From: Michele <Michele.Girard@nottingham.ac.uk>
Date: Sat, 20 Jun 1998 18:24:39 +0100
Subject: Sunshine's tape

SUNSHINE'S TAPE

By Michele.
Proud member of UX.

MAIL TO: Michele.Girard@nottingham.ac.uk

ARCHIVE: Gossamer only. Elsewhere: Ask nicely :-)

GENESIS: This story was born out of a fit of giggles,
triggered by the following line from AD Skinner: "I, uh,
reviewed the tape of the session as you requested. I have to
say I wasn't prepared for what I heard on this."

So I took this opportunity to give my own answers to such
Existential questions as:
Why wasn't Buddy prepared?
Has he got a crush on Sunshine?
Are there showers in the Hoover Building?

RATING: This is a harmless little piece of fanfic
rated...PG-13 I suppose. I thought it was better to leave
smut to the experts (said in Sheriff Lucius Hartwell's
drawl). 
Lots and lots of innuendoes though ;-)

CLASSIFICATION: H, a smidgen of angst, Skinner/Scully UST
(albeit unrequited; sorry but you're entering Noromo Zone
here.)

SPOILERS: The Red and The Black. Actually parts of the
script are used in my story.

DISCLAIMER: Scully belongs to Ed Jerse, <ducks behind desk
to avoid flights of blunt instruments thrown by angry
Shippers>, and Mulder belongs to my couch (delusional, moi?)
Oh! All right then, they belong to CC, 1013, FOX, yada
yada...
But you won't keep me from pointing out that after years of
being used (and sometimes abused ;-) ) by fanfic writers,
these characters have acquired a...how shall I put it?
...dimension that goes well beyond the limit of the show.
So there is a big discrepancy between the Mulder& Scully
we see on screen and the ones from fanfic, notably because
the latter have a much healthier sex life.:-)

Mulder's boxer shorts, his Knicks T-shirt (worn by Scully),
his Puppy Dog Look, his pout (hoo boy), Scully's strawberry
shampoo (ugh!), her tattoo, her blue/green/grey stare
(whatever), her short temper before morning coffee, the
motels with adjoining doors, the showers (hey! looky!
adjoining doors as well!), Scully's bed, Mulder's couch (and
dry-clean leather spray), the motel beds (with soft cotton
sheets), the filing cabinets <EG> and last but certainly not
least Skinner's oval desk: all these belong to the X-Philes.

But of course deep down everybody knows M&S *really* belong
to Dawson Rambo and Madeleine Partous <bowing with profound
respect>.

Oh! And did I mention I do not intend to *infringe* anybody?
Wait! On second thought I might want to infringe Mulder.
<HEG>

ANYWAY...

This story is dedicated to Cat for putting up with my pidgin
English and for the sheer Scully-like self control she must
have had to muster when she beta read this.
Being the evil shipper she is I am sure she was dying to
change the ending and make sure that some of the characters
did use *that* oval desk. 
//Ha! Self-control? I have no control over fits of
giggles...as for desk-usage, Krycek isn't even *in* this
story <eg>//


**************************************************************
Part One: REMOTE PLAUSIBILITY.

<click>

"OHMYGOD! OOH, MY GOD! OOOH, MY GOD!" 

Assistant Director Walter Skinner felt his jaw drop; he was
sure his chin was about to meet the dark polished wood of
his
immaculate desk right then.

<click>
<rewind>

"OHMYGOD! OOH, MY GOD! OOOH, MY GOD!"

It was undoubtedly her voice. Special Agent Dana Scully MD,
the very significant other half of the X-Files division,
partner of Agent Fox Mulder, Pain In The Ass Extraordinaire.

There were many things in which Walter Skinner did not
believe. He did not believe in UFOS, he did not believe in
liver-eating mutants, he did not believe Mulder actually
*bought* his ties.

And at this very moment he did not believe this tape.

There was fear in that voice, and that in itself was
unusual,
coming from Agent Scully, whose elocution betrayed a brain
as well organized as a military hierarchy, everything neat
and tidy - under control - her emotions securely handcuffed
somewhere in a double locked basement deep inside
her mind, out of reach of mere mortals.

To say it was uncanny was an understatement.

Whatever she was witnessing had to be an earth-shattering
Revelation to trigger such a powerful reaction.

