From: eponine119@att.net (eponine119 ) Subject: NEW: Red Death 1/2 Date: 3 Jul 1996 22:31:18 GMT Disclaimer: Chris Carter. 10-13. 20th Century Fox. Edgar Allan Poe. No infringement intended. That's all you're getting out of me. This story was inspired by the rash of wonderful Pendrell stories being penned [pun?] lately, specifically Amy Schatz's "I am So Ordinary" and Kylie's Pendrell Saga; and unspecifically, all the others I have read whose titles escape me. I actually *like* Pendrell, or at least I did before this all started, but it doesn't come through in this story [at all!] so you're safe. :) The Red Death by eponine119 eponine119@att.net June 10, 1996 Special Agent Pendrell was surprised when the house phone rang in the lab and somebody said it was for him. He was even more surprised when it turned out to be Assistant Director Skinner, requesting a meeting with him in his office in fifteen minutes. Pendrell wasn't part of Skinner's department. But Scully was, and the mere thought of the lovely redheaded agent brought a smile to Pendrell's lips. There was an extra little bounce in his step as he considered the possibilities behind the reason he'd been called to see Skinner. Maybe the X-Files needed more help and Scully had asked specifically for him! Pendrell knew in his heart that was unlikely because Scully no doubt had never noticed him, but he still hoped. Maybe Agent Mulder had decided to leave the X-Files altogether and he would be assigned to be Scully's partner! Pendrell savored the vision of it as he got into the elevator. He saw himself in a dark suit, tall and handsome and dashing. His trenchcoat would be a deep mysterious blue and have a flower sticking out of the buttonhole. Scully would turn to him for advice and look up at him adoringly, her hand on his arm... He chuckled to himself and the other agents in the elevator with him turned to look at him. Blushing bright red, Pendrell tried to make himself smaller and blend in to the walls at the same time. The other agents returned to their normal routine of ignoring him. But Pendrell couldn't let the last bit of fantasy go without first playing it out in his head. Tuxedo. White jacket. His hair slicked back elegantly, a drink swirling in his hand. A gorgeous woman in a skimpy, tight dress - make that Agent Scully in a lovely dress, perhaps red - staring at him as though he was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. "Pendrell," he'd say, putting out his hand casually. "Agent Pendrell." Pendrell felt the other agents staring at him again. This time because the elevator had reached its floor and he was alone in the capsule and making no move to get out. He smiled quickly at them, then put his head down and walked to Skinner's office looking down at his shoes. Figures, he thought, the one day I don't bother to polish them is the day I'm called to a meeting like this. For he was certain the lovely agent Scully would be in attendance. Just as he was certain Mulder's shoes would be impeccably shined. His heart skipped a beat when he entered Skinner's office and saw that Scully was sitting in one of the chairs. Skinner looked at him sharply. "Sorry I'm late," Pendrell mumbled and dropped into the other seat, instantly aware of how close that put him to the object of his secret affection. "That's all right," said Scully, "I just got here myself." Pendrell smiled at her for a moment before she looked away. She's such a kind, good woman, he thought, trying to put me at ease like that. Skinner saw the look on Pendrell's face and for a moment had to bite back a laugh. He knew how the young agent felt about Scully - hell, the entire building knew how Pendrell felt about Scully; Skinner imagined it was what the mice gossiped about when all the people went home at night. He saw Scully trying to hide her irritation and almost laughed again. But he couldn't. This was a very serious case. "Have you heard of Ms. Ruby Scarlett?" asked Skinner. "The First Lady of Lipstick?" asked Pendrell, eager to please and recognizing the name. A moment later his skin flushed hotly with embarrassment when he saw the looks Scully and Skinner gave him. "I read a lot," he mumbled to try to explain. "Yes," said Skinner with a deeply troubled sigh, "Ruby Scarlett was the First Lady of Lipstick. In her heyday, she used to give enormous parties where the theme was the color red - everything had to be the color red. It's said the designers of hair dye colors even created a shade especially in her honor - Crimson Flame." "I'm familiar with it," Scully said, perfectly seriously. Skinner gulped another deep breath, wondering how he was ever going