro remain intact. Disclaimer: The characters Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and any others you recognize from the XF universe are not mine. Bummer. They belong to an aging surfer, a TV production company with a bunch of numbers in its name, and a big corporation named for a small furry animal. Any other characters are mine and I'm still trying to figure out how they made it out from the deep, dark recesses of my mind. Usually the security around there is pretty tight... Author's Notes: All rejoice, this story is finally done! I've been working on this bad boy for nine, count 'em, nine months. Mucho research went into this one, so much of what you read in here about governmental experiments on humans is taken from actual documented case studies. However, with this being fanfic and all, I did take a few of these facts and stretch them like Silly-Putty. Any medical or scientific theories in this story are based more on the musings of my overactive (and quite twisted) imagination than they are on fact. Hey, that's what put the 'lie' in creative li(e)cense. I can't even begin to adequately thank my beta readers for their constant support and patience. KL, Charli & Rhoni: you gals are simply the best! Feedback... gimme, gimme feedback. Send all comments, suggestions, constructive criticism or barbeque sauce recipes to . Must...have...more...e-mail... And now, may I present the unique stylings of: PEACE OF MIND (1/15) by Thalia D'Muse Wooded area by river front Prescott, WA June 12, 11:50pm "Damn!" Tina raised an index finger to her weather-chapped lips and slowly sucked on the fingertip. *Goddamn matches. Gotta get me a lighter,* she thought as she struck another match, this one igniting in a bright orange flame. She watched as the flame ate away at the match stick, her muddy brown eyes following the charred pieces as they shriveled and floated to the ground. Before the fire could completely die down, she lit the joint and took a long drag, silently delighting in the taste. Tina held her breath for a moment, listening to the sounds of the river flowing behind her and watching white smoke float away on the breeze. She slowly exhaled. She inhaled again, this time watching the tall red cedar trees moving in the breeze, their long limbs dipping down as if to touch her, and she reached a hand up to meet them. A strong wind lifted her long brown hair up, placing it back down in her eyes, but she made no attempt to remove it. Once considered pretty by her family and friends, Tina's face had long since been drained of its youthful glow and simple beauty. She had stopped caring years ago; she was much too old for her 14 years. Tina was about to take another drag when the familiar voice entered her head. *Tina, it's time now. It's time to meet your fate, to find your peace.* *Not now, not yet. Just let me finish this one,* she thought, raising the joint to her lips. *Now, Tina, now,* the low monotone voice bellowed in her mind. "Alright." She rose from the ground and walked to a cluster of trees to her left. The rustling cedars and rolling river performed for her a melancholy symphony, the perfect setting for her to find her peace. *Finally, peace.* "OK, I'm ready," she said to the disembodied voice. She stood with her legs slightly apart, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, held it, then slowly let it out just as she heard a low hum in the air. Her eyes snapped open and she came face to face with a small circle of white light. The light floated around her head, zipping to the left, then the right, up and down. The light's intensity hurt her eyes, but she couldn't look away. She followed the circle's dance until it suddenly reached out, extending itself to her body, slamming into her chest with such force that she was knocked to the ground. She felt a sharp pain in her left breast, but she didn't scream. Tina could feel the light penetrating her entire body. Her hair and clothing had caught fire, but she barely noticed. She was too focused on the beam as it explored every inch of her, as a lover would explore his soulmate's body for the first time. She felt an incredible warmth, but not from the fire engulfing her ragged form. Tina felt...at peace. Finally, peace. ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- Deserted roadway Eltopia, WA June 13, 12:00am Gravel crunched under her worn shoes. Lisa yanked at her flannel workshirt, flipping the collar up to protect her neck from the cold, brisk wind. The thin, frizzy-haired girl shoved her hands in her jeans pockets. She was about a 10-minute walk from the 7-11, and she was starving. Her small hands emerged with $1.87 in quarters, dimes and pennies, a stick of spearmint gum and a folded white card. *Got enough for a couple hot dogs and a Coke.* She returned everything to her pockets except for the card, which she unfolded. "Hope you guys call soon. I need the cash," she said aloud. *Not to mention the Pill.* Her thin lips formed a crooked smile. She called it her 'Happy Pill'. The guys in the lab coats had some long, complicated medical name for it, but she didn't care what it was called. She only cared about what it did. It made her feel happy, completely content. Totally at peace. The Lab Coats promised her this pill for a few hours' time. She put up with their poking and prodding, their needles and lengthy exams, knowing when it was over she would get her pill. And her money. Lisa stopped short when she heard the low hum coming from the trees ahead of her. She cautiously walked to the pines, staring up past their tops into the clear night sky. A voice hovered in her ears: *Now is the time, Lisa. Now is the time to find your peace.* She immediately recognized the voice. The Happy Pill Man's voice. She had never seen the person attached to the voice, but it was decidedly masculine, a baritone voice with no emotion. A bright light appeared between two tall pines and descended to her eye level. Lisa started walking toward it, gazing curiously at the white light dancing in front of her big green eyes. She was so mesmerized that she almost missed seeing the light lunging at her, hitting her chest. Lisa stumbled backward, but managed to stay standing. Almost as suddenly as the light appeared, she felt a warmth flowing through her body, offering her a serenity she had never known. She dropped to her knees, but felt no pain. Lisa felt nothing but peace. Finally, peace. ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- The friendly skies over Washington State June 14, 8:10am Dana Scully studied the file folder in front of her. Her brow furrowed as she read and reread the preliminary details, amazed that so many pieces of paper could say so little. *These reports don't make any sense.* She flipped to the next page. *Guess that's why we got them.* Raising her auburn-tressed head, she looked to her right at her sleeping partner. His loudly-colored tie was loosened and the first button of his collar undone. His dry lips were slightly parted and Scully could hear his calm, measured breathing. *How can he sleep?* she thought, shaking her head. *He calls me at the crack of dawn, books us on the first flight out, tells me I have a half hour to pack a suitcase, and now he sleeps.* She watched her partner's chest contracting and expanding as he breathed, his white shirt crinkling with the movement. Although they were not romantically involved, Scully considered her relationship with Fox Mulder to be the most important in her life. They were best friends; she had shared with him details of her life that she dare not tell another soul. In turn, Scully knew more about her partner's hopes and fears than anyone on this earth. However, she admitted, he was still a mystery to her. They way his mind worked, the dark, tortured place he went when reality became too much -- these were things she did not know, and may never know, about him. *Maybe it's better that way.* As if feeling her gaze upon him, Mulder's hazel eyes lazily opened and locked with Scully's baby blues. He smiled briefly before his face was overcome by a yawn. He shifted his lanky form in the airline seat. "What's the matter, Scully, was I snoring?" "No, just drooling." Mulder's mouth formed the familiar lopsided grin that Scully had learned to either welcome or question, depending on his mood. She shifted her body so that she was partially facing him, kicking her brown pumps off, and tucking one leg under her body, hiding it under her knee-length beige skirt. "So, Mulder, you haven't shared your thoughts about these," she said, lifting the file from her lap. He gave her his best 'wounded-puppy' look, his eyes sad and his bottom lip jutting out into a pout. "Don't I get to wake up first?" "No. Talk." Scully folded her arms across her chest. He chuckled, looking down at his dark blue dress slacks, finding some invisible lint to flick off with his fingertips. "Nope. First tell me what you think." Scully sighed. She knew this routine all too well. Mulder would listen to her scientific, fully fact-based theories, then he would interject his outlandish, science-fiction-based theories. Then each would try to discount the other's conclusions. Scully swore that he really enjoyed the banter. *Come to think of it, so do I, * she thought. "OK, Mulder, I'll bite." His smile turned seductive. "Oooh, sounds kinky. Do I get to decide where?" It was her turn to shoot him a look: her patented 'I-don't-think- so-only-in-your-dreams' look. She lifted the bulky file from her lap, opening it to reveal several typed pages, police reports and various other bureaucratic forms of red tape. A seriousness washed over her young face, making her look years older. "From these reports, I see two very similar deaths. Both victims died about the same time and were found within 50 miles of each other." She raised her eyes to his face. "Right up your alley, eh, Mulder?" Mulder laughed, then leaned toward Scully, his face just inches from hers. "Go with it, Scully." She turned her head back to the file, clearing her throat. "Both victims were female, between the ages of twelve and seventeen. My guess is they're runaways, since there are no missing persons reports filed within the last twenty-four hours in the area." She flipped back and forth between pages, mostly for dramatic effect. She had scanned these reports so many times that she practically had them memorized. "Both victims appear to have died from some kind of extreme electrical combustion," she said, lifting her head in time to see a sparkle in her partner's big eyes. "Scully," he said as he touched her forearm, "I'm so glad you said 'combustion'." Scully rolled her eyes. *Uh, oh. Here it comes, the Mulder whammy.