************************************************************ Quartet of the Paranormal: Transfers into Insanity (Part 0 of 4) By: Diana Alexander (dmulder@nettaxi.com) ************************************************************ DISCLAIMER: The characters in this piece of fiction that were taken from the television show, "The X-Files" are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Broadcasting. No infringement is intended. Any other characters used are the property of the author, Diana Alexander. RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: S KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully UST SUMMARY: When two new agents are assigned to the X- Files division, insanity is bound to follow. SPOILERS: Anasazi arc; Herrenvolk TIMELINE: This entire story series veers slightly away from the show post-Herrenvolk. FEEDBACK: always welcome at dmulder@nettaxi.com ARCHIVE: Anywhere's fine... Gossamer, Xemplary, Ephemeral, yeah... whatever... *grin* AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, for those of you who remember the Shoulder To Cry On series, I'm branching them off in two separate directions. Shoulder To Cry On will center on Mulder and Scully, and this series will describe what happens afterwards. I'm still working on that one, so please be patient :) For the moment, at least until I get deeper into this, it will merely parallel events and stories existing in the STCO universe. There will come a point when the two will actually merge, and that's when I'll take the compiled stories off Gossamer. Be looking for that point as soon as possible... like try story 3 or 4 However, do let me know if this is a good idea so I can stop while I'm ahead. Thank ya kindly, and enjoy the read! From: Diana Alexander Disclaimers and other important stuff in part 0 ************************************************************ Quartet of the Paranormal: Transfers into Insanity (Part 1 of 4) By: Diana Alexander (dmulder@nettaxi.com) ************************************************************ A petite, red-headed woman who worked as a Special Agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation headed down the stairs to the basement office of the Washington Bureau where she worked with a man that everyone thought belonged in the psycho ward of any nearby hospital. She was Dana Scully, the partner of Fox Mulder, once the Bureau's best profiler. She knew him better than any other of the people they worked and associated with, and she was proud of that. He was not a man who let anyone in without a fight. For the past several weeks, there had been much construction going on down here in the basement, enlarging the small office to almost triple its original size. Some changes were about to happen, and both Scully and her partner were aware of them. That didn't mean, however, that they had to like them. Dana knew she could take most changes thrown at her in stride, but wasn't so sure about her hot-tempered partner. The slightest setback could make him lash out at the person he saw as being responsible. His idea about who was responsible was sometimes wrong, and more often than not, Scully found herself pulling her impetuous partner out of the fire his temper had gotten him into. With a sigh, she smiled as she looked at the door of the office. The wood was smooth cherrywood and thick, recently replaced after an event where someone out for vengeance had decided to try and take them down at the core. Thankfully, she and Mulder had gotten help before the madman had taken *them* out as well as the door. Along with the replaced door had been a nameplate of her own, and she ran her fingers over it with a smile on her face. It had taken four years of long hard work to get to this point, and she didn't regret a day of it. Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D.. With the same smile on her face, she opened the door and entered the office. Already the expansion efforts were starting to show, since the room seemed to span the entire side of the basement. It no longer seemed as cluttered as it had during most of the time she had been there, and it was a relief. Although she wasn't as much of an incorrigible neatnik as her friend Storm, she still didn't care for the tight office where it didn't even feel like she had enough room to move, much less work. After hanging up her trenchcoat on the rack behind the door, she stood there for a moment and studied the man who had been her partner for over four years now. Fox Mulder was a tall, fine specimen to be studied, if she cared to do so. However, since the man had been injured more times than she could count, she didn't care to study him. In fact, when it came down to it, she didn't have to. She had already studied him enough during those times of crisis to last her three lifetimes, but she knew that she'd have to do it again, and possibly on their next case. A strand of dark brown hair hung over one brow as Mulder studied a file. It didn't seem to bother him, since he didn't even reach up a hand to brush it away, but Scully's fingers twitched with the urge to do it herself. His glasses were on, since the doctor had recently told him that if he didn't start using them when he was reading, he'd be blind before he turned forty. Despite all his gripes and grumbles, Mulder had started to wear them more often, much to Scully's pleasure. Some men had a way with glasses, making them look sexier on the face than the frames and lenses were when they were sitting on the shelf in the store. 'Well, if his job here at the Bureau ever doesn't pan out,' Dana thought to herself, hiding a smile behind her hand, 'he could always apply as a model for Lens Crafters. I'm sure they'd accept him in a heartbeat after getting a glance at him in those frames. Ooh, boy...' She grinned, knowing that having these thoughts about her partner was unofficially against Bureau policy. It was one of those rules that was never talked about and never written down in the handbook, but partners didn't sleep together. It just wasn't done. 'Well,' she amended that, 'except for Storm and Matthew, it just isn't done.' Storm Austin and Matthew Night had been together ever since they'd met back in high school. Dana could remember those days clearly, filled with laughter and girlish talk. Storm was one of the few friends that Dana shared with her sister Melissa. Mel was gone now, but Storm remained. They talked every so often on the phone, and often sent e-mails back and forth to keep in touch, since Storm was currently in the Lexington Field Office and Dana was in D.C., but things had been touch and go there for a while after Melissa had died, and Dana had taken all of the guilt upon herself. However, thanks to Mulder and Storm, Dana had pulled out of it, although she still wanted vengenace for what happened to her sister, and visited her grave every year on Melissa's birthday. She felt someone staring at her, and shook herself out of her daze, and stood watching her partner watch her. "Agent Scully, are you going to sit down some time today?" "Actually, Agent Mulder," her voice rose in a teasing tone, "I was considering standing here for the remainder of the day so I could watch you do all the work for a change. That would be a real surprise, wouldn't it?" "I do my share of the work," Mulder's voice rose indignantly. "You find extremely strange cases that take place clear across the country so we can ride in airplanes for hours with extreme turbulance," Scully continued to tease her partner. "I think you do it on purpose just to see how I react to turbulance so I can cling to you like some wimpy female on the cover of one of those bodice-rippers." "I do not," his voice rose again, still indignant. "When we get back, I usually end up doing most of the paperwork. I do admit, however, that that's probably because there was an autopsy that had to be done, and there's the information I gleaned from it that helped to back up the insane theory that you formulated. During which time, you are usually chasing after the suspect, and help to apprehend him just before he gets away." "Are you suggesting that I'm not doing my job, Agent Scully?" "If I suspected that you weren't doing your job, Agent Mulder, I would have reported you to Skinner years ago. During our first year as partners actually. However, since I believe that you do your part in profiling the suspect in order to catch him, I see no reason to suggest it," Scully smiled sweetly as she crossed the room to her desk. "How come I suspect that you were teasing me to death, Scully?" "Maybe because I was, Mulder," Scully admitted as she tucked her purse into the top drawer of her desk. "It's a temptation that I still feel the need to give into at times. I'm not totally solemn after all. Just when I have to be." "I never had any doubts about that, Scully. I've seen you loosen up at times. Especially with that stranger during our first year," Mulder said, turning the tables on the teasing, and getting a blush from Scully for his trouble. "Mulder, I was under the effect of a powerful aphrodisiac at the time, and I'm still not sure all of what happened during that time. It was a lot like being high on some sort of mind- altering drug, actually." "Would you know about this from personal experience, Scully?" Mulder leaned forward with an interested expression on his face. "What's it to you if I do?" Scully grinned at her partner. "I'm just curious, Scully..." "Everyone knows *that*, Mulder," Scully pointed out. "I'm just waiting for you to grow two pointed ears, a tail, and for a meow to emerge