to get through this meeting. Concentrate, he told himself, taking another deep breath. "In recent years, she's become more and more unstable until now..she decided she would throw another gala party, only this time she's kidnapped her guests and is holding them hostage," he explained. "Why?" asked Scully. A brilliant question, thought Pendrell, wishing he'd thought of it first. "That is what it's up to you to find out. And quickly. Ruby Scarlett is holding prisoner in her home high up representatives of the most important organizations in the United States," said Skinner. "Congress?" asked Pendrell, quite proud of himself for coming up with it. "No," replied Skinner, "Hollywood. And she claims the outside world will be destroyed by a coming plague that only she and the chosen among us will be able to escape. She's extremely paranoid and delusional." Scully snuck a glance at Pendrell, who widened his eyes at her. She quickly turned her eyes away. She hadn't seen that look since Johnny Blaine made googoo eyes at her in third grade. "What about Agent Mulder, sir?" she asked. "Why hasn't he been assigned to this case with me? To my knowledge, Agent Pendrell has never served in the field and this hardly seems the case for him to-" Skinner interrupted her, glancing at Pendrell and feeling sorry for him. The kid did really good work in the lab, but Skinner wasn't thrilled about sending him out into the field either. "To be frank, Agent Scully, you and Agent Pendrell are the only two agents in the Washington Bureau who have red hair. And Ruby Scarlett seems to believe that the only people she can trust not to bring the plague into her mansion are red- haired people." Scully frowned. "But doesn't Ruby Scarlett dye her hair red? She must be about seventy years old, her hair would have turned white by now." Skinner could only shrug. "The two of you leave in an hour. Her mansion is in rural Virginia, and you'll be driving in. You're undercover on this assignment," he stated, rising from his chair. "I know I can count on you to get things under control." He addressed both agents. "This has the potential to become a very ugly standoff if not handled properly and quickly." "We'll do our best, sir," said Agent Scully. Pendrell smiled at her. He loved the way she answered for him, showing that she had confidence in his abilities. She got to her feet and started for the door. He rose and joined her. "You've got a chance to prove yourself outside the lab," Scully told him only half- conversationally. "Yep, I'm a virgin," said Pendrell, thinking it was a very witty thing to say. He hadn't realized he'd said it so loudly until he felt people staring at him. He blushed, again. "So to speak. In the field. I mean -" he struggled to explain himself. "Go home and pack," Scully ordered. "I'll pick you up in thirty minutes. " She sighed. "In a red car." She turned and walked quickly to catch the elevator. Pendrell didn't bother following her. He leaned against the wall and sighed. What a moron, he thought, mentally kicking himself. **************** "You're straight on your identity?" Scully asked Pendrell as she pulled to a stop at the end of Ruby Scarlett's driveway. "I'm a very wealthy fan and patron of the Cincinnati Reds." Pendrell repeated. He wondered who had made up the story; he thought it made him sound like an idiot. Couldn't have been Scully, he thought. "And?" she asked. "And I'm your brother," he said reluctantly. He gathered all of his nerve. "I still think we should -" "No!" cried Scully. She could put up with Pendrell, hopefully, because she needed backup and she could probably trust him not to get them killed. But there was no way that she was going to let him fulfill some sick fantasy and pretend he was her husband. No matter how shallow their undercover personas were. She withdrew the key from the ignition and got out of the car. "Come along, Carmine," she called to Pendrell. "Coming, Cerise," he said with a broad grin and a heavy emphasis on the false name. He thought he was being incredibly clever and amusing. Maybe even suave! Scully wished she could tell him to stop being such a dork or he'd get them both killed. The butler approached them. With bright red hair and big red shoes on, he bore striking resemblance to Ronald McDonald. "May I help you, Madam?" he asked in a stuffy voice. "We came for Miss Scarlett's party," Scully replied. "Very good," replied the butler as though he was a robot programmed by someone who watched too many old movies. He lifted their two red plaid suitcases and carried them into the red house. The interior, by its very nature of being decorated almost exclusively