* He pulled his hand from where it rested on Scully's bare arm and raised his index finger. "Combustion is _exactly_ what I was thinking. _Spontaneous human_ combustion, to be exact." She stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." She scanned his face for signs of sarcasm, but found none. *He _is_ serious,* she thought incredulously. Scully lowered the files to her lap again. "Mulder, most spontaneous combustion cases can be explained with purely scientific and logical explanations. Most cases involve victims who are alcoholics that caught fire by some external ignition source, like a fireplace spark or a nearby candle flame." Mulder raised his index finger again. "_Most_ cases, Scully, but not all. There are several cases throughout recent history that still defy logical explanation." "Come on, Mulder," she said, shaking her head. "No, really. Case in point: In 1951, Mary Reesers' body was found almost reduced to ashes. The only thing left was a vertebra, her left foot and her skull, which had been shrunken to the size of a baseball." "Sounds more like a headhunter did her in," Scully mumbled. He shot her a contemptuous look, but hardly missed a beat. "Investigators found no alcohol or any combustible substances around her. And almost none of the surroundings in her apartment were burned. To this day, they cannot find a logical explanation for her death." Mulder tried to read his partner's face for a reaction, but was met by her 'Mulder-you're-nuts' look that he had come to know so well. He watched the smattering of freckles on her face dance about as she crinkled her nose, obviously trying to find a diplomatic way of telling him that he was a few tacos short of a combo plate. Scully sighed impatiently. "Mulder, just because they didn't find alcohol near her body doesn't mean she wasn't an alcoholic. And anyway, the Reeser case has no bearing on these. All documented cases of spontaneous combustion have occurred indoors, and both of these girls died outside." He started to speak, but Scully raised her hand in front of her. "_And_ these girls' bodies were burned beyond recognition. Whole body cases of spontaneous combustion are extremely rare." She lowered her hand, resting it on the olive-green folder in her lap. He ran his fingers through his thick brown hair. "OK, maybe I don't have all the details worked out. But you can't explain the fires, either, Scully. There were no reported lightning strikes in either area and no campfires nearby." "Police found a book of matches at the" -- she flipped to a page in the file -- "Prescott site." "But nothing at the Eltopia site. No lighter, no matches, nothing. Also, a witness came forward in Eltopia. He said he saw a bright flash of light around midnight that same night." Mulder stared intently at his partner's face. Her full lips were pursed, her tongue briefly darting out to wet them. Her square jaw was slightly clenched, not in anger but in thought. Her ice- blue eyes stared at him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. The look on her face could be mistaken as being seductive, but he knew better. *Damn, she's good at this.* "Scully, even if you don't buy the spontaneous combustion theory, you still have to admit that these deaths are not ordinary." He kept his eyes locked on hers, refusing to give in. Scully was just as determined to win this staring contest as he, but she found it increasingly difficult to stare into his deep, soulful eyes without losing herself in them. A short chime sounded in the aircraft, and a sultry female voice informed the passengers of their impending landing. Scully used the announcement as an excuse to break eye contact with her partner. She moved to sit forward again, stretching her legs, then quickly shoved the files into the briefcase sitting at her feet. "I don't know, Mulder. I'm saving any conclusions until I've had a chance to see those bodies." "Fine with me, Scully. Looks like you'll get to _dig_ into those autopsies soon enough." Mulder sat back and smiled. ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- --------------------Continued in Part 2-------------------- PEACE OF MIND (2/15) by Thalia D'Muse --see disclaimer in Part 1-- Interstate 182 Washington State June 14, 8:45am After landing at Tri Cities Airport in Pasco, the agents rented their usual car of choice, a Ford Taurus, and headed down Interstate 182 toward Richland, both admiring the dense forest surroundings. The black asphalt was the only sign of human existence, an angry dark strip searing through the lush green landscape. Scully turned her head toward her partner. "I'm glad the coroner had the foresight to do a PMCT before it was too late," she said, brushing a stray auburn strand from her eyes. "A PM-what?" Mulder turned his face toward her, shooting her an 'in-English-please' look. She chuckled. "Sorry, Mulder. Sometimes I forget you're not a pathologist, although your sense of humor can be just as morose." She could see out of the corner of her eye that Mulder's mouth was curling up into a grin. *Unbelievable! He thinks it was a compliment!* Mentally shrugging her amazement, she continued, her voice taking on the strong, knowing tone of an instructor. "A PMCT is a Post Mortem Computer Tomography. It's basically a whole-body x-ray. Sometimes it can reveal findings that a conventional autopsy cannot. We missed the six-hour window of opportunity on the Prescott victim, since she wasn't found until several hours later. But it seems we made it on the Eltopia one." Mulder nodded, his eyes staring straight ahead but occasionally drinking in the forest landscape. "Hey, Scully, from the descriptions of the bodies, looks like the coroner here was up to his elbows in 'goo', right?" He turned his head to see if his choice of words had an effect on his prim-and-proper partner. Much to his dismay, her expression remained stony and, as always, very professional. Scully cleared her throat. "I assume from 'goo' that you mean the extreme deterioration of the bodies. You're right, I'm sure it wasn't pretty, considering almost all of the epidermis was destroyed and many organs were severely damaged." She tried to stifle a yawn, but failed miserably. Seeing this, Mulder said softly, "Hey, why don't we head to the hotel first and check in. Saves us from having to do it later tonight." Scully smiled briefly. "Actually, partner, that's the best idea you've had all day." She yawned again and turned her head to the window. She had been watching the ponderosa pines that lined the interstate throughout the drive and marveled at their height and beauty. She had an overwhelming urge to roll down the window and hit the automatic button on the door, absorbing the scents of the tall green surroundings as the window descended. Scully closed her eyes. "Mmm, smells like Christmas out there. I love the smell of pine trees." Mulder's head whipped around to face her. "What? You said you hate the smell of pine." "No, Mulder. I hate the smell of that stupid pine deodorizer thing you hang from the rearview mirror." She pointed her thumb out the window. "Take a whiff. That's what a _real_ pine tree smells like." Mulder moved his head closer to the passenger side. His eyes became small slits and he crinkled his long nose, all the while making exaggerated sniffling sounds. "Humph. Real pine, indeed." ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- The 182 Inn Richland, WA June 14, 9:30am Mulder could tell that they were getting closer to Richland by the sudden multiplication of autos now on the highway. Their hotel was just inside of town, and thanks to the car rental agent's expert directions, he had little trouble finding it. 