Fear and awe. No doubt about that.

But there was something else besides...an unbridled
passion...something raw and wild.

He'd seen it flicker in her eyes on the rare occasions when
she'd allowed the audience (namely him) the privilege of
being the focus of her now legendary bursts of anger.

-Fuck you, sir-

Well of course she never said it aloud, she didn't need
to...she just pinned him with that special gaze of hers that
spoke volumes...and when she did so, he swore he could feel
icicles forming in very inappropriate places of his anatomy.

He kinda liked it...

-my pleasure, Agent Scully-

<Walter, you are one sick puppy...> complained his inner
voice.

<click>

"Where are you, Dana?"

"Oh...I'm, uh...I'm with the others."

"Are you in the night place?"

"Yes..."

On the tape Scully was describing what appeared to be an
alien ship. Her voice was pitched higher than usual and had
a peculiar edge to it, a mixture of childlike wonder and
adult terror.

"...and then it was gone."

"What is it, Dana?"

"It's, oooh...they're back."

Yeah, sure...something was back here too, something he
usually had to deal with in the morning when he woke up.

<Focus, Walter!>

He turned his attention back to Dr Werber's voice.

"Who?"

"Oh, no, they're...they're on fire!"

<click>

"You have no idea how much I sympathise," Skinner muttered
between clenched teeth. He hooked a finger in the knot of
his tie to loosen it and swallowed with difficulty.

<click>

"Oh god! They're setting them on fire. I can't..."

"Who? Who's doing this?"

"Their faces, I...they have no faces. Oh...they have no
eyes."

<The woman is in shock.> Skinner tried to find a more
comfortable position in his seat, a bit of a challenge in
his...condition.

"Oh god! They're coming at us! They're surrounding us! They
won't stop! They won't stop it...oh..."

A sound between a growl and a moan escaped Skinner's lips as
he sank further into his armchair.

"There's...there's another one. There's another ship. They
see it. They are attacking them."

"Who were they attacking, Dana?"

"The...the faceless men. They're...Oh my god, I can't..."

<click>

"...concentrate if you keep breathing like this for Christ's
sake!!!"

Skinner slammed his fist down in frustration, stood up and
started to pace the room like a wolf with stereotopy.

<OK, Walt, try to remember whom you're listening to,> he
scolded himself.

This is Agent No Nonsense Scully. You've heard the rumours
still floating around at the Academy.

They say she took up forensic pathology because she likes
dealing with people who express as many feelings as she
does.

They say that if they took her temperature, there's no
guarantee the corpse would win.

They say she keeps Jack Willis' balls as a trophy in her
freezer.

They say Mulder's been drinking anti-freeze for five years.
They swear they can hear ice cubes sounds coming from his
trousers every time he walks by.

They say a lot of things - rude things - about blow jobs and
Eskimos...

They admire her though, in a way; they say it must take a
lot of guts to have gone through Hell and back -several
times- as she did. But then they add that Hell must feel
like home - it was bound to have frozen over by now.

Yeah, he'd heard the rumours.

So what was this fire he kept hearing in the voice of the
Ice Queen?

He cast a glance at Janet Reno's portrait and felt the
tension in his body recede slightly. He sat again, 
removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

<Right.>

<click>

"Do you want to stop, Dana?"

"No. Now it's coming at us. Oh my god! No! Cassandra!"

"Where's Cassandra?"

"They're...they're taking her. They're...Oh my god. I
can't..."

<Don't I know that...> sighed the AD, closing his eyes in
resignation.

"Dana? Dana, I'm going to stop now. I want you to open your
eyes."

"No. I..."

"I want you to open your eyes, Dana, and come on back. Dana,
I want you to open your eyes and come on back to us."

<click>

Skinner followed Dr Werber's last instructions: he opened
his eyes, jumped out of his armchair and all but ran out his
office, the words "Freezing Cold Shower" flashing in his
mind like a beacon.

End of part one...

**************************************************************
Part Two: THE NATURE OF THE WHAMMY.

Skinner was fiddling nervously with the tape. The two agents
Were sitting in their usual places, waiting for him to
speak.

Mulder seemed to be annoyed at something. Well, at least
that was something Skinner could deal with.