in red, looked like a bordello. Ruby Scarlett is one sick lady, Scully thought, looking around. Pendrell leaned over and poked Scully in the arm with a chubby finger. "I like it," he said of the decor with a heavy breath and a sappy grin. Scully smiled before she realized he was serious. Get me out of here, she thought, wondering what she'd done to deserve this. "The festivities have already begun," the butler said with a sniff and left them in an upstairs suite. Pendrell bounced on the bed in his room, which was outfitted with bright red satin sheets. Scully took a glance into her room, which was done up in hot pink, and went into Pendrell's room. In about three minutes, she was certain, her mind was going to overload and lose its ability to see the color red entirely. At this point it would be a relief. "Cool, huh?" grinned Pendrell, bouncing once again. Scully crossed her arms and waited for him to get up. She thinks I'm sexy, he thought, and sat still. "You've got to come over here and feel this," he said, grasping a handful of satin and holding it out. Scully approached cautiously. I've got her eating out of the palm of my hand, Pendrell thought with a cocky grin, just don't say anything stupid. "Kind of makes you want to tear off all your clothes and roll around in it," he said. "Something like that," said Scully wryly, backing away as casually as she could. "Pendrell," she began and stopped. That's just how she says Mulder's name, he thought excitedly. Except, of course, then she says, "Mulder" and not "Pendrell," but otherwise... "Yes?" he said. "I think, since this is your first field assignment and all..." How to put this? Scully wondered. Her diplomatic skills were always tested by Pendrell. "I think it might be wise to let me do most of the talking." Pendrell nodded. "I'm sure I could learn a lot from you, Agent Scully," he said, completely devoted, still rubbing the sheet with one hand. "Pendrell, how old are you?" Scully asked. Oh, she's really interested in me now, Pendrell thought, we're bonding! "I'm thirty," he replied. She nodded. "That's what I thought," she said, and couldn't manage a smile before she turned and went into the hallway. Another cryptic remark, Pendrell thought, but it's all part of her mystique. She likes me, she really likes me! He bounced off the bed and followed her. They went downstairs, where a party was set up and strung out through the entire long first floor. It was seven rooms from end to end, all interconnecting, and with the doors standing open, you could see through all of the rooms from one end to the other. Each was decorated in a progressively darker shade of red. The east end was a very pale, delicate pink color and the seventh room at the west end was a dark red, almost black, the color of dried blood. It was also in the seventh room where the huge, ancient clock stood and chimed every half-hour. The party began in the pink room and progressed. It had done so in the old days of Ruby Scarlett's galas and it had again ever since this one had begun, six days ago. Scully looked around herself carefully. These people did not seem to realize they were being held captives. She recognized several prominent television actresses who were no doubt on their summer hiatus from filming. She had to stop a moment to wonder why it was so popular for women to have red hair, that it was considered sexy, but on men, it was, well...geeky. Pendrell came into her field of vision. Scully's mouth twisted in a wry smile. Question answered, she thought. She looked around again, confirming that Ruby Scarlett was not present. Scully wondered where the woman was; why hadn't she come to her own party? Ruby Scarlett's influence was everywhere. About half of the women had enhanced their hair color with Ruby's signature shade, and were wearing various garish colors of her designer lipstick. The men had red hair, as well, though Scully noticed it was more subtle with them: red highlights on dark hair, mostly. Could be natural, Scully thought, but found the notion unlikely. Many of the men were wearing hideous red suits, though none of them were wearing lipstick. Except one, thought Scully, catching sight of Pendrell. In one hand he held a goblet of red wine. Apparently half a glass was too much for him because he was already looking sappily up at one of the actresses and grinning as she applied her lipstick to his mouth. The clock chimed. The guests began to sweep into the next, slightly darker red room. Scully grabbed Pendrell's arm. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed at him. Pendrell looked at her. Her hand was on his arm. He grinned and half- laughed. She'd grabbed him. This has to mean something! he thought excitedly. He looked at her hand on his arm, and then swished the red wine around in the glass. "Pendrell," he said smoothly, "Agent Pendrell. " "Shut up!" Scully cried, yanking on his arm and drawing him into the corner. "What are you doing, drinking and letting that actress paint your face?" she demanded. She's jealous! Pendrell thought, thrilled. "The better to kiss you with, my dear," he said, convinced he was saying something clever and sexy as he leaned in to try to press his lips to hers. Scully had other ideas, apparently, as her fist connected with his jaw, stopping him. "Don't try that again," she told him and walked away angry. Fine, she thought, she would find Ruby Scarlett and wrap this up herself. Let Pendrell have his fun, she thought, he won't be seeing the outside of the lab again. Pendrell grinned after her as he rubbed his jaw. She's playing hard to get, he thought, she's such a sweet girl. He followed her. ************ End of part one. Comments? eponine119 , eponine119@att.net _________________________________________ eponine119 eponine119@att.net "Beyond the barricade, is there a world you long to see?" - Les Miserables [the musical] From math.ohio-state.edu!usc!chi- news.cic.net!news.math.psu.edu!news.cse.psu.edu!uwm.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!ne ws-e2a.gnn.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsjunkie.ans.net!newsfeeds.ans.net!prodigy.com!usenet Fri Jul 5 11:18:43 1996 Article: 20870 of alt.tv.x-files.creative Path: math.ohio-state.edu!usc!chi- news.cic.net!news.math.psu.edu!news.cse.psu.edu!uwm.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!ne ws-e2a.gnn.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsjunkie.ans.net!newsfeeds.ans.net!prodigy.com!usenet From: eponine119@att.net (eponine119 ) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW: Red Death 2/2 Date: 3 Jul 1996 22:32:05 GMT Organization: Prodigy Services Company 1-800-PRODIGY Lines: 158 Distribution: world Message-ID: <4resd5$4nju@usenetz1.news.prodigy.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: 192.168.254.74 Status: RO Disclaimed in part one. ____________________ The Red Death, part two by eponine119 eponine119@att.net ================== ************** At twelve, the clock would chime and they were to move into the final room. The one with the dark red walls that looked like blood and reminded Scully of death. She didn't want to go in. In fact, she didn't want to be at the party at all. This is your coming plague, Ruby, she thought, shallow people who care only for themselves and their looks. She wondered again why their hostess was not present. She also wondered why she had been called in. These people had no idea they were being held against their will. In fact, they all seemed to be having a great time, trading stories about lipstick and haircolor and sometimes getting daring and switching topic to cars or fashion. It made Scully sick. As did the thought of having to go into that final westmost room with its walls like gore and its faint scent of old, dead roses. Not to mention the huge red clock, ticking down every moment. It reminded her of her own mortality. For a moment, the stereo system stopped and fell into silence. The surprising lack of music made everyone else stop and listen as well. The clock began to chime and Scully could feel each deep note through to her soul. She watched as the partygoers moved en masse into the last room, their eyes unseeing, as though they had no free will. I ought to check the punch for drugs, she thought, maybe Ruby's turned them all into zombies. Speaking of which... Pendrell took Scully's hand in his. His skin was moist and his hand was thick, she noticed, trying hard to resist the urge to squirm and pull away. "Aren't you coming? You must come," Pendrell told her, his blue eyes boring into hers with an intensity and depth she'd never seen in him. She allowed herself to be led into the next room, the one that somehow instilled dread within her. The clock ceased its chiming. The stereo began to play softly the song "Lady in Red." Pendrell stroked the back of Scully's hand with his thumb and looked down at her. "You're the lady in red," he said to her, his voice losing its nasal quality with its volume barely above a whisper. It was just the dorky kind of thing she'd expect him to say, she thought, but somehow now it didn't sound so dumb. What happened? she wondered, and fought it. "All the women here are in red," she pointed out, trying gently to extract her hand from his. "But you're the lady," he said, moving in closer to