from your lips. After all, you do seem to have nine lives." "Do you want to make me purr, Scully?" Mulder asked with a smirk. She smiled in response and rose again, walking over to place her hands on his tense shoulders. "Not now," she whispered in his ear, purposely making him twitch. "I'd love to hear you purr, Mulder, but now is neither the time or the place for it. Later," she promised. "God, Scully, but when you say things like that, it makes me want to make you live up to your promises," Mulder teased, running his left hand through his hair as she moved away. Finally that one strand of hair that had been driving her crazy earlier had been displaced from his forehead. "I wish..." her voice was nearly inaudible. "You should let the Gunmen loose in here to clean out the bugs in the office." "But, Scully," his voice was also nearly inaudible, but still held that hint of teasing in it all the same, "that would take all the fun out of the grunt's job. They deserve to see us having a little fun every once in a while. They might think we have no life." "But, Mulder," Scully deadpanned. "We don't have a life." "Oh, that's right," Mulder hit the side of his head with the base of his palm in a gesture of mock amazement. "How could I forget?" "I don't know, Mulder, why don't *you* tell *me*?" Scully responded with a grin. "Besides, you're trying to change the subject." "Me?" "Yes, you," Scully rolled her eyes. "Why won't you let the Gunmen in here?" "Well, they might find the X-File I've written up on them." "An X-File? On the Gunmen?" Scully arched an eyebrow at her partner. "Why?" "Well, they've gotten themselves out of so much trouble that I figure that they deserve one." "And you haven't?" "Scully, you wound me," he grinned, then went back to the topic they had derailed from. "So, you never answered *my* question, Scully. Did you find out about mind-altering drugs through personal experience?" "Mulder, do I look like the kind of person who would experiment with drugs?" "Well..." "Don't answer that," Scully responded quickly, then draped her left leg over her right knee and told him. "No, I did not, Mulder. A close friend and I spent a great deal of time questioning the people in our group who we knew were on drugs. They talked about how gooooood it felt," Scully said, almost laughing as she exaggerated the word good. Just then, the phone rang, and Mulder reached for it, "Mulder." "Agent Mulder, I need to see you and Agent Scully in my office." "Now, sir?" "Yes, Agent Mulder," Skinner sounded impatient, and when Skinner got impatient with one of the agents under him, the Assistant Director had a habit of making that Agent feel like it would be better to be dead. Mulder didn't like being in that position any more than any of Skinner's other agents, and probably disliked it more than all of them put together. After all, look who spent the most time *in* Skinner's office... Mulder sighed, "We'll be right there," and placed the phone back on the hook before turning to Scully. "Skinner wants to see us, and I don't think he's in a good mood." Scully sighed and rose from the chair again, switching her computer off. "And I have the feeling that we're going to be in there for a while, or it will at least seem like it. C'mon, Mulder. Let's get it over with." Mulder placed a hand on Scully's lower back and escorted her out of the office, and toward the elevator that would take them to Skinner's office on the third floor. ******************** A tall man with short, almost black hair walked into the chaotic offices of the Lexington Field Office. He wandered over to get some coffee before heading into an office out of the way of the chaos. He sighed as he entered, placing his back against the door. Emotions were running high here recently, and it was really taking a toll on him. "Matthew, are you all right?" his partner's concerned voice washed over him, and he let out a sigh. "Yeah, Storm. I'm fine." "Matt, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you spent too much time around Dana when we were younger. That's precisely what she would say in these circumstances, y'know," Storm's voice came out of the darkness, and he heard the chair squeak as she turned to face him. "Do you want to turn on the lights or does it hurt too much?" "Go ahead," he groaned. "Turn them on. It's another day, and we have work that needs to be done." "Yes, sir." The image of a salute flashed into his mind and he stepped to one side just as the click of the light switch flooded the room with light that hurt until he got used to it. Storm Austin, his fiancee and partner, sat with her legs crossed at the ankles and her hands behind her head in a leisurely position. "It never ceases to amaze me how you can do that," Matt commented as he sunk into the chair nearest to where he was standing. "It doesn't come without its pain, as I'm sure you are aware," Storm warned as she popped two pills and washed them down with a swallow from her water bottle. "But in order to keep my responses fast, I need to take the risk. Besides, it's just me, after all." "I'm aware of that, Storm. So, what is the update on Esther Jerring?" Her face darkened ever so slightly, and she tensed. "They caught her, Matthew." "It's about goddamn time..." he muttered gravelly. Storm just shook her head, "After six hellish months on this, they finally caught her up in the mountain country. Sixteen children died for nothing, Matt. Nothing! I don't know how much more of this I can take. I mean it. Every single fucking case like this leaves me feeling hollow inside," Storm growled, her language slipping. "I know, Storm. By virtue of my nature, I feel it too, and as strong as you do. Y'know, I think this was a plan by the Project; put an empath and a healer in a division dealing with serial killers and watch it kill them from the inside out," Matthew gritted his teeth, then relaxed. "Damn... it's just not fair." "I know it's not," Storm sighed and crossed the room to hug him. "You know, Matt, we still have those resignation letters saved on the hard drive of our computer at home. We do still have the option of quitting the Bureau." "And do what, Stormie?" Matt asked as he breathed into her hair. "Work at McDonalds for minimum wage? I guess I could get good at saying 'Do yuh want fries wi' that?'" "Matthew!" Storm pulled away laughing before becoming serious again. "I just... I just hate the person I've become. I mean, I used to be this really really fun loving person when I was in college. You remember. All the laughter -- lots more laughter than tears. Now I never laugh. I've forgotten how, almost." "But Storm," Matt smiled. "You just did." "Did I?" Storm smiled in return. "Yeah, I guess I did. Besides, I have the strangest feeling that Jaret wouldn't let either one of us quit the Bureau." Andrew Jaret was a stern SAC, but he treated those Agents beneath him in the hierarchy like they were an extension of his family. It was his fault that Storm and Matthew were hidden away in this little corner office instead of out in the center with the others. The rest of the agents had resented it until they remembered the reason for it. Earlier in this investigation when feelings were running high, Storm had lost control and projected emotions and images upon the agents that most of them still had nightmares about. Not only that, but the room had been a scattered mess of pencils and other office supplies. Afterwards, Storm had had to take two days of sick leave in order to get take care of the massive migraine and rebellous stomach that the loss of control had left in its wake. Matthew nodded before commenting, "True. Andrew would not accept a resignation from two of his better agents, but he might accept a request for transfer with the reason given as the two of us finally being unable to withstand the pressures of this division." "It might not be a bad option to keep open, Matt," Storm sighed as she settled down into her chair again, turning to boot up her computer. "True..." Matt sighed just as the door opened, then he and Storm exchanged a glance and a thought when they noticed who was standing in the doorway. was what he heard Storm ask in an exasperated tone, and he mentally shook his head. Special Agent Steven Arrington stood in the doorway to their secluded office with his hands on his hips and a superior expression on his face that spelled trouble. And if Matthew and Storm weren't experts in anything else, they were experts on trouble and how to get into it. "SAC Jaret says he needs to see you immediately. Has some news, or so he claims," Arrington commented snidely. He was one of the people who chose to forget about the events that led to this seclusive office, and insisted that they were being given special treatment. He also said that it was against J. Edgar Hoover's original plans that married couples work together in the FBI. Storm had always wondered about that last statement, since as far as anyone knew, Steven Arrington hadn't even been alive during Hoover's lifetime. She decided not to question it this time, however, and glanced at Matthew before rising from her chair. She saw the thorough look that Arrington was giving her, and felt a little queasy because of it. His intentions were nearly written as he grasped her arm at the elbow and pulled her away from Matthew as they exited the room. Overlaying Arrington's obvious lust was Matt's seething anger, and Storm knew that he was just waiting for an excuse to beat Arrington senseless. She cringed inwardly as Arrington leaned in to whisper in her ear, "You know, you could get