'The 182 Inn' was actually a group of ten rustic, cabin-like structures set back from the interstate, surrounded by forest on two sides. Each cabin had two entrances and housed two rooms with an adjoining door separating them inside. As they headed to their cabin, Scully turned to her partner, watching him fumble with the room key, his large hands trying unsuccessfully to grasp the tiny key before it hit the ground. Her eyes followed him as he bent at the waist to retrieve the key, and she found herself mentally gasping as his navy blue loose-cut trousers pulled tightly across his back side. She could feel the heat rise to her face and abruptly turned her head toward her door. Over the past few weeks, she had found herself having decidedly unprofessional thoughts about her partner. She had caught herself a few times staring at Mulder, studying his lean body, wondering what it would be like to wake up in his arms. She closed her eyes, thinking, *Why now? Why after almost four years are these feelings coming to the surface?* The only explanation she would allow her mind to infer was mental exhaustion. The last three cases were mentally draining, especially the Childers case. Byron Childers, a disgusting excuse for a human being, used young boys as his personal toys of pleasure before viciously murdering them. Scully performed autopsies on four of his victims, their small, mutilated bodies forever etched in her mind. She decided with conviction that her wandering thoughts about her partner were due to the fact that her brain was in desperate need of a vacation. She cleared her throat. "Uh, Mulder, give me about 15 minutes. I'd like to change." "Ah, Scully, don't change. You're perfect the way you are." He turned to her, giving her full view of his warm bright smile before winking at her. He entered the room and closed the door behind him. *Did he just wink at me?* Scully laughed to herself. Any other time, she might have thought that her partner was having 'wandering thoughts' of his own. But she saw the look on his face before he closed the door. As much of a mystery her partner was to her, she did know _that_ look. Mulder couldn't wait to dive into this case. For some reason, something had already gotten to him, some tiny little detail that she had rolled over and dismissed as insubstantial. This little detail had sent his brilliant, analytical mind reeling, and she knew he would not rest until they solved this one. With that one look, his entire appearance seemed to change right before her eyes. His eyes would display a twinkle that would turn his normally dark, despair-filled irises into a beautiful shade of hazel-green. And that smile! She loved to see that disarming smile on his usually drawn and emotionless face. With that one look, he looked so much like a little boy at Christmas that she almost hated bursting his bubble with an injection of her beloved science. _That_ smile and _those_ eyes served to remind Dana Scully what a devastatingly handsome man her partner really was. She rarely had the pleasure of seeing _that_ Fox Mulder. *That's probably a good thing.* She smiled to herself as she opened her room door, shocked to see the green and yellow 70s retro interior, complete with a green lava lamp on a tacky yellow plastic table. She sighed in disgust. *I have to stop letting him pick the hotels.* ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- Interstate 182 Between Richland and Eltopia, WA June 14, 9:45am Scully had changed into a loose cream-colored blouse and navy blue suit, silently wishing that she could go back in time and murder the inventor of panty hose before he had a chance to create the torture devices. She also took a few moments to glance in the mirror, quickly splashing some water on her face. With water still dripping from her chin, she deepened her stare at the mirror, seeing the tiny fine lines around her eyes and mouth. *When did those show up?* She sighed aloud, then walked through the room toward the door, grabbing her briefcase on the way. The Taurus, engine already humming, was directly in front of her room, and her partner's lanky form sat behind the wheel. She opening the passenger door and leaned in. "In a hurry, Mulder?" "Who, me? Never." His long fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel told her otherwise. She dropped into the seat and closed the door. Mulder's foot stomped on the accelerator immediately and they sped out of the parking lot, taking the right turn a little too fast for Scully's taste. "Jeez, Mulder. You can't be this anxious to see the bodies." "Actually I think I'll just drop you off at the M.E.'s office. I'd like to check out the Eltopia site first." Scully saw the thin smile form on his lips. *Something's up,* she thought suspiciously. She then decided it wasn't worth an argument. Mulder was going to do what he wanted, and she knew better than to get in his way. "Fine, just make it quick. I called the coroner, a Dr. Bernard Wilson. He said the tox reports wouldn't be done until after eleven, but the PMCT is back." "Yeah. Sounds good." They rode in silence the rest of the way, taking in the sights of the city. Richland, Washington appeared to be a smaller version of Seattle, complete with several strip malls, a gas station on every corner and a busy downtown business district. However, the forest-like surroundings still remained, giving it a more small- town atmosphere. Mulder pulled the car up in front of an imposing gray and white building on the corner of a busy intersection. At the top of the towering structure, the words 'County Offices' were etched in sharp serifed letters. Somewhere in that monolith of concrete and glass was the Medical Examiner's office. The agents exchanged quick good-byes and Scully headed toward the building's entrance. Mulder rushed the Taurus back into traffic, barely missing the rear end of a yellow cab that had stopped short. He mumbled an obscenity under his breath. He went over the cases in his head, his eidetic memory recalling each detail. 'Witness claimed seeing bright flash of light in sky.' This comment was a footnote in the police report, an afterthought. That was how the police were treating it, that was how Scully was treating it. *A bright flash of light in a cloudless, peaceful lightening-free sky,* he mused. Mulder shook his head to clear his thoughts. He wiped beads of sweat that had formed on his creased forehead and reached for the air conditioning controls. He looked out the side window, noticing he had left the hustle and bustle of the city and was once again surrounded by dense forest. He saw green blurs going by very quickly, too quickly in fact, and eyed the speedometer. *Eighty! Good, Mulder, get a speeding ticket and Scully will never let you live it down.* He released the accelerator and settled it on sixty-five. *Get ahold of yourself.* He took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds then letting it out, his lips forming an 'o'. *What is it about this case? It's just another X-File.* But Mulder knew there was no such thing as 'just another X-File' for him. They were all unique and they all touched him in different ways. And just like all the other X-Files, he had to find out what really happened at Prescott and Eltopia. He wanted, he needed, the truth. ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- Crime scene Eltopia, WA June 14, 10:20am "Where the hell is this place?" The police report sitting on the seat next to Mulder stated that the crime scene was along Interstate 182 just outside of Eltopia. *Well, that should narrow it down to about 20 or 30 miles,* he thought. He was about ready to give up and call the sheriff's office, but as he rounded a corner, he saw the familiar yellow tape draped around trees and knew he was in right place. As the road straightened in front of him, he saw several white sedans littering the side of the interstate, blue and red lights dancing through the towering pines. Mulder parked the Taurus across from squad cars and jogged across the otherwise deserted roadway. As he walked toward the yellow tape, Mulder was approached by a stocky, balding man not much taller than Scully. The man's wide, round face was in desperate need of a razor. His disheveled brown uniform shirt was untucked on one side, his enormous gut hanging over his belt, and the pants were stained at the knees. His black Rockports looked as if they had never seen a shoe buffer and the ends of the laces were frayed. "I'm Sheriff Thompson. Help ya?" Mulder reached inside his jacket and produced his ID wallet. "Fox Mulder, FBI. " Thompson eyed Mulder's badge, then extended a chubby, sweaty hand. Mulder grasped it quickly, wishing he could find a discreet way to wipe his hand on his slacks. *This guy's the sheriff,* he thought. *Who's the mayor, Boss Hogg?* "Have you found any additional evidence, sheriff?" "Not much. Combed almost a square mile and can't find nothin' I'd consider a solid clue." Thompson punctuated his last word with a hacking cough, which caused one of the already straining buttons on his shirt to pop off. Mulder's eyes followed the button to the ground, but Thompson was oblivious. *How did this bumpkin end up in the Pacific Northwest?* Mulder thought as he suspiciously eyed the sheriff. He hated to stereotype people, but sometimes his analytical mind couldn't help itself. He was all too familiar with people taking a first impression and running wildly with it, but the sheriff, with his slothful demeanor and chew tobacco breath, was too much of a temptation for Mulder's caustic wit. *'Fargo' meets 'Mayberry'.