From: april mowry Date: Mon, 07 Jan 2002 05:21:36 GMT Subject: NEW: Phase 3 (R) Source: atxc Title: Phase 3 Author/Email: Ms. AM / AMOWRY@neo.rr.com Rating: R to be safe Spoilers: Pilot Keywords: Mytharc setup, UST (oh yeah and a little Mulderbation) Archiving: After the Fact, Ephemeral, Gossamer and anyplace/anybody else that would like to have it. Disclaimer: The characters herein are not mine. Credit goes to DD and GA especially for breathing life into two of the greatest characters IMHO to ever grace the small or big screen. Credit also to CC, 1013 and any and all that have a vested interest in ClassicXF. Including the fans. Summary: This craft and several others had once been simple metal alloy, uncommon to Earth, but not from its origin planet. Now it is more. Summary2: It's not everyday a woman-a pretty woman-a fellow agent at that comes into his room and proceeds to show him so much skin... Feedback: I like it! I love it! I want some more of it! Authors Notes: Thank you, thank you to my beta Jemirah! Bellefleur, Oregon 1993 The craft was hovering. Waiting. The experiment subjects entering Phase 3 had been arriving steadily for the last few weeks. Even with the assistance of this planet's collaborators through part of Phase 2, selection of suitable subjects was far from perfect. All ages and sexes of the human species had been used at one time or another. The very young and very old were found to be unviable test subjects and were no longer utilized. The ratio of success to failure was high, with failure leading the way. And even the successes could not be considered as such until completion of all project phases. The present phase, Phase 3, was exceptionally negative. Several of the successes from Phase 2 had expired and very few were left in this area of collection. The craft continued waiting. The signal would come and drift down from its position, pulses of energy radiating from its hull and it would retrieve the next subject. This craft and several others had once been simple metal alloy, uncommon to Earth, but not from its original planet. Now it was more. It had been one of five to land on Mars to collect samples. One of five to merge after the discovery of a chunk of reddish- black rock. More than it was--more than it should be. And although it shouldn't be possible, it was; it learned from everything it touched. Was it still a machine, under the control of the beings who piloted it here, or was it in control? * * * * * The craft is descending. Its energy flows in an outward explosion of circular waves, disrupting light and sound waves. Interfering with the flow of time. It recedes back into itself, bringing with it the knowledge of everything it touched. * * * * * Fox Mulder reclines on his couch. The off-the-air static from the TV set casts a strobe-like effect across his face. One hand pillows his head while the other plays with his lower lip. He ponders many things. His new partner. The case in Bellefleur. The events there, including nine missing minutes. His new partner. Why in the hell he blurted out half his life story--Samantha's disappearance--to said partner. Why, as far as he could tell, Billy Miles and Teresa Neumann were the only ones to survive their experiences. What made them unique? How to get rid of his new partner. Back to those nine minutes... and the aftermath. He still wasn't sure what exactly happened. She'd seemed such a straight laced, by the book, goody-goody little agent. Then coming to his door in her robe. She, Dana Scully, was fresh--nave almost--young and pretty. He'd noticed that right away, despite her plain, almost mousy attire. She'd been shaking. Her hands had fumbled with the knotted belt before drawing a breath and dropping the robe. Her eyes had been searching, asking him a question, wanting him to assuage her fear somehow. For a moment he'd been confused. It's not everyday a woman--a pretty woman--a fellow agent at that--comes into his room and proceeds to show him so much skin.... So much creamy, ivory, soft-looking skin with curves in all the right places. Breasts small but full, sitting high and round, nice handfuls. He'd snapped out of normal 'male' mode and stooped down. The candlelight had caressed her skin, her back, in golden shimmers. The flickering flame had undulated along her spine, highlighting the little hollow just above her panties. He'd had the almost overwhelming urge to grab her hips and lick her. He'd have started right there in that little dip and then moved to the right until he could kiss the bites that had startled her so. Instead he'd smiled, lightly chuckling while giving his mosquito bite explanation. He'd stood and then she'd turned and buried her face in his chest. She was still trembling, her small body flush with his. He'd been aroused, just like that. He'd moved his hips back, patted her shoulder almost awkwardly.... * * * * * He is panting. Sweat beads on his forehead. He