rid of that pathetic excuse for a male that you call a partner, and I should show you what a *real* man is like..." The images that flooded her mind disgusted her and she pulled away from him as hard as she could. "Get your hands *off* me before I turn you in for sexual harrassment!" "It would never go through, bitch," his lips curved into a disgustingly superior smirk and she returned it with one of her own. "Maybe not, but then I could take matters into my own hands," she smiled as she threw him a picture of her filed nails scraping painful across a very sensitive portion of his anatomy. He flinched and let her go. She walked past him with her head held high, and she felt Matthew's amusement at Arrington's discomfort as almost a physical presence, which only amused her more. She wished she and Matt could slip into an uninterrupted pocket of time and laugh themselves silly over this. Unfortunately, that was impossible, but she promised herself and Matt time later, after work maybe, for laughter over this. Matthew commented as they approached SAC Jeret's office, her smile was that of the most innocent person on the planet, and this time it appeared almost genuine. his laughter echoed inside her head and she smiled and opened the door to Jeret's office. he grinned. She did a half-bow and ushered him in before she followed, closing the door after her. As they were escorted into the inner office, Storm could almost feel the changes that were going to be taking place. And they were going to be big ones. ******************** -End: Part 1 of 4- From: Diana Alexander Disclaimers and other important stuff in part 0 ************************************************************ Quartet of the Paranormal: Transfers into Insanity (Part 2 of 4) By: Diana Alexander (dmulder@nettaxi.com) ************************************************************ Scully could tell already that she and Mulder were in trouble. Again. It happened so often that it ceased to be news to her. Kimberly looked the slightest bit uneasy as she ushered her and Mulder into Skinner's inner office. Mulder's hand caressed her back lingeringly as he pulled away in time for them to sit in their respective seats in front of Skinner's desk. Skinner did not look happy, but then, he seldom did. "Agents Mulder, Scully, thank you for coming to my office so quickly. There are some adjustments being made that I thought the two of you should be aware of." Mulder's eyes narrowed slightly, and Scully cleared her throat softly before asking, "Adjustments, sir?" "Due to the increased stress and workload of the division, I'm expanding the X-Files Division." "Excuse me, sir?" Mulder looked trapped between wariness and disbelief. Scully shared her partner's wariness. After all, they both remembered what exactly had happened with Alex Krycek. For the first time since the X-Files had fallen under the authority of Assistant Director Walter Skinner, the man took off his glasses and showed signs of smiling. Scully watched in amazement and wished she had a camera so she could take a picture of it, since she was certain that it would never happen again. "To repeat what I just told you, Agent Mulder, I am expanding the X-Files Division with you and Agent Scully as co-heads. As long as the division works in coordination with VCS, I see no problem in expanding it. The X-Files has the highest solve rate in the Bureau and deserves the manpower to support that. We have found two Agents deemed trustworthy by their superior and they've agreed to fly in to help you and Agent Scully." Scully and Mulder shared a glance before she tilted her head to one side and asked in that quiet voice that had sent many a man running, "Sir, may I ask which agents are being assigned to the X-Files?" Skinner glanced down at his desk at an open folder before closing it and handing it to Scully, even as he responded to her question, "Agent Austin and her partner Agent Night from the Lexington Bureau. The head of that Bureau assured me that they were among the best, but happened to be under too much stress at the moment." The name had Scully lifting her head slightly with the smallest of smiles. Mulder still maintained his wary look, but Scully relaxed slightly as she told Skinner, "Thank you, sir. Do you have any idea when they will be arriving?" "They have just gotten the assignment themselves, Agent Scully," Skinner responded. Scully smiled, "Yes, sir. I'll check with Agent Austin myself, sir, and make certain I know when they'll be arriving." Skinner looked surprised but said nothing other than a comment of dismissal. Mulder escorted Scully out of the office with a questioning look on his face. She knew that she would have to explain to Mulder how she knew Agent Austin and warn him about her friend's eclectic behaviour. "Scully, who is this Agent Austin?" Mulder asked after he had read over the file Skinner had given him. "You acted in there as if you knew her. Can she be trusted?" "I do know her, Mulder. She's an old friend, one that can definitely be trusted. She has a few secrets of her own," Dana responded with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "She's rather insane, but an interesting person to be around in general. I seem to attact people like that." Mulder looked shocked at his partner's pointed look at him. "Scully, I resemble that remark." "That's the problem, Mulder. You resemble it a bit too well." "Do I?" he arched an eyebrow at her, and Dana smiled in response. "You know you do. You're the craziest man I've ever met. And the scary part is that I'm not sure if that's a bad thing or not," Scully commented as they entered the elevator. Mulder laughed in response as he pressed the button for the basement. After a moment of strange noises, the elevator began to move. "So, what else do you know about this Agent Austin, Scully? Or do I have to go to the Gunmen to get a report on your friend?" "I'd kill you if you did that, Mulder, and then I'd revive you so she could kill you again when *she* found out. And trust me, Mulder, death by my hand would be a lot better." "I'm sure. Honestly, Scully, I wouldn't want you to shoot me in the shoulder again." "No, Mulder, I might shoot lower," she responded teasingly. "Ouch," he placed his hands over a sensitive part of his anatomy. "Scully, that hurt. Besides, I wouldn't be able to father your children that way." "You do have a point, but then again, Mulder, I never said anything about you and me having children, did I? Maybe I should have, if I thought it would have gotten your attention." Scully grinned as his mouth worked. For a change, she'd caught Fox Mulder totally speechless and was enjoying the luxury. He turned and looked at her as the elevator doors opened. She smiled and moved to exit the elevator before she felt him walk up beside her. She looked up at him, and Mulder had a mischievous look and a slight smile on his face. "So, Scully, you never answered my question..." "Okay, Mulder, but this is all you're getting out of me. Special Agent Austin has got a doctorate in psychology, and did her dissertation on Pseudopsychologies and the Paranormal. She's something of a paranormal sort herself actually, and I suppose it intrigued her immensely. The dissertation was very interesting, by the way. I read through it myself, since she e-mailed a copy for me to look over. Apparently, she drove the parapsychologists in her area insane since she kept asking questions," Scully responded. "What do you mean, 'she's something of a paranormal sort herself,' Scully?" Mulder asked. "Well, Mulder, you'll see when she gets here. I'm not sure I believe half of what she's tried to explain to me on that particular topic, but I'm sure you and she could have some very interesting conversations." "What? Is she an alien abductee or something, Scully?" he teased. Scully shook her head and mumbled under her breath, "Or something. Mulder, she could explain it better than I ever could. All I'll say on the matter is that she's a strong believer in psi phenomena." "But Scully, since we know so little about how the brain works, it's entirely possible that people can possess the abilities that parapsychologists suggest." "But Mulder," she countered, enjoying the feel of their special brand of intellectual intercourse, "it's not within the range of human thought to see the future. Besides, on a purely non-scientific train of thought, wouldn't that take a lot of fun out of everything, if you knew what was going to happen before it happened?" "Maybe I'll just open an X-File on your friend, and once she gets here we can investigate her," he teased, opening the door for her. She shook her head at him as she walked into the office. "If you did that, she would definitely kill you, and I can't say that I'd blame her much, Mulder," Scully responded, then stopped. There was a sudden feeling of energy about the whole room. Mulder froze and stared, not quite believing what he was seeing. Sitting at the edge of his desk was a ghostly figure wearing a pair of jeans, what appeared to be some sort of silk blouse, and ankle boots. A long braid was flipped over the shoulder of the apparition to the figure's back by a slender hand before she disappeared, taking the sudden influx of energy with her. She had only been there a minute, but he was already set off guard. Mulder carefully made his way to his desk and looked at it. There was no sign that anything unusual had happened. With a frown, he turned to look at Scully, who was still standing in the doorway, "Scully, what was that?" "I'm not sure, other than the fact that it seems