From: Hillary Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2000 21:08:23 GMT Subject: NEW:symphonia en vert NC-17 1/5 Title : symphonie en vert, The Sequel to Concerto: Red Author: Hillary phriendly11@yahoo.com Send Feedback, please. Essential to LIFE. Homepage with fanfic< including Concerto: Red www.homestead.com/hilsphishpage/fanfic.html Rated : NC- 17 ( for language, consensual sex, graphic description, illegal drug use, and really bad language.) Summary: Jealousy has it's price. Spoilers: The Trailer for en ami, and the clip of the quote on the Official Site from that episode... None other, save for those from Concerto :Red Disclaimer : I don't own these characters. I have a hard time believing that, since Jeffrey keeps telling me that he's all mine. Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Kimberly, Maggie and the lone Gunmen come courtesy of Chris Carter. CSM and Jeffrey Spender are black lunged bastards. Thanks to : YOU! for reading. Super thanks to Jessica, master-ninja beta, who not only made me write this, she also cheered from the sidelines and kept up the morale. YAY! Also thanks to my muse, Jeffrey, none other! He waves a hello and wants you all to know what a sick bastard he is. I'd let him yell at you as he yells at me about my being such a "fucking controlling bitch" but I don't want anyones feelings getting hurt! ** This story is a sequel to one entitled " Concerto: Red" I'd suggest you read it not only to see my take on Diana Fowley's death, and so you can play along. www.homestead.com/hilsphishpage/fanfic.html. If you'd rather just go into unseen territory, the essential things you need to know is that Jeffrey Spender is not only alive and well, but he's working for is daddy and chain smokes Morleys. He's also a little wacko, extremely jealous, and uses a lot of profanity - Oh, did I mention that he has an obsession for one Dana Scully? *** *** *** There is such pleasure in watching. It can be smooth, sensual, something voyeuristic and hazy. You can watch mothers and children in the park and savor their relationship as your own. Your mind can fabricate the tiniest detail. Fantasy becomes reality. Tonight is Monday, so she'll be home later than normal. Every Monday she arrives a little more tired, her hand lingers on the answering machine as she pushes "play"; the other hand removes her earrings, tiny things, and places them on the table. And then her most miraculous transformation; she simultaneously removes suit jacket and shoes, instantly becoming diminutive and lightly clothed. How I adore watching her. My hands drum the desk lightly and I glance at my watch. Afternoon, and my father is running late. Typical of him, I think to myself. He has been slower lately, age catching up with him as well as the effects of brain surgery gone awry. I reach for my Morleys, intent on passing the time and enjoying an uninterrupted cigarette. I have an affection for things that are naughty. Cigarette smoking enlightened me in that. It took some persuasion, but my father had provoked me to the point that I formed an addiction. And once the addiction sets in, the love affair with it began. I have found such meaning in cigarettes. They are a reliable ally in times of stress, they are soothing to smoke, and they have an air of danger. Not because they can kill you, either, though that certainly is a factor, but the allure of something deadly, something that should be forbidden, something that some people find repulsive. That is the magic, the love and the hate. Killing comes second, murder as assignment is a job that's practically stress free. And then there is my unwavering devotion to Dana Scully, which is the most naughty of all. I think of laughing aloud, just to hear it, but my father arrives, succinctly evaporating the notion with the scuffle of his feet on the floor. " Jeffrey." He says , looking at me with an air of suspicion. " Father." I say casually, and hand him a cigarette. He accepts and lights it, throwing his face into momentary golden shadows with the flame. He stands over me a minute ; smoking, as I sit and look up at him, he then smiles and sits . Power game playing motherfucker, I think to myself. " You're late." I say, trying to regain the high ground. " Unavoidable detentions." " I have things to do tonight" " Work?" He asks, and then added " or are you planning on watching Dana Scully come home from work again?" I freeze. " I don't know what you are talking about." I say mildly, and take a final drag before snubbing it out and raising my eyes to meet his. " Jeffrey, when will you learn ?" He said. " When will I learn what ? " I replied, still feigning innocence. " That your lies are apparent before you even manage to utter them. I know that you have been watching her for some time now. I chose this moment for a purpose to let you know that I was aware of your little habit." " My what?" I said, attempting to add some chagrin to my tone . He shakes his head at me. It's futile to continue my dishonesty, and so I raise my hands in surrender. " I do watch her." " Fox Mulder wouldn't like that." " What my brother does and does not like doesn't mean a flying fuck to me. That pretentious asshole can suck -" . " Jeffrey, Jeffrey. " He puts out and lights another cigarette and watches me with unconcealed disdain " there's no need for your hostility." I sigh and lean back into my chair. " Is there a problem with watching her?" I ask coolly. He frowns and answers " No. I just need the key to her apartment." " You what?" I exclaimed, outraged. How could he even propose entering her most private domain, her arena that's solely on display for my secret pleasure. Here he is, ruining my fun, taking away what I live for; rubbing my devotion to her in my face. And now he wants her fucking apartment key. Does he have any idea how difficult obtaining that key was for me? No, of course fucking not! " I said I need the key. You have it. I need it. It is simple as that, Jeffery." " Why?" . " I need to pay her a visit." I felt sudden fear that his visit means the worst thing possible, " What kind of visit?" My tone is simultaneously timid and hostile. I hold my breath until he answers " It's regarding your brothers sister, Samantha. " " Samantha?" I ask dumbly. He eyes me with contempt. " You don't need any more details." " You won't hurt Dana ?" I whine. He looks at me for a moment before chuckling, a low sound that I rarely hear from him and hate. He didn't answer my question, and instead extends his hand towards me. " The key, Jeffrey." *** *** Surveillance equipment is a good investment. Only the good kind, of course; minuscule devices with cameras and microphones that can be successfully hidden; tiny, unnoticed eyes. The image of my father is grainy; his voice is wobbly; as he sits in Dana Scullys living room, waiting. I hold my breath. He could have lied about this visit, and I could witness her last breaths. He could be exhausted from her constant prodding, her intolerable poking, and her support of Fox Mulder in the pursuit of all things spooky. But, as she enters and obliviously runs for her phone, which is ringing, and misses it, my father looks nervous. And sad. He has been this way since Teena Mulders death. I watch with amusement as Dana nearly looks surprised, then re-composed, as though her shock were a mere ripple in the face of the pond. Their meeting is brief and vaguely cryptic. I watch until he leaves her, parting with words on the meaning of Fox Mulder's hope. She closes the door and crumples, like a delicate flower, sliding down the doorframe and then I can hear her breathing. Fast, staccato breaths. She waits, perhaps counting, perhaps re- living the conversation until she stands again, and begins to undress. As she walks to her bedroom, fingers undoing buttons down her shirt, she looks into one of the cameras. I smile to find she is still oblivious to their existence. *** *** Continued in Part two *** *** In the background, Dana Scully's video replays as I wait for my prostitute, pseudonym Maya. I don't call prostitutes for the sexual nature they invariably have; I call them because I adore the company of petite red - haired women, and all of my prostitutes are that; petite and red haired. Preferably with azure eyes and full lips, but I have a good imagination if not. The doorbell rings; I stop the tape. Dana had been reaching for her phone as the television went dark. I fingered the screen lightly. She is as I hoped; almost a younger sister of Dana, if she had a younger sister. hair is than Dana's, too, it brushes her shoulders. But the eyes, they are perfect. Guiless. Practically innocent. I welcome her in and she mumbles her name to me, in case I had not heard it already or had forgotten. She sits on the bed and looks at me, and I think how perfect she is, how incredibly well chosen for me. " It's Two- Fifty per hour. I'll do whatever you ask" she licks her lips and smiles at me. " anything- as long as you ask nicely." " Let's talk first?" I ask, keeping my voice even and kind - sounding. I don't want her fearing me. She doesn't. She continues to beam up at me on the bed and I sit beside her. " Maya- " I say, very patiently. " How are you today?" She looks a little surprised, and then smiles more brightly " Great, uh -" " Mike" I say, and smile back. " So, Mike, what do you do for a living?" She pulls her purse from her shoulder and begins to rummage through it, something I find distracting until she extracts a bottle of neon - green liquid and follows it with a smaller, clear liquid filled one.. " What's that?" " My medicine" she says, with a brilliant smile. My eyes narrow " What kind of fucking medicine - look -" " Hey, hey honey calm down. I work at a vet in the daytime, you know, kitties and puppies and such. This is what we give them before surgery." She took a needle from her purse, and took another, small, clear liquid bottle. " We use this for sedative. The two together make you real, real, calm. Suggestible. Super happy and friendly. I just take a -" she held her fingers, well manicured, in the air and spaced thumb and pointer finger a millisecond apart " teeny bit to keep me in the mood." " What are they called?" I ask, now fascinated with the bottles. She takes a small needle from a sealed bag and opens it, cracking the bottom seal open and twisting off the top. She held the top in between her teeth and took a- fourth of a