her. She looked up at his face and it didn't seem so round or innocent or simple anymore. "No," said Scully and she jerked herself away from him, taking a huge step backward. She bumped into something solid and she turned quickly to see what it was that she'd almost upset. It was a coffin. Laid out in the middle of the room was a coffin and in it, her arms crossed serenely over her chest, lay Ruby Scarlett. Scully's mouth dropped open in shock and she reached into the box to touch the woman. She was dead. Scully drew back in horror, looking around her at the oblivious people swirling and dancing all around her. None of them had noticed the coffin or the dead woman in the middle of the room. None of them cared. Scully felt hot tears sting her eyes and blinked them back, still watching the crowd around her in horror. It was truly as though they has all been made zombies and she was the only alert one present. What was it? she wondered, a chemical in the drink? She'd have to get a sample to be analyzed later. The saturation of the color red everywhere they looked? She'd have to ask Mulder if that was psychologically valid. The song "Lady in Red" ended and silence reigned once more. The butler emerged from the shadows and Scully was surprised and also relieved to see he was clad all in black. Silently, he walked up to the coffin in the center of the room and placed the single red rose he carried inside it. Then he turned and was gone. All of the partygoers watched the coffin, silent and subdued. Scully looked around at their faces, all of them blank and seeming the same to her. Each person wore the same color hair, the same lipstick, the same expression. She wondered how she herself looked and felt sick. She turned and left the room as quickly as she could, so she didn't see each person approach the coffin individually and lay their hands upon Ruby Scarlett's body. ***************** "I can't believe this," Scully said, looking over the newspaper as she allowed Pendrell to drive back to DC. "Instead of a story honoring the woman, there's simply a large photograph of her tombstone, which reads 'The First Lady of Lipstick, the Mistress of Death'. And in the caption it points out her first success, the success that made her famous, was her innovative shade of 'Bloodred and Dead'." Scully set the paper aside. "It's terrible," she said and looked at Pendrell. He still didn't seem like himself. "I don't think you understand what was going on there, Agent Scully," he told her quietly. "Just because I didn't get myself blasted out on drugged punch like everyone else, including you -" she argued. "It was so spiritual, Scully," said Pendrell, "I understand why it was an X File." "Yeah, shallowness is a pretty unexplainable phenomenon. As is being obsessed with your looks and bringing them into line with everyone else, making everyone look exactly the same." Scully fought the shudder as the image returned to her of the partygoers who might have been all red headed, red lipped clones of one another. "You don't understand at all. Ruby Scarlett had a special gift. She knew when and how she was going to die, and she made it into a celebration of the things she held dear in life. And then in death she shared that gift with those who were there," Pendrell explained to her. "You're telling me that you now know how and when you're going to die?" Scully demanded, astounded and disgusted. Pendrell nodded and said, "And it has put me at peace with the world around me." "Must've been LSD in the punch," Scully said under her breath. Then, to Pendrell, she said, "I wouldn't want to know. It would make me worried and not at peace with anything. I'd never be able to enjoy another day." She repeated herself firmly, "I wouldn't want to know." "Because you are afraid," Pendrell said. "I am not afraid of death," Scully protested vehemently. "No, not of death." Pendrell said and was silent for a long time. Scully could only watch, fascinated and half scared, wishing he would flash her a goofy grin or say something completely idiotic. He did smile, but it was out the window and it was a serene smile. He'd changed, Scully thought, and wondered if she had too. The end. My apologies to Edgar Allan Poe and Clyde Bruckman. And to anyone who thought this was going to be funny all the way through - I didn't know it would turn out this way till I wrote it. But I kind of like it. Comments are very much appreciated; my email box is always open. :) eponine119 eponine119@att.net _________________________________________ eponine119 eponine119@att.net "Beyond the barricade, is there a world you long to see?" - Les Miserables [the musical]