From: "eve eve" Date: Fri, 08 Jan 1999 23:43:54 PST Subject: Please Archive "Phone Call- Something Incredibly Strange" by Pendrell's chick January 1999 Please contact me at doofX@hotmail.com (This is my first fanfic, so please go easy on me!) Rating: PG Spoilers: Duane Barry, Leonard Betts, The End, Smallpotatoes Category: S, MS friendship (slight X, UST, angst) Summary: Someone wants Scully to hear the answering machine tape of the night she was abducted. One line borrowed from "Hand in Glove" by the Smiths Disclaimer: I'm just doing this for fun. The characters don't belong to me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 3:13 am Scully's apartment "Hello?" Came Scully's groggy reply to the rude wake up call. Years ago she used to switch her ringer off before going to bed- an old habit she picked up during her sleep-deprived days in med school. Now she feared for her partner's safety and well-being, and would never consider missing one of his middle-of-the-night phone calls...even when it was just insomnia motivating his calls. Truth be told, she loved his 2am calls. During the day business and professionalism coloured their relationship, but in the nighttime there were no rules or boundaries. Well... fewer boundaries. Hell, if Mulder hadn't called her up last week during one of his bouts with insomnia she would never have discovered that "I Dream of Genie" was his favourite show while growing up. It's a small thing, but she cherished moments when either of them let their guard down and just behaved like normal friends. The stupid pricks at work would never appreciate just how beautiful this man really is. "Mulder, it's me." Came the response over the line. She quickly shook herself out of her foggy haze and bolted upright in bed at the sound of her own voice. "Mulder?" She asked, hesitantly. Maybe this was some sort of joke. She listened as the voice continued. "I just had something incredibly strange happen to me. This piece of metal that they took out of Duane Barry...it has some kind of code on it. I ran it through a scanner and some kind of serial number came up. What the hell is this thing, Mulder? It's almost as if...(long pause) it's almost as if they're using it to catalogue him." Now Scully was terrified as the memory of that night flooded her brain. She knew exactly what would happen next and she knew it wasn't Mulder on the other end of the line. He may be incredibly insensitive at times, but he wasn't cruel and he'd never play such a sick joke on his best friend. Not if he valued his life. He's had enough experience with people taunting him about his traumas to understand how much it hurts, and the psychologist in him would never allow himself to pull such a stunt. Yet, who else would have this tape? Despite every instinct to hang up, Scully listened on. She heard what sounded like a storm in the background. Remembering back to the night of her abduction she recalled struggling with a soaking wet Duane Barry, and then waking up drenched in the trunk of a car. Her car. A clap of thunder could be heard on the tape, and then a few more moments of storm sounds before she heard herself gasp on the other end of the line. The sound was followed by the noise of glass being smashed- Duane Barry crashing through her bay windows. The windows that were the clinchers to her choosing this bad luck apartment over the one on the 3rd floor. For what seemed like the hundredth time, she cursed that decision. "MULDER!" Her voice screamed to her over the line. "Come on!" Shouted Duane Barry. "MULDER! I need your help! MULDER!" Then a crashing sound, and the tape hissed for a few seconds before the line went dead. Thinking quickly, Scully pressed *69. She was rudely greeted by a message "We're sorry, this tracing service is not available for this client." Dammit! The person has put a block on their line so that she couldn't trace it. Now she had to make a decision. Call the bureau for a trace or call Mulder to see if maybe he knew who would have that tape. ('Why wasn't it in the fire? Did someone save the tape before burning the office? Why are they phoning me now, 5 months later?') Too many questions, and now she was becoming frantic. With tears streaming down her face she pressed #1 on her speed dial. ~~~~~~~ Mulder's apartment 3:18 am "Hello?" asked a half-sleeping Mulder. He was still unsure whether he was on his couch, sleeping, or in the desert, with green hair, stepping on rat-sized cockroaches for Queen Scully, who needed them for her dinner. "Mulder, it's me." ('Ok, I'm definitely back in my apartment,' he thought.) Looking over at the time, his concern surfaced and he asked,"What's wrong, Scully?" "Where is the answering machine tape of me being abducted?" she slowly inquired, carefully articulating each word. He noted the raw emotion in her voice. The question puzzled him for a moment and then he figured that she must have just awoken from a nightmare about the ordeal. Scully's been through so much that he's often surprised that she doesn't have more nightmares than the few she actually gets. But he can always tell the next day. When you know a person inside out it's easy to see the signs. Right from the moment he can first hear her approaching his desk in the morning, he can tell. On those days her walk is less confident, and the rhythm is different. No more right-left-right-left. It's almost as though she's dragging her heals. R-right-l-left-r-right-l-left. It's difficult to describe, and it's a difference that only he can detect. Then the easy part is when she comes within view. She's often paler than usual, and her puffy eyes are well-concealed under make-up, but he can see the circles nonetheless. Scully doesn't normally laugh at his attempts at humour (it's a battle of wills), but on those days she doesn't even react with her characteristic arched eyebrow or her rolling of the eyes. There are an infinite number of signs but he usually lets it drop. Scully's not one to open up about private matters, and as much as he'd like to find out what disturbs her sleep, he never feels as though he's got the go-ahead from her. His thoughts cause him to sigh, and then he turns his attention back to the question. "I keep it here with me, by the phone." Hearing the pause over the line he continued, "I never submitted it as evidence. I was afraid that they would try to cover up what little lead we *did* have." More silence on her end. "Scully?" "Mulder, would you please check to see that you have the tape there now?" Her voice was so small and he sensed that she was on the verge of tears. As much as he