tenth of a cc of the neon green liquid and then a dash of the clear. She recapped the needle and looked back up at me. " Ketamine and Ace Promazine. " Then she turned back on that million watt smile and said prettily, " want some?" I shook my head, but thought about the possibilities. This could be a useful tool for me. One that I could use on Dana Scully when she comes back from California with my fuck - face brother. Maybe if I get her a little sedated and listens to me, she will look at me and realize exactly what kind of man I am, and that I'm certainly a better bet than brother Fox. Maya uncapped the needle again after prepping her left upper arm with an alcohol swab. She stuck the plunger in and grimaced. " Burns" she said, and then closed her eyes. I reach for my wallet and pull the two hundred and fifty dollars and place it on her thigh. " Three hundred for the two bottles and some needles?" I ask. Her eyes narrow and she regards me with hesitation. " Lemme think about it Mike." I frown but nod. She lies back on the bed, her body loose and relaxed. " I'd like to watch you.." I said, and reached for a can of shaving cream " run this all over yourself." She looks amused but takes the can and places it alongside her thigh. With a careful and well- practiced movement she tosses the black, tight fitting shirt onto the white bedspread. She unhooks her bra, exposing well shaped, firm breasts. Her hands fumble with her short skirt a moment, and pantyhose follows until she is naked. She takes the can and sprays some foam onto her bare stomach, rubbing it in slowly, sensually. I watch, nonplused. I close my eyes and see Dana, stretching out languidly before me, her hands in foamy white creme. I open them and transpose my Dana onto the gyrating Maya. Her hands, so small and perfect, become Dana Scully's hands. They wield shaving foam like a well - trained goddess, the same fingers that can pull the trigger on a gun and perform autopsies. And then her neck changed, clean and white with no defection, it arches . If I close my eyes I can see the tiny gold cross shimmering there. I stand to watch her and flick off the light, so she is only shadows. Her hands make a circuit of her breasts, tiny breasts so perfectly formed and easy to caress, if I would reach my hands out to touch them. But I don't. She isn't complete. Parts of her is still tainted as the prostitute, while others are only her; my sweet, delicious Dana. Her hands make a trip to the nether regions, they brush hair, dissolve in the soft folds until they are up again. I spray more cream onto her torso, she smiles at me and rubs it in, making eye contact that glitters in the dark. My cock is so hard.... In this light she becomes simple, innocent, the last traces of Maya wash to Dana as she bathes herself in silver white foam. So fucking exquisite. Her hands reach towards me and meet surface; they run over the bulge in my trousers and linger there appreciatively. I move towards her, she smiles, her white teeth glitter in the darkened room. I can see *her* fully now, she is totally my Dana, my beautiful one, my most pure treasure. Her lips part in a bowed "O" as she opened them to welcome my length. Time isn't anything when I'm like this, in this delirium of adoration for her, the goddess I can't have in reality. I feel those lips, lips that I have convinced myself belong to that woman, that epiphany of flesh. I came and she swallows. That is reality, if anything. I just can't envision Dana Scully swallowing with such unabashed glee. " Cigarette?" I ask Maya. She nods. I light one for the both of us, and pass it to her. " Thanks" she mumbles, and grins. " Hell, honey, a head job is only seventy- five." " Really?" I say, and take a long inhalation. I exhale and she swings her legs from the bed. " Keep what I gave you. Here's for the rest." She looks confused for a moment, and then reaches for the two near full vials. " All right-" She begins to hand them to me and then jerks away, in that way that some people think is playful but it really isn't. I grab her wrists and they hang in the air. " No one is to know about this. Is that agreed?" I say, my voice gravel - low, in the way I have perfected since Diana Fowley's death. That killing gave me that special kind of joy. The gift that kept on giving. It taught me that nothing is more penetrating than a menacing tone of voice. " Sure." She says, unfazed. " Now, the dose is a tenth of a cc per ten pounds. Okay? That's important. That's the full dose too. That will get you fucking plastered, man- so watch out. And it's easy to overdose on the ace, so watch it. " "What if I need more?" Another surprised- slow grin. " Well, you know where to find me." She walks to the bathroom in a sexy boudoir fashion. As though she knows her beauty. But, it's flawed. Not near as perfect as my angel. Maya closes the door to the bathroom, I tuck my cigarettes into my jacket. This evening, I muse, as I press "eject" on the VCR, has been such an inspirational success. *** *** Three Weeks Later. Fuck California. That's where she's flying in from . Again. California. With him, as usual. On another one of *their * cases. I snub out my cigarette and tap my foot impatiently. She's