He shot a quick, nervous glance at Scully.  With the burns
on her face she looked like a battered wife, but her eyes
were calm and cool as usual; none of the turmoil that must
still be roaring inside her after the latest events rippled
at the surface of those pale jade pools.

<What is the cost of that control of yours, Dana Scully?>

<And this, coming from Mr Congeniality himself!> scoffed his
inner voice.

He stopped toying with the tape abruptly.
<Right, here we go!>

"I, uh, reviewed the tape of the session as you
requested..."

Skinner paused. Both agents were staring at him, waiting for
him to continue.

<Do I look as nervous as I feel?> he wondered.

<Where was I...Ah, yes. I reviewed the tape of the session
as you requested and I was so aroused by Agent Scully's
cries and laboured breathing that I could have lifted my
desk in a way that is definitely not mentioned in the
mover's manual.
Er...no, strike that, try something more sedate...>

He tried to draw an inconspicuous breath.

"I have to say, I wasn't prepared for what I heard on this."
<Much better, a bit breathless towards the end though.>

Scully bit her lip, visibly ill at ease.

<Good, at least I'm not the only one who'd rather be
anywhere
but here. Besides, I love it when she does that, almost as
much as I like that...thing she does with the tip of her...>

<OH! nonono! Walter, don't go there!> panicked his mental
voice.

"No, sir. Neither was I," Scully answered in a low voice,
before averting her gaze.

<Awww...isn't she sweet when she's embarrassed?>

Skinner suddenly realized that she was in a far worse
position
than he was: she had had her deepest emotions displayed on a
tape, unfiltered by the hypnosis, while he on the other hand
had merely been listening and...reacting...OK, quite
strongly so...but...
<Oh shut up!>

Skinner turned his attention to Mulder.

"Agent Mulder?"

"I'm familiar with the regression process and Dr. Werber's
work. I've heard hundreds of these types of abduction
scenarios."

<AH! Abductions, familiar ground again!>

Skinner almost let out a satisfied sigh.

"Well, what do you make of this one?"

"The imagery is startling but not atypical: bright lights,
weightlessness, stolen memory, lost time expressed as a
close encounter, an abduction, religious rapture as a kind
of dark night of the soul."

Skinner's eyes narrowed as he processed Mulder's comments.

<Dark night of the Soul? Awww...he's gone into Doomed Poet
mode again! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Agent
Mulder, Lord Byron's evil twin, mad, bad and dangerous to
know...and what was that? Religious rapture? RELIGIOUS? The
only religious thing about Agent Scully's rapture is that it
gave me an instant knowledge of a deadly sin!
Mulder, my boy, if you think she sounded religious then I
Should stop worrying about the exact nature of your
partnership, because you obviously just can't take a hint!>

The AD drew a deep breath.

<Right. Let's go for something neutral...>

"Expressed?"

"Described and then interpreted into a linear narrative, a
gestalt impression of a subjective, non-linear experience."

<Non-linear experience...yeah, you bet, with those
curves...>
<Get a grip for Christ sake!>
<HEH HEH! I wish I could!>
<WALT!>

"And your interpretation?"

"That Agent Scully witnessed a very powerful event, not
unlike
the one I described on my regression tape of the false
memory of my sister's abduction."

Skinner repressed a chuckle.
<Yep! But *your* regression tape wasn't such a turn-on!>

He turned towards the small woman who was sitting with her
back ramrod straight. In Doctor Scully's world, backrests
were made for other people.

Doctor Scully... who wears silk blouses and dark suits and a
tattoo in the small of her back.
<Don't THINK about the tattoo, Walt!>

"Agent Scully?"

"I've listened to the tape several times, and I don't have a
clear recollection of what I hear myself saying, but I also
don't see any reason why I'd be saying it." Her voice was
soft and almost apologetic.

<Oooh Dana, *I* can see at least a few reasons why you might
be calling out to God at the top of your voice...>

<Stop that! This is a serious matter you're dealing with!>
The stern AD part of him was getting seriously pissed off.

"I've got a problem..." Skinner started.
<I want your partner right now on the oval desk, Mulder, is
that a problem?>
<Stop this right now, Walt!>
<Spoilsport!>
<Do your job!>
<Pfff...>

"...And the problem is, I have to head up the investigation
into this incident. I don't have the luxury of
interpretation."