that somebody seems to want to mess with *your* mind as you've messed with so many others. Either way, I suspect that things are going to be getting rather *spooky* around here," Scully commented with a teasing smile. Mulder was not amused. "But, Scully, I don't do that anymore," Mulder whined as he moved behind his desk and sat down. Scully walked to her desk, running a hand over the polished wood again before taking a seat and rebooting her computer. "Could have fooled me, Mulder," she responded as she sorted through the files to find the one that she was looking for. Pulling out last week's field report, Scully began to put the finishing touches on it, since Skinner had sent them an email the night before, notifying them that their field reports on the matter were due in his office by five that evening. "But Scully, I really don't do that like I used to," she listened to his whining, then had to admit that he was right. Occasionally, he did it when that was the only way they would take what he was saying seriously, or there was an old grudge involved, but Mulder had been going according to the rulebook for a while now. After she nodded, acknowledging his point, Mulder changed the subject back to Agent Austin again. "Can you tell me something else about her? Personal stuff?" "Sure, Mulder. I'm sure she wouldn't mind me telling this, since she's always looking for a willing partner other than me, when I'm indulging her. She loves to fence. She looks for any opportunity to do so, and she's also into the marital arts, which helps in her work with the Bureau sometimes." "I'll bet," Mulder commented. "What about her partner?" "Night? Ahh, I haven't known him as long as I've known her, but ever since we were introduced, he and Austin were nearly inseparable," Scully paused, a musing look on her face before she continued, "he's something of a introvert. Very shy, but professional in his job. He was working on a doctorate in the healing arts the last time I checked." "Do they have first names, Scully?" Mulder asked, a teasing smile on his face. "I don't think that was listed in the file." "Yes, actually they do," she responded in kind. "Storm Austin and Matthew Night." "Her first name is Storm?" Mulder arched an eyebrow at her. "Is that a real name?" Scully rolled her eyes at her partner. "Mulder, how many times has someone asked you if Fox was *your* real name?" "Point, Scully..." he admitted with a flinch. "By the way, Mulder, yes, it's her real name," she told him in an exasperated tone that stopped the questioning. After he finally decided to go back to work, Mulder noticed a piece of stationary on top of the stack of stationary and blinked at it before picking it up and looking at it. "Hey, Scully, did you put this here?" "Put what where?" she asked, looking up from the Windows screen where she was typing the remainder of her report into one of those word processing programs that Bill Gates had sent the government when they'd upgraded to Windows. She hated it. "This," he handed her the piece of paper, and she looked at it before chuckling softly. "Sounds like a promise, Mulder, and no, I didn't put it one your desk," she said as she handed it back. He frowned slightly as he stared at it. On a piece of cerulean blue stationary, a note was written in an unfamiliar scrawl. See ya soon... Spooky. --S. "That's her greeting, Mulder," Dana explained with a slight smile. "I think this is going to turn out to be very interesting." "Somehow, I can't argue with that," Mulder said, looking at the stationary again before tucking it away and getting back to work. ******************** Andrew Jaret sat before his desk, looking at the fax he had received from the Washington Bureau. Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner's signature was on the documents. They were requests for transfer for Agents Storm Austin and Matthew Night. He hated to lose two Agents who had become almost friends, but this office was killing them both. This assignment was killing them. Truth be known, he had been the one to request transfers for the both of them, and the notification that one of the more controversial divisions of the Bureau was being expanded seemed to be the perfect opportunity. He had jumped for it, and now he had to inform the two agents who were entering his office that they were being moved away from the constant day-to-day life of this hellhole. He watched as they walked into his office together and took a seat before him carefully. They both looked like this investigation into the serial killer who had murdered young children had killed them from the inside out. Agent Storm Austin met his eyes, giving him a view of her inner fury. "What the hell is this all about, Jaret? Why did you send the biggest asshole to *fetch* me and my partner?" her sarcastic emphasis on that one word didn't go unnoticed by her superior, who flinched. "What's so fucking important that you pulled us out of the only peace and quiet we've had since this case has begun?" "Austin, you're way out of line," Jaret growled as he leaned across the desk to try to stare her down, but she merely rose from the chair, reminding him that the woman was a head taller than he was. "Andrew, you can write me up for insubordination for all I care, but I'd like to have a reason for this. I've been under a great deal of stress, and dealing with sexual harrassment this early in the morning is not my idea of a good way to deal with it." "What are you talking about, Austin?" "I'll *tell* you what I'm talking about, Special Agent in Charge Andrew Jaret. When you sent Steven Arrington down to our office to fetch me, he made some suggestive comments about how I should let him show me what a *real* man looks like. I have Matthew as my witness, but it's still our word against his, and Andrew, darling, you know that a woman's word isn't worth shit in this Bureau. Especially one that has hair as blond as mine is," Storm finished with a flip of her long blonde hair. "They think of us as secretaries and ditzes, and nothing more than that. No matter that I have a higher degree than most of them will ever achieve, but I'm a woman to be taken advantage of." "Easy, Storm," Matthew placed a hand on her arm, and noticed just how much her body temperature had risen since their superior had called them into his office. He felt as though his hands had just been burned just by the contact against her forearm, and he pulled his hand away. With a sigh, she calmed down almost instantaneously, and lowered herself back to the chair. "I'm sorry, Andrew, but it had to be said. I can deal with it fine when I'm alone, but the fact that the idiot got to me like he did just made me furious. "Austin, I understand this. I understand this very well, and I will take care of it. Either that, or I can let *you* take care of it -- off the record, of course. Whichever you wish for me to do, just let me know. You know I've always gone far out of my way to assist you and Matthew, even outside of the Bureau standards when possible." "I am aware of this, Andrew, and I appreciate it," Storm sighed, running her hands through her bangs. "It's just that this case is quite trying and I'm not dealing with it very well. I suspect that due to my actions earlier in the case, you are fully aware of that." "Yes, Agent Austin, I am. However, I received some news today that might get you off this case and out of this division... well, somewhat. You'll still be in an offset of the VCS, but you won't have to witness this sort of brutality on a regular basis from what the Assistant Director from the D.C. Bureau tells me." "So this would mean a transfer, then?" Storm asked as she skimmed through the folder that the SAC had just slid across the desk to her. "Yes, Agent Austin, it would. And, from a professional standpoint, I think it would be more healthy there for you and your partner." "Don't I have any say-so on the matter?" Matthew asked sarcastically. "Well, you would if your female partner over there wouldn't have such a big mouth," Jaret remarked as Storm glared at the both of them before returning her attention to the folder. The first page had an overview of the division. The X-Files were found by an over-curious agent one day in early 1989, it said, and had to do with paranormal phenomena. Storm stifled a smile; if there was one thing in this world that she knew about, it was paranormal phenomena. Wetting the tip of her finger, she turned the page to see the agents involved in the running of the division. The solemn face of her childhood friend stared back at her, and memories of what Dana had confided to her over email flashed through her mind. Looking up at the picture above it, she saw a sarcastic expression on a familiar looking face. If she didn't know better, Storm would have sworn that it was her cousin Shannon who worked in the DEA in St. Louis. She read the small detailing next to the picture and discovered that this was the spooky guy that Dana had been complaining about four years ago when she was assigned to him. Over time, she had started mentioning him less as an annoyance and more as a friend. Then it had been more than a friend. A smile lit her face. This was definitely going to be interesting. Storm handed the folder to Matt, and waited for a moment until his startled eyes met her amused ones. She nodded slightly with a grin on her face. Matt had known Dana through her and Dana's sister, Melissa. Storm frowned slightly as the memory of Melissa's death came to mind, but let the thought slip away. Now was a time for making decisions, not to linger