late. Her plane got in a half an hour ago and it's not like she lives a fucking hour away from National. I'm impatient, but it's time. I've waited long enough and tonight is definitely the night. Everything is prepared, well planned, exacted. I will be taking Dana Scully with me tonight and convince her, with systematic precision, that she is pissing her life away with Fox Mulder. I hear the key turn in the lock and burrow further in her closet, the smell of dry-cleaning and perfume wafted in and out of my nostrils. Voices. " ......thought........you might.....dinner?" " Not tonight Mulder....I'm exhausted." She's in the bedroom. I flattened myself against the wall but the door didn't open. I sigh with relief when she walks away, click , click, click, then - " I'll see you at eight. Now, Good- night Mulder." " .......Goodnight, Scully". Click, click, click; door close. I let a long breath silently through my teeth. . My hands clutch at bagged garments impatiently. She checks her messages, such clockwork. Three of them. Her mother, a telemarketer, a reminder about the U. S Census... I uncap the needle and turn the handle to the door slowly. It opens with a soft squeak. I see her gun in it's holster on top of her jacket, a casual misplacement. I move towards her form, in the kitchen, reaching for a cup. " Dana." She freezes . Not a muscle moved. " Hello, Dana." She turns , slowly. Her hands hold the cup with stiff fingers. She looks at me and her mouth drops open. " Jeffery - But....what the fuck are you doing in my apartment? We thought you were dead! " She jerks from the counter and simultaneously tosses the cup in my direction. I duck and pocket the syringe. She crosses the kitchen, heading towards her bedroom and, presumably, her gun. I lunge forward and grab her, my fingers pressing into her arm. She twirls herself around and strikes me; a hard slug across my cheek. " Dana!" I exclaim. She tries to break free but I hold on tighter, and then cross my arm over her chest and collarbone , my forearm resting across the arch of her neck. I fumble for the syringe, she grabs my arms and pulls at them, her nails digging past my jacket to dully cause some pain. She kicks at my shins, forceful little beatings that I grimace from with each impact. My fingers finally close around the syringe and I extract it; flicking off the plastic top covering the bevel and plunge it into her arm. She gives a gasp of shock and struggles forcibly once more until she finally stills. I feel her go limp in my arms and yet she still flings her arms sluggishly about, her breathing staccato and forced. I turn her to face me; she stares back glassy eyed. Bingo! I thought to myself as I easily lifted her and place her on the couch. Eight Twenty Eight PM, first dose, successful- is the mental note I make to myself. *** *** Please meander to the third section... *** *** If I were normal I'd be normal, and that is the problem. The problem is that I can't identify normal; I can't identify anything, and it all seems outrageously funny which makes little or no sense. But it's funny. Laughter echoes in my head and nothing comes out of my mouth. Silent fucking laughter! That's novel. My eyes are open but it's all opaque, dancing shadows on the wall, unidentifiable , hilarious. I try to close them but they seem sticky and gummy and uncooperative. Where did Jeffery go? No where? Any where? So funny. I laugh and laugh and it causes little spurts and splashes of colors in my hazy vision. Drugged. Totally drugged. I can remember it; the prick; but I no longer feel anything. Hands, arms, legs, face - all numb. I giggle again, and try to think logically, but there is no logic. I'm in a trunk . Amazing how that's come to me, but once you get stuffed in a trunk once it's impossible to forget the sensation and the fumes. How long I have been in this trunk evades me. In fact, it is amazing to me that I have made the association in my near blindness and the incredible disconnection I feel from reality. " I am logical!" somewhere in my head that echoes, obviously the rational sound part of myself that I am unable to communicate with. Echoes, echoes, echoes of laugher from inside me, but nothing verbal. I try to close my eyes, they burn. It seems we go on for a while and I realize I'm hallucinating. A bathtub. Waiting for the sun. Mulder. Mulder. God, Mulder. I need you, Mulder, Ms. Rational whispers, and the hysterical part of me agrees. Mulder has to find out what's going on here, but that seems downright impossible from a car trunk. It stops. Non movement and then a light above, the trunk and I can't move still. He is there, I can feel him, smell cigarette smoke but no true definition. I wish I could cry, but the goo keeping my eyes open must also be preventing my tears. *** *** The car ride is another success. We arrive at the place a quarter past midnight. There is no lights on, so I go and turn them on before returning to the trunk to pick up my little sleeping princess. I need to get online and check out some of the side effects of ketamine. Her eyes were open; yet unblinking and apparently unable to see. And she's limp, like a doll, and I like that. But most disconcerting is she