didn't enjoy seeing her in pain, he relished these moments in which Scully let down her walls and showed him her true emotions. It's good for her. It's good for them. He started to wish that he was over at her place, comforting her, rather than just over the phone. Walking over to the desk by the window, he opened the bottom right drawer and fished around until he found the 'toy surprise'. "It's here, Scully." Pausing, he gently prodded, "Why do you ask?" "Someone just phoned me... and played the tape," she didn't bother to hide her sniffling. Alarm bells went off in Mulder's head. Suddenly his paranoia, and fear for Scully's safety were on full-throttle. "I'm coming over." With that he hung up the phone, grabbed is weapon, his badge, and his jacket, in a record 2 seconds, before flying out the door. Upon reaching his car he realised that in his haste he had forgotten his car keys. After about 3 seconds of deliberation he concluded that Scully could be in serious danger and therefore he couldn't spare the time. He settled on smashing his car window ('dammit! Mental note: next time smash passenger side!'), and hotwired his own car. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Scully's apartment 3:31 It had been nearly 20 minutes since the phone call and her heart rate had yet to approach anything near a normal rate. ('Breathe. Calm down.') She instructed herself. ('This is just a natural reaction to reliving a painful event which has had an enormous impact on my life. The adrenaline should subside in a minute.') Even while panicking she tried to be rational. The fact the Mulder panicked at the news didn't help, either. It just confirmed that this was serious. As if she needed more reason to be upset. She couldn't figure out whether to be annoyed at or grateful for Mulder's reaction. ('He's rushing over to protect me.') She thought. ('But I can take care of myself- and him- just fine, thank you! If there's one thing I learned from my whole abduction disaster it was how to defend myself. I became rusty after a few years out of my Quantico training, but since Duane Barry I've taken kick boxing, Ti Kwon Do, and a street-proofing course for women. Man, some of the moves they taught us at the latter are downright dirty, but I'll be prepared, as Leonard Betts was unfortunate enough to discover. And I'm much more cautious in and around my apartment these days. Just try me!') This line of thinking was starting to make her feel better. She put the gun she had been holding since she got off the phone with Mulder in the pocket of her robe, and started to relax. She found it difficult to reproach Mulder for his concern. After all, her abduction was a living nightmare for him, as she found out from her mother, her sister, Skinner, and just about everyone else who saw the sorry state he was in during her disappearance. It also touched her to know that during that time he insisted on working alone, despite the re-opening of the x-files. His justification: "I already have a partner." Suddenly, the thought of Mulder coming over no longer annoyed her. As if he could read her mind, a loud knock came to her door. "SCULLY!? SCULLY! Are you there!!!??? SCULLY!!!!" She chuckled to herself. ('Yep, that's my Mulder. No wonder my neighbours hate me.') ~~~~~~ As Mulder made his way to her apartment his concern gave way to frantic fear. ('What could the phone call mean? Are they going to take her again? Who the fuck got a copy of that tape? Why are they taunting Scully? If they dare touch a hair on her head I'll fight to the last breath!') Now, at her door, his frenzy had reached it's peak as he awaited her response to his calls from out in the hallway. Getting ready to kick in the door, he counted '1, 2, 3...' and fell into her apartment as she opened the door, barely managing to jump out of his way in time. As she lifted herself off the floor and lent a supporting hand to her friend, Scully couldn't help but giggle at what had just transpired. Mulder was torn between continuing with the serious mood he had felt only moments ago and laughing with Scully. Studying her face, he could see that she was now feeling relaxed, and even light-hearted. "Mulder, how nice of you to drop in," she teased. Her grin was growing larger by the second and her laugh was infectious. Despite himself, he joined in her laughter. That's what he loved about Scully. While others laughed at his expense, she always laughed WITH him. ('God? Is there anything that this woman can do wrong?') he silently asked. "I've made some tea. Let's sit down." Taking her lead, he grabbed a mug from the kitchen and followed her into the living room to the sofa that faced the fireplace. He still cringed every time he saw this sofa- the one on which she had sat with Eddie Van Blundht. For the umpteenth time he wondered just what had gone on before he barged in...and what would have gone on had he arrived a few minutes later. It still wasn't clear to him how to interpret the whole incident. Was it a sign that she wanted to be more than just friends all along? Or did it mean that Eddie really did have more "personality" than the average man? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that. ('It's no wonder that a janitor beat me in the personality department. After all, 85% of my experience with women has been through phone sex. And that doesn't exactly involve thought-provoking conversation. *sigh* I wonder what they talked about.') His thoughts were interrupted by Scully's voice next to him on the couch. "I'm glad you came, Mulder. Although I can take care of myself, I'm grateful for your concern, and I'm in the mood for your company," she smiled at him, and then proceeded to yawn. ('Help, me lord! I'm ALWAYS in the mood for HER company,' he confessed to himself...a nice, safe confession.) "Uh...thanks." ('Good one, Mulder! Now I sound like Pendrell'). He snaked an arm around her waist and she snuggled in close. ('That's better. Now you can call me Casanova. Time to think of something witty to say. I know I'll ask if that's a gun in her pocket or is she just happy to see me.') "Hey Scully?" When she didn't respond he looked down at his partner's sleeping form, resting against his shoulder. Brushing some stray hairs away from her forehead, he then planted a gentle kiss on her brow. "Sweet dreams." ~~~~~ The concealed face of Jeffrey Spender moved away from the bay window and headed back toward his car in disappointment. ('Why didn't she call the Bureau about the phone call? *sigh* Next time it'll be ME who comforts her," he mumbled to himself as he drove away in defeat. END