* The corners of Mulder's lips curved into a quick smile. Thompson turned his head to spit out a brown liquid, wiping his chin with shirt sleeve. "Aren't you supposed to be at the coroner's or somethin'?" "My partner is taking care of that." Mulder tipped his head toward an area being surveyed by another uniformed man. "Mind if I look around, Sheriff?" "Knock yerself out, Agent Muldoon." *Muldoon? This guy is _definitely_ 'Fargo' meets 'Mayberry' meets 'Twin Peaks'.* Mulder stifled a laugh and started toward the scorched ground between two pine trees, grabbing a latex glove from his jacket pocket and stretching it over his right hand. The browned grass was oblong in shape, about five feet in length. *Just about the size of a body,* he thought, trying to envision the young girl writhing in pain, trying to extinguish her burning body. Thompson walked up behind him. "I'll tell ya, Muldoon, this one's a real mystery. You shoulda seen the body. Hooo, boy, what a mess! Don't think I'll ever be able to have a cookout in the back yard again." The sheriff let out a sound that could only be described as a guffaw. Mulder smiled politely. "So, your guys haven't found any evidence?" "Well, we did find this," Thompson said, pulling from his shirt pocket a tiny plastic bag with a shiny silver object at the bottom. "Not sure if it's evidence or not, but it didn't look like it belonged in a forest, so I told 'em to bag and tag it." He placed it in Mulder's waiting hand. Mulder opened the bag and shook out the object. He examined the flat, oval piece of metal, noting that it was about a half-inch in diameter, smooth on one side and filled with rough ridges on the other. He brought the piece closer to his eyes to examine it. He was barely able to stop himself from gasping. "What do you think it is?" Thompson moved closer to Mulder, trying to get a better look. Mulder lowered the metal piece back into the plastic bag. "Not sure. Probably part of a necklace or something. But if you don't mind, I'd like to take this with me and have it analyzed." Thompson shrugged. "Sure. I'll mark it as evidence signed out to you. Was heading to my car anyway. This thing's had me out here since five o'clock and I'm starved. I keep a couple O-Henry bars in the glove compartment. You never know," he laughed. He shook Mulder's hand again, then waddled back toward the roadside. Mulder shook his head as he squatted next to burned grass, running his fingers along the ground, then bringing them to his nose. He knew this smell. The smell of Death. The burned skin, the singed hair, the metallic scent of blood all permeated his nostrils, sending a chill up his spine. He got up, stretching his long legs for a second, then started back toward the interstate. Before he reached the edge of the asphalt, a car horn blared to his left. He turned to see one fat hand waving, the other surrounding a half-eaten candy bar. Mulder waved back, then turned his head to laugh. *Now _there's_ an X- File.* ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- --------------------Continued in Part 3-------------------- PEACE OF MIND (3/15) by Thalia D'Muse --see disclaimer in Part 1-- County Medical Examiners Office Richland, WA June 14, 11:20am Parking near the entrance of the County building, Mulder fed the parking meter and entered the looming concrete structure, surprised by the warmth of the decor inside. Plush gray and brown flecked carpet lined the floors and colossal hand-painted murals depicting wildlife in colorful forest settings swept across the walls. Mulder eyed the nearby directory, learning that the M.E.'s office occupied the entire basement, and headed down the stairwell. Entering the main reception area, he found the office equally as inviting, tastefully decorated in muted blues, pinks and grays. The receptionist, who cheerfully introduced herself as "Mindi, with an i," was smartly dressed in a black silk fitted suit and a rose-colored silk blouse and blended in well with the decor. Mindi-with-an-i walked Mulder down a long corridor to a gray windowless door marked 'Prep Room'. She gave him one last show of teeth, told him to 'have a great day', then abruptly left him to fend for himself. He pushed open the prep room door, finding that the decor here matched the building's behemoth facade. The office was a study in drab: gray walls and ceiling, silver government-issue metal desks with matching charcoal gray chairs. A few splashes of color were sprinkled throughout, mostly in the form of color-coded file folders and specimen jars lids. "Can I help you?" The sound of the soft, nasal voice was followed by shoes clicking on the gray and white speckled floor. A tall, painfully thin man appeared from behind a group of large metal filing cabinets. His charcoal gray slacks were a sharp contrast to his pasty white complexion, white lab coat and shock of white hair. As he approached Mulder, he extended a bony hand. "Oh, you must be Agent Mulder. Agent Scully said you would be by soon. I'm Bernard Wilson, the county coroner." "Nice to meet you, Dr. Wilson," Mulder said, shaking his hand. "Is Agent Scully finished?" "She's just finishing up now." Wilson pushed his thick wire- rimmed glasses back into place, his long Roman nose scrunching in reflex. "And might I say," Wilson whispered, leaning in toward Mulder, "Agent Scully is quite a pistol, isn't she? Now mind you, I'm not used to working with female pathologists much, but she's a good one. Very thorough, very professional." Mulder cracked a smile. "That's Scully, all right." As if on cue, Scully emerged from a set of massive steel doors, still dressed in her medical scrubs and white lab coat, her hair pulled back in a short ponytail. Mulder noticed that even in autopsy attire, his partner left more of an impact in his brain than the long-legged, silk-clad receptionist. "Good timing, Mulder." She removed her glasses and shoved them into her lab coat pocket. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Wilson interrupted. "Oh, Agent Scully, the lab called a few moments ago. The tox reports are done. I was just on my way down there when Agent Mulder arrived. I'll be right back." Wilson quickly shuffled out of the room. Scully smiled as she watched him leave. "He sounds like the absent-minded professor, but he really is a very efficient pathologist," Scully said as she removed the barrette from her hair, fluffing the auburn strands as they fell to her shoulders. "He's the one who ordered the PMCT and he performed one of the most thorough autopsies I've ever seen. He thought of everything." "The enigmatic Dr. Scully's stamp of approval. He must be good." Mulder's comment earned him an elbow in the ribs from his partner. "Come on. It's time for you to view the goo," Scully said lightly as she started toward the steel doors. Mulder scrunched his face up in mock disgust. "Can't you just give me a verbal report?" "No." She laughed as she grabbed his jacket sleeve, pulling him through the doors. Stark white walls surrounded them, the smell of formaldehyde and antiseptic assaulting their nostrils. Two long steel tables sat almost end to end in the room's center, and movable steel trays were scattered around the tables. Long white Formica counters, most with large steel sinks attached, lined the walls. The room was as cold and sterile as any other autopsy facilities they had seen. However, on the steel table near the far wall was a sight Mulder was completely unprepared to see. To say that the body before him was burned was an understatement. Where there should have been a distinct human body, there was a dark red mass. The body should have been covered in skin, but instead was shrouded in a thick, sticky red mucous. He could barely see where the head ended and the torso began. Mulder immediately thought of the movie 'The Blob.' Only this 'blob' before him was human. Or used to be. It wasn't so much the sight of the body that disturbed him; it was the thought of being eaten alive by fire, to have flames consume hair and flesh, leaving nothing but excruciating pain in its path. He could hear the girl's screams as the flames licked away at her body. He could hear her begging to die, anything to stop the pain. He shuddered. "My God, Scully," he whispered. "I know," she said softly. "This one was hard even for me. The Prescott body was not as badly deteriorated." Confusion washed over his face as he managed to pull his eyes from the body to meet Scully's gaze. "You mean this is the one from Eltopia?" He watched his partner's head barely dip into a nod, then shook his own head in disbelief. "I was just there, Scully. The only signs of fire was a scorched area about five feet around." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? There had to be a larger burn area." "I'm positive. That was the only section burned. The local sheriff's office combed an area a mile wide." Scully crossed her arms in front of her. "But these burns were from an intensely hot blaze. A fire that hot wouldn't be contained in a five-foot area, especially in the middle of a forest." Both sets of eyes floated back to the body. "Not one tree around there was burned, Scully. Just a small patch of ground." He sucked in a breath, then released it slowly. "So Doc, how did these girls die?" She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "So far as I can tell, it was by blunt force trauma." Seeing his confusion, she started to approach the body. "Come here, I want to show you something." Mulder followed, his nose crinkling as the foul smell from the form on the table grew more potent. "It seems that a blunt object hit the victim here," she said, pointing to an area that at one time had been the chest. "This object not only hit the body with incredible force, but it actually managed to _sear_ through the skin and into the chest cavity. Every major organ was, for lack of a better term, cooked." "Remind me not to return my RSVP for the office barbecue," Mulder mumbled. She grabbed an x-ray sitting on the nearby tray. "You can see on the PMCT film the point of entrance," she said, pointing to a barely recognizable two-inch hole just above the heart. "And right here," she said pointing to another area on the x-ray, "these are some rather strange indentations on the breast bone. I don't think they're degenerative, judging from the shape. I think they were caused by some extreme pressure." Mulder unconsciously ran his hand through his hair. "What could cause this?" Scully raised her head, meeting his gaze. He saw reluctance and confusion in her normally confident eyes. "I don't know, Mulder." An eerie blanket of silence covered the room, making the remains on the table seem even more ominous. Both agents jumped in surprise when Wilson pushed through the steel doors, leaving them to clank together behind him. "Very interesting, very interesting," Wilson exclaimed as he approached the agents, passing a report to Scully. "Maybe you ought to sit down for this. The lab tech repeated the tests three times to make sure it wasn't a mistake." Scully took another glance at Mulder as she grasped the printout. She quickly scanned through the report, her eyes growing wider with each sentence. She looked at Wilson, releasing the breath she suddenly realized she was holding. "I...I can see the clomipramine, but these...these others..." Her voice trailed off as she flipped to the second page. "This can't be right." She raised her head, looking to Wilson for support, but her gaze was met by his equally bewildered expression. "I'm at a loss on this one, too, Agent Scully. I also checked the Prescott victim's tox report. Almost identical to this one." "What's going on, Scully? What's clomipramine?" Mulder said slowly, never taking his eyes off his partner's concerned face. Scully opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. Wilson cleared his throat. "Clomipramine is a tricyclic antidepressant used to treat severe depression. It is absorbed by the small intestine usually within six hours after ingestion." He paused long enough to remove his glasses, roughly scratching one eye with the palm of his hand. "We got more than a trace reading, so it had probably been about 12 hours since the last dose." Still engrossed in the toxicology report, Scully was unable to shake the disbelief from her head. "The concentration of plutonium in this body is dangerously high. It has to be a mistake." Mulder's eyes grew wider. "Wait a minute. How did we get from an antidepressant drug to plutonium? What the hell is plutonium doing in a teenager's body?" Scully's head suddenly felt heavy, and she had trouble raising it to meet her partner's quizzical gaze. "I have no idea, Mulder." "Had to have been administered intravenously, and frequently, to build up a concentration like that," Wilson said, returning his glasses to the bridge of his nose. "But I don't understand how their bodies tolerated it. The plutonium concentrations here are at toxic levels." Silence once again surrounded all three occupants as they stood staring at each other, eyes wide with wonder, and faces rigid in thought. The only sound heard was the cooling system purring above their heads. After several minutes, Mulder mentally shook away his confusion and reluctantly reached into his jacket pocket, extracting the small plastic bag. He carefully placed it in Scully's hand. "I found this in Eltopia. I think you should have a look at it." She opened the bag and after retrieving the metal piece, she raised it above her head. Mulder watched as she looked at it in the light, her eyes squinting to see the minute details. He then saw the color drain from his partner's face, her skin turning to the color of paste. She lowered her shaking hand and spotted a microscope sitting on one of the white countertops. She stiffly walked across the room, with Mulder not far behind. Placing the metal object on the glass, she looked through the eyepiece, focusing it down. Her gasp sent a chill down Mulder's spine. She took a few steps back, her stunned gaze still glued to the microscope. "Is it what I think it is?" His voice was barely above a whisper. Raising a hand to her lips, she nodded. Mulder watched her face become stormy, as if a dark cloud had floated in to loom over her head. With her slumped shoulders and wide, child-like eyes, Mulder suddenly thought she looked small, even frail. Even though she was nearly a foot shorter than him, Mulder had never considered Scully to be a small person. Her diminutive stature was quickly overshadowed by her strong presence and her confident attitude, not to mention her booming alto voice, which was capable of intimidating the biggest of men. He reluctantly pulled his gaze from her and looked to the microscope. He stepped forward and peered through the eyepiece. He quickly squeezed his eyes shut, not needing to see any more. "A computer chip." "An implant, Mulder," she whispered. He turned to her, carefully guiding her from the microscope, his hand resting on the small of her back. Mulder's stomach lurched up toward his throat. "But...this doesn't look anything like the one you..." He stopped when he saw her flinch. She drew in a ragged breath. "Does it matter?" Wilson quickly moved to the microscope, removing his glasses. "I'll be damned. I wonder why we didn't find this in the body," he said, knowing he would not receive an answer. Scully's piercing gaze continued on the microscope. She was desperately trying to hang on to some semblance of professionalism, but she felt her self-control slipping away. Mulder brought his hands to her slumped shoulders. "Scully, we don't know that it's an implant. It could be a...a..." "A what, Mulder?! What else could it be?" She flinched when she realized she was shouting. "It's okay," he said, trying his best to keep his voice calm. "We'll find out exactly what it is. We'll find the answers." Wilson quietly observed the agents, smiling as he watched Mulder whisper reassuring words to her, trying to wipe the despair from her tortured face. The willowy coroner scratched at a tuft of white hair behind his ear. *These kids are partners in the truest sense of the word.* Reluctantly, he interrupted. "I must say, in my thirty-some years as a pathologist, I have never seen a case like this." "Welcome to our world, Dr. Wilson," Mulder said with a thin smile. The invisible ribbon of fear that had entwined Scully's body for what seemed an eternity began to fall away. She inhaled deeply, then pulled back from Mulder and quickly walked to a windowed door. "Give me a minute, Dr. Wilson, and I'll help you clean up." "Oh, that's not necessary," Wilson said, waving his hand. Mulder looked at his watch. "Uh, Scully, I made an appointment with the Eltopia witness. He's expecting me around twelve- thirty." "Fine, I'll go with you," she barked out, eyeing the wall clock. "No, I'll just drop you off at the hotel and..." Scully's hands immediately jumped to her hips. "Mulder, I'm going with you. This is _our_ case." He started to protest, but the forceful look in her eyes stopped him. He was trying to protect her again, and _that_ look told him to knock it off. *The world hath no fury like a Scully scared.* Wilson smiled at the agents' brief exchange, then quietly moved to retrieved the mysterious piece of metal. Mulder stopped him. "That's OK, Dr. Wilson. We'd like to send this in to our labs for analysis. No offense." Wilson nodded. "None taken, Agent Mulder. I understand completely." Scully approached the coroner, extending her hand. "Dr. Wilson, I want to thank you for your help. I only wish we had more answers than questions. Nameless corpses are the most haunting part of this job." Wilson's eyes grew wide. "Oh, yes, I almost forgot! We might be able to get some help on the ID part. I took the liberty of phoning a friend at WSU. She's developed a computer program that can rebuild a victim's face by using vital stats, tissue samples, any data we can provide. Dr. Moore is a wonderful forensic anthropologist, one of the top in her field. Used to be with the FBI, as a matter of fact." Scully arched a delicate eyebrow. "Dr. _Sarah_ Moore." Wilson's face brightened. "Why, yes, do you know her?" "Yes, I did know her, but I...I haven't heard from her in years." Wilson's excitement brimmed over. "Wonderful! She has a class until noon, but says she'll be in her office after that." He walked toward the prep room door. "I have to check on a few things in the lab. I'm sure I'll see you two again soon." He shook Mulder's hand and quickly left the room. Mulder's curiosity got the better of him. "So, Scully, you know this Dr. Moore?" "Yeah, we both taught at Quantico, but I lost track of her after I transferred to the world of the paranormal," she said with a smirk as she walked through the door in front of her. Waiting for his partner to return, Mulder found himself inexplicably drawn to the body. He tried to imagine this red mass as a living, breathing, vibrant young life. For some reason, his usually creative imagination failed him. *Two desecrated bodies, a mysterious light, plutonium injections, a microchip implant. What the _hell_ is going on here?