nostalgically on things she could not change. he asked her silently, and she sent a wave of mental laughter in his direction. a flash of a wide grin appeared in her mind. Storm accepted the folder back from him, and skimmed through the other pages in it. It looked like they were going to be occasionally working in coordination with the VCS division, but most of the work that the X-Files did weren't involved with serial killers. Apparently Mulder had been the VCS's golden boy earlier on until Patterson burned him out. She frowned. Patterson had done that to a lot of good profilers, from what she'd heard, before he finally went crazy by using his own techniques on a case. Dana had told her about that one; Mulder had known it was him, but had to try and stop him before one of them ended up dead in the process. The worry had come through quite clearly in her voice. She could already tell that there was something more than partnership between these two, but she wouldn't push them into anything they weren't ready for. Matthew said, picking up on her train of thought. Storm snapped the folder shut and slid it back across the desk toward her superior. Andrew sat and watched the reactions of Storm and her partner for a moment. Since that day when things were flying around the office, he had realized that there was something more at work here than just two people who were extremely close, and he was prepared to wait for them to make their decisions. After a moment, Storm nodded sharply at her partner, and the man leaned forward and spoke. Jaret was prepared to listen, since Matthew Night seldom spoke unless he had something to say. Something that both he and his partner agreed upon. "Call up this Assistant Director Skinner and tell him that we accept. We'll be out there within two days. Have him tell his agents to be waiting." "I can make flight arrangements for the two of you..." Jaret started, but Matthew shook his head. "No. We'd rather drive. It's not that far, and we could use the relaxation," Matthew told him as he and Storm rose to walk out of the office. He looked over his shoulder to watch Jaret pick up the phone before closing the door behind him. After they cleared out their office and headed toward the car, Matthew noticed a contemplative look on Storm's face, one tinged with mischief, and started to worry. "What's up?" "Oh... nothing..." she smiled innocently, and he rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah, right. What is it, Storm?" "Oh, just sending a little warning to our friends in Washington." "Aren't you worried that Dana'll freak?" "Nah. It's aimed at freaking her partner out, actually." "Should I run in terror?" "I'll give you a headstart." By the time they got to the car, both of them were laughing. ******************** -End: Part 2 of 4- From: Diana Alexander Disclaimers and other important stuff in part 0 * * * * * Quartet of the Paranormal: Transfers into Insanity (3/4) By: Diana Alexander (dmulder@nettaxi.com) * * * * * Dana Scully was laughing as she walked through the door of her apartment. After their meeting with Skinner earlier, she and Mulder had not gotten much more work done on the paperwork that was stretching to the ceiling. Mulder had spent the remainder of the afternoon playing 240 questions about the two agents being assigned to their division. He now knew that Storm was six months younger than he was, had long blonde hair, a sarcastic sense of humour that rivaled his own, and that she would die to protect anything that was important to her, whether it be people, her right to choose how to think and feel, or the right for people to know the truth. It had been a long time since Dana had seen her childhood friend, but the memory never faded of how she was able to pierce someone with those silvery eyes and convince them to tell the truth just by the weight of her stare. 'There was nothing paranormal about *that*,' Dana mused. 'I do that all the time. Hell, I do it to Mulder at least once a week.' With a sigh, Dana set the laptop case down by her computer desk and her purse was hung on the back of the chair. She liked everything to be organized, since when it wasn't, she could never find a damn thing. Finally, she settled down on the couch and turned on the television, trying to find something on worth watching. It was a feeble attempt, she knew, but she felt like she had to make the effort. Five minutes after she had given up on the television with disgust and had turned it off, the telephone rang. Yawning, Dana reached out and pulled the cordless phone off the base to answer it. "Scully." "Oh, please, Dana, don't tell me that you answer the phone like that all the time. You only use Scully at work, don't you?" The familar and slightly accented voice said as a welcome. "Hello, by the way." "Hello to you, too, Storm. How are you?" she asked, somehow missing the other phone she had had a long time ago since the sudden urge struck her to twirl the phone cord around her fingers as she spoke. "Oh, I'm fine, I suppose," her friend responded, echoing her own yawn from a couple of minutes ago. "It's been a long day. Hell, make that a long six months. They put me on the Jerring case, and it's been hell on my nerves." "I can imagine," Scully shook her head in sympathy as the memory of what Esther Jerring had done rushed through her mind. The woman had abducted seven children from the Appalachian Mountains and they had found them dead in one of those mountain caves. "Did you catch her?" "Not me, personally," Storm responded with a sigh, "but she's caught. They... they couldn't take her back alive, Dana, or so I heard. One of those rookies that they put on the case overreacted from the emotional overload from these past few months and he just shot her. Five times." "Five times?" Dana frowned. "Yeah. All in the back of her head. There was no way in hell anyone on that team could have saved her. Then again, with what happened a few weeks ago, I doubt that any of them would have tried very hard." "What happened?" "Classic emotional overload, Dana," Storm responded, and Dana could almost see her friend running a hand through her hair, as was her habit. "Emotions were running high in the office, and ... I lost control." "How badly this time?" Dana asked, remembering the one and only time that Storm had lost control in her presence. It had managed to make a believer out of her on that matter, though she still wasn't sure she could believe what she had seen. "It was bad, Dana. *Really* bad," Storm said, sounding tired. "Papers flew around the room, people all over the office ended up with migraine headaches -- mine and Matt's were the worst -- and it took a week to get everything back in order. "Ouch," Dana frowned, remembering similar stressful times when stuff had moved around the room. The first time that had happened, back in college, it had scared the wits out of her and given her nightmares for a week. It was only a pencil lodging itself in the wall, then... "Dana, you always were so skeptical about some things. Why not this?" Storm asked. "I mean, you've even told me about some cases where you barely questioned the use of psychic ability, and followed your own intuition. Dana, you're a scientist, someone who isn't supposed to believe in that kind of thing. You are not Melissa." "Storm, I am aware that I'm not my sister, and that I'm skeptical," Dana responded, nearly snapping at Storm, simply for the reason that she didn't have an answer for her. Sometimes she did question the psychic ability in the cases she and Mulder faced, like the one where an old flame of Mulder's had brought a case involving a pyrokinetic to fling in his face. Phoebe Green. God, but she had hated that bitch. A slow smile crossed her face as she recalled what she had done to a picture that she'd found of Phoebe and Mulder together. She had cut Mulder out of the photo and totally mangled what was left. What had shocked her at the time was the sheer enjoyment she had gotten out of it. A chuckle came through the phone, "And then, you saved it as phoebe-mangle.jpg and emailed it to me. Gods, but I think I laughed over your mangle job for *days*, Dana. I certainly wouldn't want to meet the bitch, that's for sure." "Well, if you're going to be working with us, Storm, then there might be a time when you will have to meet her. I mean, the way she dropped in on us that one time left me with the feeling that if the whim struck her, she'd be flying back to Washington to wrap Mulder around her fingers again." "Ah, then I'll enjoy fucking with her mind as much as she did with Mulder's. That sounds to me like what she did, and there's still some ties there. He really needs to talk with you about that." "Mulder and me talk? You have to be joking, Storm. It seems like we seldom talk." "How can you fall in love with someone you rarely talk to?" Storm asked her seriously. "I'm not in love with him, Storm. I work with him constantly, we get on each other's nerves, and we always disagree. What makes you think I'm in love with him?" "The way you talk about him to me," Storm responded to Dana's defensiveness. "And actually, the loud way you denied it now gives its own suggestions to my conclusion. Haven't you ever heard the saying about people thinking you're guilty if you yell your innocence too much? However, I still think you need to talk to him. If there *is* nothing between you, which I seriously doubt, you and Mulder are at least friends, and he seems to trust you enough to talk to you about it. It might help him, Dana." "I don't know, Storm. Let me think about it. It