<Like hell you don't!>

"I have to make a report, and that report must state a
reason or cite a fact, or at least make an assumption. As I
sit here right now, I'm unable to do that. I need to know
what happened."

"It was staged."

"To?"

"To test a classified military project, or to cover it up."

"Then I wanna know what happened to Cassandra Spender."

"Cassandra Spender was taken aboard a military aircraft, as
part of the staging."

Skinner sighed; yeah, if Fox Mulder was ready to throw out
of the window every belief he had so dearly cherished, then
it was really serious...and dangerous.

Scully's eyes were suspiciously bright, and it startled him.

<Scully only cries when Mulder dies.>

It had happened twice already. And he guessed he was
witnessing a third occurrence, only this time more
insidious. Mulder was dying from the inside.
He could not let this happen to him.
He could not let this happen to *her*.

<Time to show Spooky a little support...>

"Over the past five years I've doubted you, only to be
persuaded by the power of your belief in extraterrestrial
phenomena, and I'm doubting you now, not because of that
belief, but...because extraterrestrial phenomena is,
frankly, the more plausible explanation."

<That's pushing the support a bit far, don't you think
Walt?>

"Then I suggest you put that in your report."

<And be called Uncle Spooky? Never!>

Mulder stood up and left. There was an awkward silence as
the door closed behind him.

Scully looked shaken, and she was trying so hard not to show
it that Skinner felt the urge to stand up, wrap her in his
arms and whisper soothing nonsense into her ear.

But of course he didn't - this was the Hoover building, not
Barbara Cartland's. Besides there were parts of his body he
was still quite attached to. She aimed at the shoulder when
she *cared* for you and he was in no hurry to gain an
octave.

Instead he looked at her with all the compassion he could
muster, hoping she would not mistake that for pity.

"Oh well, I guessed I tried..."

She looked at him, and he saw the process actually taking
place. Her walls coming up to hide the vulnerability he had
just witnessed. Back came the unflappable Doctor Scully who
sliced corpses for a living and used sharp steel - and
occasionally her eyes - to open people up.

"Thank you, sir."

Despite the relative coldness of her voice, he knew she
meant it.

She stood up and held her hand.

"Can I have the tape back?"

<NO! MINE!>

Skinner cleared his throat.

"Umm...I...er...of course but, er...I need to make copies
for the record..."

Her green piercing gaze scanned him slowly.

<Uh-oh, trouble! Autopsy time!>

Skinner was suddenly feeling very hot and very naked, and it
was a big relief to know the second impression wasn't real.
He
silently thanked the inventor of loose pants and sensible
briefs. He held her gaze as well as he could and waited for
her diagnosis.

"I understand," was all she said.

Trust Dana Scully to deal with everything with the minimum
of fuss and the maximum of efficiency. Those two words could
convey so many meanings. He just had to pick and choose the
right ones...and that was the whole problem...

I understand this tape is important to you.
I understand this tape is the only evidence of what happened
out there.
I understand this is the only evidence you will ever get of
who I really am, how I sound like inside.
I understand this tape could change our vision of the world
as we know it.
I understand Mulder and I could perfectly well take care of
making copies.
I understand this tape could be the first tangible proof of
the existence of an alien species.
I understand how you feel, Walter.
I understand what my voice does to you.
I understand your need.

<Do you really?>
<Of course she doesn't, Walt, you'd be dead meat in a steel
drawer if she did!>

She turned to leave, and Skinner let himself admire the way
her body moved with a sad resigned half smile.

Just as she was laying her hand on the doorknob, she stopped
And looked over her shoulder.

"Sir?"

Skinner moved his gaze upwards, abruptly stopping his
inventory of all the places where he would like very much to
lay his own hands.

"Yes, Agent Scully?"

She had a somewhat smug little smile playing on her lips,
and an elusive spark of mischief danced in her eyes. 

"Don't leave the tape lying around in the bullpen. No need
to kill the myth."

With those words, she opened the door and left.

Missing the great view of a speechless, gaping and utterly
Stunned Assistant Director.

After what seemed like an eternity Skinner slowly removed
his glasses, clasped his hands on his face, threw his neck
back, and started to laugh.


                            FIN

I am NOT going to beg for feedback...er...well...you
know...it would be kinda nice...really...