opens his eyes and looks down at his unzipped jeans halfway down his hips. Watches his hand moving in practiced motion up and down his erection. He comes. Biting his lip almost hard enough to bleed, just so he doesn't call out the name poised on his lips. Hers. * * * * * Cleaned up and back in his original position, he resumes pondering. The case. The case. The case. Dammit! His partner. Dana Scully. Excuse--he hadn't been in a physical, let alone emotional relationship for so long, his hormones were acting up. Solution-- control. And keeping her at a distance. Decision made. He will not trust her and will not care for her. Simple. The phone rings and he groans as he gets off the couch to get it. * * * * * He likes the Pentagon secret storage facility. It's secluded, quiet except for his own footfalls; a good place for introspection. His phone chirps and he fishes it out of his pocket along with a pack of Morleys. "Yes." 'What is this I hear?' a British accent inquires. 'Agent Scully seems to be doing just the opposite of what she's supposed to do. My God, she's supposed to invalidate his work, not be savvy enough to pocket a piece of hard evidence.' He lights up and takes a drag before speaking. "It's been handled. In fact, I just put the 'hard evidence' with all the others. When Agent Mulder goes to look for it and realizes she doesn't have it--well, let's just say he'll keep her at a distance. Which is to our advantage, of course. He already suspects her of being a spy. He'll never trust her, it's as simple as that." 'Well... we have another problem.' "What's that?" 'Our contact has informed me that both Mulder and Scully were in the path of the craft's energy field.' Another drag. "During Phase 3 procedures? Interesting...." 'Interesting! Their bios may have been assimilated by the craft. They aren't part of the project protocol. We have no idea what the outcome of their exposure could be. It could very well mean our demise.' Taking a last drag, he drops the cigarette and douses the ember with his heel before replying. "Calm down. What you perceive as a dangerous, risky, problem to solve, I see as another set of variables that we need to keep our eyes on." 'It's not just that, the craft we have--the markings have changed. Professor Chang believes the craft in Bellefleur is sending signals to the others. He's also deciphered one of the main symbols... it's a chart of our own solar system. I fear the worst.' Lighting another cigarette he finally utters, "I find it fascinating." * * * * * Dana Scully is finding it impossible to sleep. An hour after speaking to Mulder and hearing their hard work was basically being ignored, she couldn't shut down her mind. She'd just decided to get up and make some Chamomile tea when the phone rang again. "Hello?" 'Scully?' "Yes, Agent Mulder. Is there something else? It's late." 'The implant, Scully. You still have the implant, right?' Sighing, she softens her voice. "No, I turned it in with my report. Why?" Silence. "Mulder?" 'You shouldn't have given it to them, Scully. It was all we had.' "Mulder, he's our supervisor. We're required to hand over any physical evidence. I'm planning on signing it out tomorrow morning and doing a few more lab tests on it." 'It won't be there. G'night Scully.' The dial tone was greeting her before she could respond. He was wrong, wasn't he? Shaking her head, she hung up the phone. When sleep came, her dreams were of a brilliant white light. * * * * * "Hi, Carrie. I need to sign out the evidence in bin #19831013XF." A few moments pass. "I'm sorry, Agent Scully, but there's nothing in that bin. I'm sure it's just been misfiled. We've had several temps in here lately. If you'll fill out this form with a description of the item please, I'm sure we'll come across it." * * * * * Scully comes into the office, head down at first. She finally takes a deep breath and looks into Mulder's eyes. The slight trust she'd seen in them the night he told her of his sister's disappearance is gone. If anything he looks at her with more wariness than when they'd first met. "Told ya." he says before turning around and returning to his computer. She starts to say something, some platitude, but knows it would sound false. She doesn't believe in widespread conspiracies or 'everybody's out to get me' scenarios, but.... No, it wouldn't matter what she said to Mulder right now. She's not entirely sure why it's so important to her for him to trust her, but it is. * * * * * The craft is moving on. Phase 3 is still ongoing, in another area with another set of subjects. As it's passing over Washington D.C., several symbols, etchings on the underside of the vessel, begin to glow. Information cycles through the memory banks of the craft, finally finding the corresponding bios. The bios of two anomalies, scanned during Phase 3 in Bellefleur. They are catalogued now, included. Phase 4 will commence at the end of Phase 3.... The end.