is an awfully touchy subject with him." "He told you about his missing sister on your first case with him," Storm reminded her. "That could be considered a touchy subject as well, just one that he thought was important to tell you. I think he's probably shocked as hell to find out that you took him seriously and didn't start laughing or running out of the hotel screaming your way back to DC to ask for a transfer. Hell, that may have been what he was trying to do, knowing his reputation." "Don't tell him that," Dana retorted with a grin. "It might injure his pride. Every time I ask about his reputation I get laughed at." "Or a 'Spooky? Do you think I'm Spooky?'" Dana laughed, "Yeah, that too. Though that was only the first time I asked him about it, and in front of Colton, to boot." "Who is an asshole. Man, I think I would have pushed him out a ten story window if he'd told me what he told you." "I was tempted," Dana admitted. "Extremely tempted. We were next to a window at the time..." "I don't doubt it, Dana," Storm responded, sounding suddenly tired, then Dana heard a loud crash in the background, followed by muffled cursing, then she spoke, "Hold on for a second, Day, and let me see what Matt broke. It's hell trying to get all of our most important stuff moved in this short span of time." "All right," Dana sighed, shifting positions on the sofa slightly as she waited. After a few moments of banging noises, Storm finally returned to their conversation, sounding more than slightly out of breath. "Sorry about that, Dana," Storm sighed. "We're almost ready to head out. By the way, we're not going to be flying into Dulles." "Oh?" An eyebrow arched into Scully's hair. "Why not?" Storm's shrug was almost visible to Scully through the telephone line. "I don't know. I don't feel like dealing with that many people at the same time right now. I'm not sure how well my control's holding up. Normally, I would, but..." "So, Storm, how are you planning on getting here?" "I'm going to drive, of course," she responded. "Nice quiet countryside until we get out of Kentucky, and then I can yell at the drivers all I want to in order to release this frustration I have. Sounds like a great idea to me." Scully grinned in response. "Does anything ever change with you, Storm?" "A few things, but I'm still the basic sarcastic bitch you knew when you were in junior high school and still the tomboy trying to keep up with your brothers. Melissa never understood that, you know." "I know," Scully responded quietly. "I miss her, Storm." "Yeah, Day, so do I," she sighed softly. "Every day, I miss her. Then again, it doesn't help to know that her murderer was murdered in his cell. I know that it's fitting, but I still don't like it much." "Neither do I," Scully ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "But there's nothing I can do to change things. Can't chase a man beyond the grave, I suppose. Some days I'd like to try, but..." "...but Melissa wouldn't have wanted us that way, yeah, Dana, I know. Besides, sometimes I can still feel her hovering around. Some days I'm not even certain that she's really dead." "What do you mean? I thought you said that she came to you in a dream or something in order to prepare you for this... like she knew that she wouldn't make it or something." "Yeah," Storm mused. "That's just the thing, actually. It just bothers me since she never would have come to me that way... she just seemed so... hopeless. Melissa never would have been that way, even if she was about to die. Remember how she was so certain that it was a good place?" Dana had to laugh at that. Storm was right; Melissa had spent their teenage years trying to convince her sister, brothers, and all of their friends that death was nothing to fear, but was a really good place. Better than being alive, Melissa had said, totally convinced by some seemingly inner knowledge. No one had taken her seriously then, but sometimes these things had a way of coming back around to haunt a person. "So, when are you and Matthew arriving in D.C?" Dana asked, trying to get back to the subject at hand. There was a heavy silence at the other end of the phone before Storm came back with an answer. "Sorry, had to ask my partner about that," Storm said. "He says that if we make good time, we should be back in the D.C. area by tomorrow morning. Mind if we crash at your place for a while until we're able to get a place?" "It's no problem, Storm. The guest room is always open... that is, unless Mulder is delirious and occupying it," Dana responded and both of them laughed. Storm had received an answering machine message and a followup email talking about the circumstances concerning Mulder's stay in Scully's guest room and their desperate flight to New Mexico. "I really want to meet this man Mulder you keep talking about, Dana. He sounds as though he's certifiably insane." "That's the problem," Dana responded with a wry grin. "He is." Laughter once again echoed down the phone lines. "Figured as much. Listen, Dana, I'm going to go and get on the road. Matt and I want to get as early a start as possible. See you tomorrow, okay?" "Are you sure about this? I mean about driving through the night to get here," Dana was worried. She knew that Storm knew the tri-state area like the back of her hand, but still, things were so much worse at night. Besides, she might fall asleep behind the wheel if she had been sleeping as little as she had indicated she had been. "Dana, don't you trust me?" Storm asked with a falsely wounded tone. It was impossible to take the woman seriously sometimes, and when she used that particular tone was one of them. "I know my way to your place in Georgetown, after all, I used to live in the same apartment building once. Besides, Matt and I will switch off in the driving tasks. Did I cover all your worries in one swoop?" Scully couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, Storm, you did. So, you're leaving now?" Scully got a sudden image of her friend looking up at a very familiar if impatient man standing in the doorway, and shook her head in response. Every so often, Storm did this without thinking about it and it never failed to catch her off guard. Sometimes under that kind of pressure, it was difficult to maintain her skepticism. Then again, she sometimes wondered if that was the point all together. "Yeah, Day... Matt's being kind of impatient to get out of here for some reason. I have no idea why, but..." Storm's voice trailed off, but Scully found herself nodding in response. "Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it," Scully said as she remembered times when Mulder had practically dragged her to the airport in his hurry to get on with the case... or to get *away* from the case, which had been stressful on them both. She sighed. In those cases, Mulder hadn't had to do much dragging. "I bet you do. We'll compare our scars when I get to Georgetown." "Promise?" Scully found herself grinning again. That was something that she found herself doing far too seldom these days. Maybe that would change with the arrival of her old friend. "Definitely. See you tomorrow?" "Yeah," Scully responded and they disconnected the phone call in unison. That was out of long practice and no special abilities. In the beginning, Storm had been far more in tune with Melissa than with her, but as time had gone on, Missy had gotten more distant, and Storm had gotten closer. She couldn't exactly place a time or a location to that, but just accepted it as fact. Just as she headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water before she went into her bedroom to get some sleep, the phone rang again. Scully rolled her eyes and turned back to the living room and lifted the cordless phone from the base again. "Scully." "Scully, it's me," Mulder's voice came through the cordless and she smiled. She had known it was him all along. "What's wrong, Mulder?" she carried the phone with her into the kitchen and then into the bedroom. "What? Does something have to be wrong for me to call my favourite partner?" Mulder's voice asked her, and she smiled. "Mulder, I'm your *only* partner," she countered. "Besides, no one else would be able to put up with you. You're just incorrigible." "Am I? I'm glad you think so," he sounded pleased, and Scully could just sigh. "I'm not sure I meant that as a compliment, Mulder," she shook her head. "Anyway, what's up?" "I was wondering if you had any idea when that duo of yours was arriving." "Eager to meet them, are you?" Scully teased. "Yeah, I guess so," Mulder admitted a bit sheepishly. "Hey, you know how I am around tall, leggy blondes." "Unfortunately so, but I must warn you that she's got a killer kick... and she does fencing. I told you that, didn't I? And you're not her type, Mulder." "You wound me, Scully," Mulder complained good naturedly. "And besides, how do you know that I'm not her type." "Maybe that's because she's engaged to her 'type'," Scully shot back. "What can I say? The woman's picky about the guys she chooses. If you're lucky, she'll think of you as another brother." "You didn't tell me she had a brother." Scully groaned. "What? Is this yet another attempt to find out more information about my best friend from childhood? Is nothing sacred?" "Nothing but the truth, Scully," Mulder teased. "Besides, that's all I'm doing. Trying to make sure that she's not another spy." "Mulder, not only do you occasionally think of me as a spy, but my friends, too?" she teased back. "I should be insulted." "You should be, but you're not, right?" he asked, and