* He nearly jumped to the ceiling when Scully burst into the room, redressed in her 'agent' clothes. "Jeez, Scully, don't do that in here." She laughed faintly. "You watch too many horror movies, Mulder." ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- Bill Packer's house Eltopia, WA June 14, 12:40pm The agents found Bill Packer to be a very congenial and cooperative man. Offering them a cool drink, Packer settled into white resin chair on his redwood deck. "I'd invite you inside, but it's the maid's year off," Packer said with a sardonic grin. Mulder smiled. He could definitely relate. Scully immediately found herself liking Packer. He reminded her of a young Santa Claus. His pudgy, ruddy face wore a warm smile, and his deep, velvety voice reminded her of Barry White. Unfortunately, mesmerizing voice or not, he was not much of a witness. "You're probably wondering why I was in my front yard in the middle of the night," he said with a low, infectious laugh. "See, we get alot of raccoons around here and they're always tearing up my yard. I've had to replace three boards on this deck in two years 'cause of their scratching it up." Packer went on to tell the agents that he had heard a low hum in the air, then saw a bright light through a group of nearby trees. "Flashed really quick, then was gone. I thought it was one of those floodlights on top of those big pickup trucks." Thanking Packer for his time, the agents returned to the Taurus. "Maybe he's right," Scully said, settling into the passenger side. "Maybe it was a floodlight." Mulder dropped into the driver's seat, then started the engine. "Since when do floodlights blast through human bodies?" Scully tried to think of a clever comeback, but instead, raised her hands to her head, pressing her forefingers to her throbbing temples. She closed her eyes. "Just shut up and drive, Mulder." ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- --------------------Continued in Part 4-------------------- PEACE OF MIND (4/15) by Thalia D'Muse --see disclaimer in Part 1-- Washington State University at Tri Cities Anthropology Dept. Richland, WA June 14, 2:30pm After eating lunch at a packed diner near the university, the agents drove to the main part of the campus. Pine and cedar trees lined the WSU/Tri Cities campus, giving the area a cozy, woodsy atmosphere. The buildings, all individual in design but tied together with walnut and forest green trim, sat near the center of the small campus, and were surrounded by thick patches of greenery and thin two-lane roads. Scully smiled as she watched the casually clad students shuffle from building to building. She thought back to her days at Quantico, especially the years she spent teaching. She had really enjoyed being a professor, molding young minds, helping them choose the paths they would follow in life. Few things in her own life were truly rewarding to her. One was her work on the X- Files, the other was her teaching. She also thought back to her friendship with Sarah. They were practically inseparable on- and off-duty, frequenting movie houses and malls when their busy schedules permitted. Their relationship had tapered off slightly after Sarah had met Mark Puncheon, a fellow forensics professor, but Scully could see that Sarah was truly happy. Not long after Sarah and Mark married, Scully received her transfer papers that led to her partnership with Mulder. She had finally tried to contact Sarah about two months after settling in, but was told by Mark that Sarah had left, just disappeared, no note or explanation. And now Sarah was here, living a new life in Richland. Scully wondered if she would find the same tall, plain brunette with the wonderful sense of humor and a kind word for everyone. She didn't realize until that moment how much she had missed Sarah's friendship. "On the left, Mulder," she said, abruptly breaking through the nostalgic fog. Mulder nodded as he saw Scully pointing to a single-story brick structure, tan-colored Romanesque letters screaming 'Department of Anthropology' from the top of the facade. After parking nearby, the agents entered the building and headed down the first hallway, easily finding the solid dark wood door labeled 'Dr. Sarah Moore, Forensic Anthropology'. Scully rapped her knuckles lightly on the door. A loud, high- pitched voice, obviously annoyed, yelled, "No, I don't have the tests graded yet. Move on!" Slightly taken aback by the roughness in the voice, Scully slowly opened the door, sticking just her head inside. "It's not a student. It's just a fiery redhead in need of strong coffee and a brain sabbatical." Mulder let out a chuckle upon hearing the very un-Scully-like remark. As Scully pushed the door farther open, a voice from across the room yelled, "Danamite!" Before she had a chance to react, a tall, voluptuous figure embraced Scully tightly. "Dana! It's so good to see you!" "S..Sarah? That can't be you!" Scully pulled back from the embrace to get a better look. Gone was the mousy-haired, frumpy Sarah Moore of old. She was replaced by a ravishing new Sarah Moore. Her hair, a few shades darker than Scully's, was like ringlets of cinnamon fire around her shoulders. Her well-tanned face was lightly kissed with makeup, and her perfume, an unimposing floral scent, encompassed her in a light, fragrant aura. The emerald green silk blouse she wore accentuated her big green eyes, and her cream linen skirt hit well above the knee, showing an abundant amount of her long, shapely legs. Scully was in complete shock. "You look...incredible! I can't believe it's really you." Sarah took Scully's hands in hers. "Of course it's me. Who else would call you Danamite!" "I know someone else who will _now_," Mulder said with a grin. "Oh, Sarah, this is my partner," she said, motioning to Mulder. Mulder took Sarah's extended hand. "Fox Mulder. Nice to meet you, Dr. Moore." Sarah turned to Scully, a huge grin enveloping her face. "Oooh, _The_ Fox Mulder, right here in my office. I'm honored." She winked at Scully, then motioned to two charcoal gray swivel chairs near her desk. "Come in, sit down!" As they retreated farther back into the office, Scully admired the warm burgundy and gray decor of the room. Rich cherry wood paneling lined the walls, which housed mostly framed diplomas and certificates. A small, angular burgundy love seat sat at one end of the office, along with two charcoal gray Queen Anne chairs. *Wow, teaching must pay better than I remember,* Scully thought as she admired Sarah's enormous cherry wood desk, complete with a burgundy leather chair. Sarah saw Scully's expression. "No, the university did not spring for this. I did," she said, her arms spread wide. "I just couldn't handle the usual stale institutional look. Since I spend so much time here, I wanted to be comfortable." "If my office was this cozy, I'd never leave," Mulder said, settling down into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Scully sat down, the chair molding to her body. "Mulder, you never leave the office anyway." Sarah let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, yeah, right. _You're_ Mulder. 'Spooky' Mulder, right here in my l'il ol' office." Scully glanced at Mulder just in time to see the tiny flinch in his left eye. Sarah grinned from ear to ear. "Boy, I remember the 'Spooky' Mulder stories going around. What a hoot!" Scully jerked as Sarah's hand slammed down on the desk. She opened her mouth to interrupt, but Sarah rambled on. "So, Dana, tell me what it's like to follow ol' 'Spooky' around, chasing after little green men and things that go bump in the night." Her laugh came in short spurts, almost like high-pitched hiccups. Looking at Mulder from the corner of her eye, Scully expected to see steam coming out of his ears, but to her surprise, his expression remained utterly emotionless. It was one of the best apathetic looks Scully had ever seen. Raising a hand to her chin, she felt a rush of blood coming to her own face. "Uh, Sarah, I really don't..." Sarah's bright smile did not waver. "OK, Dana, who is this guy, really?" Scully shook her head. "What do you mean? I told you, he's my partner, Fox Mu..." "Oh, come on, Dana, joke's over. You actually expect me believe that the level-headed, just-the-facts-ma'am Dana Scully would actually hook up with that flake Mulder." She turned to Mulder. "Come on, buddy, spill it, who are you?" Scully cleared her throat. "Uh, Sarah..." "That's OK, Scully," Mulder interrupted, raising a hand in front of his face. "I'll take care of this." He reached inside his jacket, producing his ID badge. He flipped it open and slid across the desk. "I think this should clear up any confusion." Sarah laughed as she grabbed the badge. Scully watched the joyful smile fade from Sarah's lips. "Oh, I...I don't know what to say." Sarah looked at Mulder, then Scully. "I...I really did it this time, didn't I?" Scully answered her with a shrug and a