Scully could just visualize the innocent look on his face. It made every woman skeptical and ready to fall at his feet. He knew it and used it at every given opportunity. Even when the woman he was talking to wasn't around to see him. "So, Scully, you never answered my question," Mulder whined as she crawled into bed with a muffled yawn. "When do I get to meet these two agents?" "They're supposed to be in town sometime tomorrow, Mulder," Scully countered. "Storm doesn't even know what time she and her partner will be here." "Aren't they flying in?" Mulder asked in a confused tone. "No," Scully replied quietly. "I think I'd feel better if they were," she said, then stopped with a frown. She seldom shared how she was feeling with Mulder these days, if she ever had, and wondered why, other than the fear that he would think her weak. That was probably one of the reasons they had trouble connecting some days. It was time for some things to change, she decided, and let the statement stand. There was silence for a couple of moments, and it seemed almost as though he was as shocked by her admittance of worry as she was. Then again, she tended to block him out more often than not, so that *would* surprise him. "Worried about them?" he asked quietly. "Yeah, just a little," she nodded. "Storm and Matthew haven't had much sleep since this serial killer case began and they're driving here from the Lexington Field Office. I still think it's a bad idea. After all, you would know better than I do what kind of effect those kind of cases have on a person's psyche." "Unfortuately, yes, and from personal experience," Mulder admitted, then stopped for a moment before continuing. "I think it's probably better for them that they're doing it this way. I know that for up to a week afterwards, I wanted to go after almost anyone that I didn't want close to me with a machete. Good thing I don't have a machete, then, isn't it, Scully?" "Yeah, Mulder, it is," she smiled at Mulder's attempt at humour. His favourite defense mechanism was one that she was very familiar with. "Listen, I'll call you when they get in and if they're not too tired and stressed out, they'll probably agree to meet you somewhere between my place and yours." "Starbucks?" he asked, and she smiled. "Maybe. Probably." "Okay, then, I'll let you go and get some sleep. I have a feeling that you're going to need it tomorrow." "What? Are you getting psychic on me now, Mulder?" "You never know, Scully, you never know," he replied mischievously. "Hey, Mulder, you might want to get some sleep yourself." "But Scully, you know me, I never sleep." "That's bullshit and both you and I know that, Mulder. If you really got as little sleep as you claim you do, then you'd be cranky all the time at the best. At the worst... well, let's just say that I wouldn't want to be within ten feet of you." He laughed, "You do have a point, Scully. See you tomorrow?" "Yeah," she smiled softly. "G'night, Mulder." "G'night, Scully." As soon as she disconnected the phone and placed it on the bedside table, Scully was asleep, almost as soon as her head made contact with the pillow. ******************** -End: Part 3 of 4- From: Diana Alexander Disclaimers and other important stuff in part 0 ************************************************************ Quartet of the Paranormal: Transfers into Insanity (Part 4 of 4) By: Diana Alexander (dmulder@nettaxi.com) ************************************************************ After she got off the phone with Dana, Storm rose from the couch and headed toward where the doorway where Matthew was holding up her denim jacket by his left index finger. With a smile, she accepted the jacket since it was getting cold, and closed the door behind her, making certain it was locked securely. By the sheerest of luck, the landlord of their apartment had allowed them to leave without the typical three weeks notice. Apparently they were not the first of their kind to stay in this building, and it was a relief, since they didn't really have friends or family in the area to take care of things for them after they left. With what happened in the office during this case, neither Storm or Matthew could really blame the other people for not wanting to be close to either one of them. 'Of course, the fact that the landlord remotely resembled Mel Gibson didn't hurt matters either,' Storm thought to herself with a smirk as she handed the key to the apartment back to the man, who just smiled, thanked them and headed back into the depths of his apartment. As they turned away, Matthew slung an arm over Storm's shoulder and smiled, "So, Storm, are you ready for this?" "Would it surprise you if I told you 'hell no'?" Storm grinned in response, shifting the bag she was carrying over one shoulder. "Not really," he laughed, throwing the last of their luggage into the back of Storm's 1989 Chevrolet Blazer. She pulled the keys out of her jeans and slipped into the driver's seat. After a few moments, Matthew joined her, and they were on the road. "Matt, I'd suggest--" "That I fasten my seatbelt? Yeah, I know. Already done," he confirmed as the buckle clicked into the belt. With an evil grin, Storm took her hands off the steering wheel to do the same before pressing her right foot to the accelerator. The wind whipped through the open windows, flinging her hair into her face. She was surprised at how good it felt, to be this free. She hadn't taken a reckless drive down the highway in a long time. Time had not allowed for it and that was part of the problem she'd been having. That was part of the reason why she had lost control at the office. If she didn't get that stress-relief, it was hard to keep control. Sometimes. A smile crossed her face. A friend of hers and Dana's was the same way. She had to remind herself to drop by Norfolk sometime. She hadn't seen her in a long time, and a visit was long over-due. Though Sara was sometimes the most annoying person you'd ever want to me, they meshed well. That is, when they got the opportunity to see one another. "Tell me about Mulder," Matt's voice came to her from the other side of the vehicle and she turned to look at him in surprise. "What you know about him from Dana, I mean." "I honestly don't know a lot more than what we saw in that case file, Matthew," Storm said, turning her eyes back to the road. "I know he is one sarcastic son of a bitch, and that he uses that and his weird sense of humour as a sort of defense mechanism against pain." "That sounds a lot like you, actually," he commented, then changed the subject at her glare. He didn't like to cross her much. "They call him Spooky. Why would that be?" "Maybe, Matt, because he is. He's seen things and lived through things that would only appear in people's nightmares. The things that *really* go bump in the night." "Dana's told you this?" "Dana's called me because she's woken up from those very nightmares. And because she needed to talk to someone that gave her a sense of grounding. Melissa and I shared that purpose until Mel died, and now it's just me. And Mulder, I suppose, but I doubt it. She wants him to believe that she's so fucking strong when she's not. I don't understand it, myself." "Maybe that's *her* defense mechanism," Matthew suggested, turning to stare at the countryside that seemed to fly past them as they drove. "And maybe she wants to be strong for him. Does she love him?" "She says that she doesn't, but I'm not so sure. She's stayed by him when all others would leave him to die because of his own mistakes. She says that he's her best friend and her work partner, and they lean on each other because of what they've seen. Nothing more, she claims. I'm not sure she's telling the entire truth to me *and* to herself." "Hey, some of the best relationships begin with friendship, you know." "Yeah, but I don't even think we mesh as well as they do. I See them sometimes, and I wonder where we went wrong?" Matthew shrugged. "Maybe one of these days we'll find out, eh, Stormie?" "Yeah," she grinned at him. "Maybe." She sighed as she drove. When she had been transferred out of Quantico to Lexington, she had had to cut off most contact with her friends, which she hated. Sure, she and Matthew had grown up together, and she really didn't mind being a loner, but the constant isolation had been nearly unbearable. Only those phone calls to Dana and Melissa, along with the emails, kept her grounded. Matt's gentle mindvoice interrupted her thoughts, and she gave him a mental smile, wry though it was, and didn't take her eyes off the road. She laughed silently at that, then commented, Storm smiled in response, and he left her to her own thoughts. Yeah, she was ready to drive the crazy idiot that ran a small bar and grill outside of Washington D.C. insane. Though, she mused, he didn't need much pushing. She missed the Washington area more than she would admit. She found herself staring with fascination into the angry red sunset. Without pausing from her high speed run out of the state of Kentucky, she reached for the golden wire-rimmed sunglasses she wore. After slipping them on her face, she noted that her speed had dropped a couple of mphs, and moved to correct that problem. She never knew exactly what attracted her to speed. Speed as in driving a car really fast, yet not recklessly, not the drug that causes hallucinations and is extremely addictive. In this day and time, the difference had to be pointed out. Some of her friends were the same way. There was really no explaination for it, or so they claim. For the moment, she believed them. Still, what