pained smile. Sarah slid the badge back toward Mulder, raising her eyes to his stony gaze. "Agent Mulder, I must apologize. I was way out of line. I know that probably doesn't mean much, but..." Mulder waved her off. "Quite alright, Dr. Moore. I may be a flake, but I'm not naive. I'm well aware of the stories that have circulated about me and my work." He leaned toward the desk, a devilish grin washing over his lips. "You see, I've been talking with my new alien friends and they helped me realize that I should pity instead of despise the substandard members of our species like yourself, for you cannot help your lack of solid cognitive reasoning, not to mention your inferior brain capacity." "Mulder..." Scully warned, desperately trying not to smile. *How can he say that with a straight face,* she thought, knowing that she should stop him. But Sarah's comments were so mean, so vindictive, so...unlike the Sarah she knew. *I guess more than appearances can change,* she thought grimly. Sarah caught herself as her jaw started to drop. Her bronze- colored lips formed a tight smile. "OK, I guess I deserved that." "That and so much more, Doctor." His words dripped with sarcasm. Shifting in her chair, Sarah straightened her body, looking like a peacock whose feathers were unceremoniously ruffled. "Now, Agent Mulder. There's no reason to get nasty. I hope you can take those comments in the spirit in which they were given." Her attempt at a genuine smile failed miserably. Mulder raised his eyebrows. "I thought I had." Watching Sarah's bright green eyes narrow, Scully scooted forward in her chair and placed her hands on desk, the wood cool under her fingertips. "OK, OK! Can we call a truce here? As much as I'd love to watch you two trade insults, we have two bodies to ID. I'd like to put some mothers' minds to rest about the fate of their daughters." Mulder pushed back into the chair, his large hands held up in surrender. Sarah simply nodded and relaxed her shoulders. Neither refused to break the other's intense gaze. Scully knew the sarcastic remarks from Mulder were simply a defense mechanism. He could never admit to her how much the 'Spooky' jokes hurt him, but she knew. It wasn't the words that stung; it was the implication that his work, and therefore his life, was not to be taken seriously. She could see the barely noticeable flinch that others would miss. She could see the ever- so-slight rigidity flood his face, causing his strong jaw to clench and his lower lip to jut out. She knew each snide comment placed another brick in the ever- growing wall Fox Mulder had built around himself. And it was that same wall that Dana Scully had spent the last three years trying to topple, one trusting brick at a time. Scully decided it was time to navigate the conversation back to the job at hand. "Sarah, Dr. Wilson gave us a quick overview of your computer system, but is it possible to get a demonstration?" Sarah's face softened. "Of course! I love showing off my baby." She escorted the agents to an adjoining room off of her office. The room, about the size of a broom closet, was packed with computer equipment. A long wood and steel table, shoved up against an almond-colored wall, housed three oversized monitors, with two laser printers perched on either end. Three tower CPUs hid underneath the table along with miles of cables. Sarah sat in the lone chair in the room and pulled a keyboard shelf from beneath the table. Mulder and Scully huddled next to the chair. "Sorry for the close quarters, guys, but until CIRIS and I get more of a name for ourselves, we have to put up with this tiny space," Sarah said, her long red fingernails tapping furiously on the keyboard. "CIRIS?" Scully asked. Sarah turned and raised her head. "Yeah. It stands for Craniofacial Identification and Reconstruction Imaging System, but I call it CIRIS, like the clouds. Kinda ethereal, don't you think?" "Humph," Mulder huffed. Scully jabbed him in the ribs and gave him a 'behave-yourself-or-die' look. Sarah was too involved at the keyboard to notice the exchange. "CIRIS can take data from an autopsy and construct an image of what the face should look like. The accuracy of this baby is astounding," she said proudly, and then began to tap on the keyboard again. Scully watched the screen as a three-dimensional grid appeared, with the right-hand column of the screen filled with a series of numbers and codes. Sarah pointed a long red fingernail at the screen. "See, I just plug in some physical stats, like skull measurements, eye socket placement, tissue data, whatever and CIRIS will do the rest. It'll take about fifteen minutes to bring up this file, but check the grid every few minutes or so, and watch what happens." Sarah's grin took up so much of her face that she reminded Scully of the Cheshire Cat. As the computer hummed and clicked, Scully retrieved the reports from her briefcase and began describing to Sarah the two victims and their disturbing autopsy results. Staying completely out of the conversation, Mulder watched the computer screen and, sure enough, every few minutes the grid would bulge out at a certain vector, the image flashing and changing its viewpoint angle with each kink added. Mulder stepped back from the screen as the computer beeped three times. Sarah quickly sat down and tapped a few commands on the keyboard, and the grid transformed itself into a three- dimensional human skull that looked more like a photograph than a computer-generated image. The skull slowly spun around the screen, giving every possible view. Sarah looked up to Scully. "This one was from a house fire up near Seattle. It was a crack house, so no one wanted to lay claim to the body, but we got a positive ID from VICAP. Guy was a major dealer in crack. The head of Seattle Vice owes me a dinner, my choice of restaurant. Too bad for him I have _very_ expensive taste." She smiled and flipped a strand of hair behind her ear. Mulder bent closer to the screen, trying to get a better look. Noticing Sarah's body stiffen as his head was flush with hers, he smiled and turned his head toward her ear. "What's the matter, Dr. Moore? Do I scare you?" His voice was low and almost seductive. Almost. Sarah kept her head forward, her face frozen. "No, you're...you're just invading my space." Mulder laughed as he straightened his body. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Dr. Moore. I forgot how important 'space' is to you humans. It's just that we aliens _love_ to invade things." "Mulder, that's enough," Scully said firmly, her arms crossed in front of her chest. He turned his head toward his partner and was met with a gaze that could form polar ice caps in the Sahara Desert. He shrugged and gave her a mischievous grin, then turned his attention back to the screen. *He can really get out of hand sometimes,* Scully thought, shaking her head. Usually tossing a few acerbic insults would get it out of his system. But every once in a while, some unlucky person would really get under his skin and he would let loose. She was well aware that one of Mulder's favorite pastimes was messing with a skeptic's head. And he was having a field day with Sarah Moore. Scully placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin silk. "Sarah, I have the stats for the two bodies. How long before you can come up with a possible ID?" Sarah raised her hand to her chin, placing a finger to her lips. "Well, judging from what you've given me, I'd say CIRIS would need about 12 hours to process. I'll set her up this afternoon and let her run all night. I wish you had more info to give me." Scully sighed. "So do I, Sarah." Sarah rose from her seat, moving quickly away from Mulder, which brought a small grin to his face. "So, Dana, how long are you in town? I'd love to have lunch or something. You know, play catch up." When Sarah had placed a hand on her forearm, Scully felt a surge of warmth through her veins where her friend's hand lay. Scully smiled. "Well, we're here as long as it takes. And I'd love to play catch up." Her curiosity about Sarah's mysterious disappearance and dramatic transformation was eating at her like a tapeworm. Mulder walked to the door, clearing his throat. "Hey, Scully, why don't you two go get some coffee or something. I've got some stuff to take care of." Scully shot him a questioning look. *Stuff, what stuff,* she thought suspiciously. She decided not to call his bluff. "OK, Mulder, thanks. Sure you don't mind?" He shook his head. "Nah. I'll pick you up out front in an hour." He started out the door, then turned on his heel to face the two redheads. "Dr. Moore, it's been..." He let his voice trail off. "It certainly has, Agent Mulder." Her smile was so forced that her lips hurt. Mulder turned back toward the door, just in time to hide the wide, satisfying grin settling comfortably on his face. ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- --------------------Continued in Part 5-------------------- PEACE OF MIND (5/15) by Thalia D'Muse --see disclaimer in Part 1-- Student Union WSU/Tri Cities campus June 14, 3:35pm As they walked to the Student Union, Sarah rambled enthusiastically about her work, her students and her colleagues, but Scully was only half-listening. She was still amazed at the changes in Sarah. Scully was truly happy about the physical changes. Sarah looked fabulous! This stunning redhead walking beside her was such a drastic change from the 'plain-Jane' Sarah of old. Before her was a vision of fiery dark red hair, perfectly tanned skin, long shapely legs, a small waist and a large -- no, make that extra- large -- chest. *I wonder how much she paid for those,* Scully asked herself. But the more Sarah talked about her new life, the more Scully felt that not all the changes were for the better. In the short ten-minute walk to the Student Union, Scully had discovered that the new Sarah Moore had found a new love: Sarah Moore. *She shed the weight, but gained an attitude,* Scully silently mused, finding herself longing for the 'Sarah of old'. "Hello, Dana? Am I talking to the trees?" Scully snapped back to reality. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sarah. I...have alot on my mind, with the case and all." Finally reaching their destination, they headed for the coffee bar located just inside the crowded food court, then to the seating area, where they luckily happened upon an empty table. They sat for about fifteen minutes, reminiscing about old friends and former co-workers. Scully started to see her old friend shining through the new facade. She and Sarah swapped favorite stories of their many escapades at Quantico, and soon found themselves laughing so hard that they had tears streaming down their faces. "Dana, I really am sorry about today," Sarah said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "I thought you were pulling my leg with the Mulder thing." Scully took a sip from her cafe latte. "You _were_ pretty rough on him, you know." Sarah's eyes opened wide, her voice raising half an octave. "Me? What about him? 'I pity people like you because of your inferior brain capacity.' What's with that?" Scully stifled a smirk. "That's his defense mechanism, Sarah. He gets alot of wisecracks from other agents, and he's learned to deal with it by using humor." "Humor? I didn't find his comments the least bit amusing." She casually sipped her espresso. "You know, I really can't feel sorry for him. He has a chip on his shoulder the size of Cleveland." Scully's brain went on autopilot. "Mulder is the most intelligent, funny and thoroughly devoted man I've ever met. He does _not_ have a chip on his shoulder. He didn't mean anything by his comments. That's years of his colleagues' insults talking. You shouldn't take it personally." Expecting another snide comment from Sarah, Scully was taken aback by the raised eyebrows and small grin on her friend's face. *Guess I told _her_ ,* Scully thought. She took another sip, wondering how she was going to get to sleep with so much caffeine in her system. Sarah lazily ran her finger over the Styrofoam cup in front of her. "So Danamite, how long have you and 'Spooky' been doin' the horizontal hula?" Scully gasped, then coughed convulsively, praying that cafe latte would not come shooting out of her nostrils. "What?! Sarah, where did that come from?! We...he's my partner!" "In what?" Her voice was seductively low, and that Cheshire Cat grin that had disturbed Scully earlier was back. Scully simply stared at Sarah, desperately trying to think of something to say, and hoping that she could keep a blush from rising and overpowering the fair skin on her face. She was unsuccessful at both. "Ha! I knew I was right! Your cheeks are redder than Jolly Ol' Saint Nick's!" Sarah laughed, a triumphant smile on her copper- colored lips. "Not that I blame you, of course. Even we women can be 'weak of the flesh'. Normally I go for the more intellectual, stable type, but every once in a while I feel the need for a grade A prime hunk of meat. Something that I can really sink my teeth into, if you know what I mean..." Scully could feel the heat in her face change from embarrassment to anger. *This is _definitely_ not the Sarah Moore I knew,* she mentally screamed. Sarah droned on. "The Spookster's a real zero on personality, but I'd say he's at least a nine on looks. Definitely the grade A variety, but I don't how you put up with that mouth. I know I couldn't. It's a shame, really. If he would only shut up long enough to..." "I am _not_ sleeping with Fox Mulder," Scully said, a little louder than she had intended, and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand straight on end. She raised her eyes, meeting Sarah's wide-eyed stare. "Mulder and I are partners. We're friends. That's it. Period." Scully's voice was calmer than she expected and it gave her a new- found courage. "You know, Sarah, it's that attitude that makes it harder for women to earn respect in the Bureau. You were an agent, you know how hard it is to compete with men there, and then to have rumors like that making the rounds really..." "Whoa, Dana, hold on!" Sarah's long hands were raised in front of her. "I'm sorry. I must really be off today. I guess I really misread the looks." Scully's icy blue eyes narrowed. "What looks?" Sarah lowered her head, leaning across the table. "You know, the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. Like you're communicating without saying a word. You know, like lovers do." Scully could feel her new-found courage seeping away. "Look, Sarah. If you knew the things we have been through together... I can't tell you how many times we've saved each other's hide. We're a good team." She shifted in the vinyl seat. "He's my partner. I don't think of him in that context." Sarah simply nodded, barely able to hide the knowing smile on her face. Scully lowered her eyes to the Styrofoam cup in front of her. An uncomfortable silence developed between them as they devoted their time and effort to sipping coffee. After a few minutes, Scully decided to break the tension. "Why did you leave?" She looked at her friend, but Sarah's eyes remained on the table. "What happened?" Pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Sarah sighed, looking older than she had a few moments ago. "I know you thought I was good ol' 'Happy-go-lucky' Sarah Moore. But I was a mess, Dana, even before you left. My life was falling apart and no matter what I did, I couldn't stop it from happening." Unshed tears welled up in her emerald green eyes, but she fought them back, refusing to let them fall. "My marriage, the few months that it was, was not working, my best friend was moving onto bigger and better things, I was overlooked for department head, _again_. All of this in two months' time." She sniffed loudly. "Then Mom died, and I...something in me just snapped. I had to get away, I had to run away." Scully could feel her own tears finding their way to her tired eyes. She reached out to Sarah, taking her hand. Her friend's skin was warm, almost feverish. "Sarah, you shouldn't have gone through this alone. If you couldn't talk to Mark, why didn't you tell me? You know I would have helped you." Sarah squeezed Scully's hand. "I know you would have, Dana. But you were starting a new adventure. You didn't need my problems on your shoulders." She pulled her hand away from Scully's, wiping one renegade tear that had made its way down her cheek. "Besides, getting away was the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I wasn't alone. I got help and I feel wonderful now! I lost all that weight along with my numerous insecurities about myself. I'm really at peace with myself now." Scully's skeptical impulse kicked in. "Sounds like a great place. Where is it?" Sarah's face suddenly tensed. She lowered her eyes and bit into her bottom lip. "It...well, it's kind of a retreat of sorts. Very exclusive, only the best staff." *Staff of what,* Scully thought, wondering why Sarah could no longer look her in the eyes. Sarah abruptly rose from the table. "Say, Danamite, I hate to cut things short, but I have tests to grade. That's what I get for being nice and volunteering for summer session." She grabbed both coffee cups and quickly tossed them into a nearby trash bin. Scully was momentarily stunned by Sarah's sudden need to leave, but decided not to push the subject. "Yeah, Mulder should be here soon anyway." They exited the building, and Scully noticed the cool breeze that had followed them here had picked up considerably. She and Sarah chatted the rest of the way back, mostly about what mutual friends were up to now, neither brave enough to approach the subjects of Sarah's 'rehabilitation' or Scully's 'partnership' with Mulder. Once they arrived at the entrance to the anthropology building, Sarah grabbed Scully and pulled her into a quick hug. "It really has been great seeing you, Dana. I've missed you." Scully pulled back to look up at Sarah. "I've missed you, too." She had the distinct feeling that after this case was over, she wouldn't see Sarah again. Both pulled away from the embrace when they heard a car horn blaring. Scully turned to see the familiar blue Taurus waiting at the curb. In the driver's seat was Mulder, who raised a hand to give her a terse wave. Scully started toward the car, then turned back. "Oh, Sarah. Give me a call tomorrow with the results and maybe I can stop by for another demo." Sarah smiled. "As soon as I know, you'll know. But do me one favor, Dana." She gestured in Mulder's direction. "Leave E.T. at home." ----------------------------XxX---------------------------- --------------------Continued in Part 6--------------------