could she say about having to point out the difference between the drug and the fast driving? She was the product of a younger and more innocent generation. Of course, she wasn't saying that *she* was innocent, per se, just that her ways were different. Even from her own generation. Her cousin Shannon's voice echoed through her head, deep and tinged with a slight Scottish accent. Somehow... it just rang of home. She hadn't been to Scotland in a long time. As she resisted the urge to close her eyes and sigh, she caught sight of the symbol that she had been waiting miles to see, and sighed with relief instead of wistfulness. You are now leaving the state of Kentucky, the Bluegrass State. Come again soon. ******************** Scully jolted out of sleep without really realising exactly what had awakened her. The knock came again, firmly, and for a moment, she thought it was Mulder coming to drag her out on another one of his weekend X-Files. Then she remembered what had occured the previous day, smiled, and rose from the bed, glancing at the clock. It wasn't yet ten in the morning, and already she was here? She must've driven like a bat out of hell to get here so fast. Then again, this *was* Storm she was talking about here. As she made her way into the living room, the knocking started again, slightly louder this time, and Scully muttered, "Storm, I'm coming, I'm coming. Be patient for a change." "But Dana, I'm not supposed to have any patience," Storm's voice was muffled through the door, "Unlike you, I'm not a doctor." "Very funny, Storm," she muttered as she fumbled with the locks. The words "I thought so" echoed inside her head, and she shook her head slightly. There was going to be a lot of things that she'd have to be getting used to again if she was going to be working with Storm Austin. On the X-Files. The world had better start running, and she'd even give them a two day head start. Finally, she got the door unlocked, and Storm was standing there with her hands on her hips, a mischievous expression on her face. If she remembered correctly, that expression had a habit of becoming nearly permanent on her face. However, Storm's face was slightly flushed and her hair lay in tangles down to her hips, a few stray strands draped over either shoulder. If Scully hadn't known better, she would have sworn that Storm and Matthew had been having sex on the back seat shortly before arriving at her apartment. She looked at her friend with an arched eyebrow and stepped aside, allowing her access to the apartment. "In answer to your unasked question, Dana, no, Matt and I have not engaged in that sort of sexual activity for at least a month. I'm getting too fucking old for that sort of foolishness, and you know it." "Storm, you're only what? Thirty-five? I wouldn't consider that old. Especially since it's you we're talking about," she commented as Storm collapsed on Dana's sofa. "And besides, don't you ever tone down your language?" "Nope," she responded tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "And if you're wondering where my other half is, he's down with the car. He'll be up here in a minute." "Storm, how did you get here so fast? I wasn't expecting you until maybe this afternoon, at best. How fast were you driving? And did you even stop for some sleep or some sort of break?" Dana frowned at her friend. "No, no..." Storm stifled a slight yawn. "I lost track of time when I was driving. You know me. I let off steam this way, and there was a lot of steam to let off. Day, I think I was nearly boiling with what's been going on for the past three months." "Serial killers... God..." Dana just shook her head. "Why they feel the need to subject people -- profilers -- to being in side their heads, I'll never know. And it always affects the people around them. If I never see another serial killer case, it will be too soon." "Speaking from experience, Dana?" Matthew's voice entered the apartment before he did, carrying two totes. "By the way, we didn't want to clutter up your guest room, so there's just enough stuff to last a day or so." "It's okay," Dana mumbled, "and unfortunately, you're right. It *is* from personal experience. However, one of the agreements the X-Files have come under recently is to help with cases from Violent Crimes." Storm sighed before moving into the kitchen. With a worried expression, Dana followed her, and noticed her setting on a kettle of water to boil. Storm easily reached up into a cabinet that Dana had to stretch to reach and pulled out a box of herbal tea that she had stashed up there during her last visit. At the time, she had shrugged and commented that you never know when you'll need it. Now was obviously one of those times. "Well, Dana," Storm finally started to answer, "as long as we don't have to do all the work and on a continuous basis, I think I'll be fine. I can't speak for Matthew since the man's prone to speaking for himself." "Is this a good thing?" Dana asked her friend, who grinned in response after peeking at the kettle as she waited for the water to boil. Within a couple of minutes, the old-fashioned kettle began to whistle and Storm moved it off the fire. After dropping a tea bag into a cupful of boiling water, they moved back into the living area and sat back down on the couch. While waiting for the tea to steep, Storm answered, "Sometimes it is. However, at times, Matt attracts the kind of trouble I go out of the way to avoid." "I do no such thing," Matthew grumbled. "Matthew, you do it often, and it's often by accident. Most people just think you quiet and a shadow of me," Storm shook her head at the statement. "Have you two ever considered that it might be true?" Dana asked with a contemplative look on her face. "What do you mean?" "Well, the fact is that most men -- well, some people, really -- would be a shadow behind you, Storm. You have a vitality and surviving instinct that shadows a lot of people that don't have those same qualities." "Are you saying I shadow you?" Storm asked, immediately on the defensive. "No, I'm not," Dana grinned widely. "However, Storm, you might shadow Mulder if he gives you the opportunity," Dana laughed in response. "I doubt that," Storm returned with her quirky grin. "From the way you speak of him, it sounds as if we're going to be fighting like a couple of siblings." The moment the words escaped her lips, Storm felt a shudder of premonition wash over her. After a few moments, though, she shook it away. What she had received was so vague that she couldn't even begin to explain what it might be trying to tell her. So she would wait and see. If such things were meant to happen, they would, whether the people they involved wanted them to or not. A touch of Matthew's hand against a shoulder brought Storm back to her senses sharply, and she shook her head with a scowl. "I suppose I spaced out just then, didn't I?" Storm asked with yet another one of her infamous wry smiles crossing her lips. Dana just nodded, her grin fading to an ever so rare Scully smile. "Did I miss a question that I was supposed to answer?" "Yeah," Scully smiled. "I asked if you wanted to meet Mulder at Starbucks." "Make it The Crossing?" Storm asked. Dana's eyes widened slightly, then she smiled. "It's been a long time since I've been there. I'll have to give him directions." "Then do that... I'll give Audrey a call so Kenneth won't shoot us all on sight," Storm responded with a yawn. "What kind of call?" Matthew interjected teasingly. Storm pulled out her cel phone. "What kind of call did you *think* I meant, nitwit? I'm not up to those kind of distances when I'm this tired, and you know it." Storm dialed, and listened to Scully tell her partner a long list of details that was probably the fastest way to Arrow's Crossing, that combination restaurant/conference area for the psi-talents and their friends that she, Dana, and all of their friends had been hanging out at since their teens. Suddenly, Audrey Ashbury was on the phone, "Hello, Arrow's Crossing. This is Audrey." "Hey, Rey, this is Storm..." "Hurricane," Audrey countered, and Storm got the mental image of the fiesty Irish-American woman grinning widely and mischievously at her. "It's been a long time." "I'm just coming back into the area after a long hiatus. Decided I missed the place and needed to hold a meeting there." "I'll hide Kenneth's shotgun and have a table reserved for you." "Rey, you're the greatest." "You just don't appreciate me." "I know. I owe you a pint of whisky after this is over." "Make sure you get the good stuff this time." "I will. See you soon?" "Definitely. Tell Dana I said hi," Audrey commented before disconnecting. Storm just shook her head. "Dana, Audrey said hi, and everything's set. Shall we go?" "Yeah," Matthew responded, rising from the chair. Storm gave him a worried look as she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He shook her concern away, and Storm frowned slightly, then shook her head. "Dana?" she asked as her friend hung up the phone. "I had to have him write it down. He thinks that just because his memory is eidetic that he wouldn't get lost. However, Fox Mulder gets lost more than any man alive, so I insisted. The man has a selective memory." "Don't they all?" Storm responded mischievously and rose as Dana got her purse. As they all headed out the door, Storm couldn't help but wonder what kind of chaos would be awaiting them when they got to the Crossing. However, as Dana closed and locked the door behind them, Storm decided that she really didn't want to know. ******************** -End: Part 4 of 4-