doesn't speak. Her mouth doesn't even move. She is just laying here when I pop the trunk open, stiff and still. " Hi." I say softly. She is immobile. I scoop her up and carry her through the door and place her carefully on the couch, she sits there just as I leave her. I look at her a moment before going to get the bags of clothes and other items I took from her apartment. On my way back in, I grab her laptop and sit it on the kitchen counter. Bags inside and Dana still unmoving, I sit on a stool before the screen of her computer and send my dear brother an email: TO: FWMULDER@FBI.GOV FROM : DKSCULLY@FBI.GOV RE: Absence from Work for a Few Days PRIORITY: High Mulder: I have to go on a trip for a few days. Take care of yourself and don't hold off on any cases. I'll call you with an update ASAP! Scully I press "send" and grin with my own incredible cunning intelligence. I look over at my little doll, she still sits , open- eyed staring at the wall ahead of her. Would my simple minded brother believe the e- mail? I stand from the stool and move beside Dana, and place my hand on her knee. *** *** When Scully was late to work I got a little concerned. Not that I actually arrived *on time* to work this morning. She'd been tired lately, and I brought coffee and doughnuts to hopefully make her smile, and therefore accomplish the task of undergoing another good working day with Scully. But nine rolled around and no Scully. I decided to check my e-mail after the repeated " The Cellular customer you are trying to reach..." burned an invisible hole in my ear and I'd gotten her home machine at least ten times. The email waited in my inbox. From Scully, which was a little odd, since she hardly ever sent emails. And the email itself was short, it had no description and didn't mention where - or with whom- she was going. I stared at the screen and felt that uneasy Scully's in trouble feeling I get in times like these. Radar. I would have laughed if the feeling weren't so suddenly dire. In dialed her mothers number from memory, she answered on the third ring, slightly out of breath. " Hello?" " Mrs. Scully?" " Fox? Hi there! How are you?" " Fine- Uh, listen, I'm looking for Dana- " " Oh no," she said, instantly worried. " She sent me an email and said she needed to go away. I was just wondering if you knew where she was going.." Somewhat calmer, she replied " No, Fox, I'm sorry. Dana didn't mention a trip - in fact, I called her yesterday, but she hadn't called me back." " Hmm" I murmured. " Are you worried about this?" Mrs. Scully asked softly. " No. No, and you shouldn't be either. We've been doing a lot of traveling lately, maybe she just needed a break." " Maybe. But it doesn't seem like her to just leave town without even calling me." " I know. " I mused, and tapped my pencil along the computer screen. It made a pinging noise. " You know I'll call if she contacts me." " That would be great, I'll do the same. " Conversation over, I said my good-byes and hung up the phone. I called Skinner's office to see if she had called in. " Assistant Director Skinners Office, this is Kimberly, how can I help you?" " Hi Kimberly. This is Fox Mulder." " Oh hi, " she said. " Listen, did my partner call you this morning about taking some time off of work?" " Hmm, actually, she didn't. Did she not come in today?" " No. She left me some cryptic email - " My voice was rising, and I checked it, and sighed. " I don't know where she is." " Well, A.D Skinner is out of his office right now, but I'll have him call when he gets back. Will that be all right?" " Sure" I answered, and hung up the phone. I pulled the keyboard towards me and pressed "reply." *** *** " Honey?" I sit beside her on the couch and hand her some coffee. In the middle of the night I'd given her another three- fourths dose. It's wearing off some now , and she can actually move in an android fashion I find incredibly alluring. I want to tell her things and hear her answer so I could make her see *why* I brought her here. That is something to work on. She sips the coffee silently, her eyes fixed on the television ahead and I turn it on. " Time to watch soap operas!" I say, with some glee. I watch them every day. " They give you perspective, " I murmurto her blinking self. " And some fun." First commercial break I jump up to check Dana's computer, chiming in the kitchen with the message of new mail. I press"open" and smile at the contents: TO: DKSCULLY@FBI.GOV < Dana Katherine Scully, M.D> FROM : FWMULDER@FBI.GOV < Fox William Mulder> RE: RE: Absence from work for a few days PRIORITY: High Scully: Please just tell me where you are. Your mom and Skinner don't know where you are and I think you owe me and them by letting us know where it is that you have gone . If you need a few days, that's fine, I understand. This isn't like you. Please call or let me know somehow that you are safe and how I can reach you. Mulder. I laugh as I light a cigarette. How fucking epic! How many times could the dumbass say " let me know where you are!" A puppy. That's all he is. Wagging his tail, following her with dogged and cloaked admiration. The show's back on and muted voices fill the kitchen. I press "reply" Mulder, A suggestion : Fuck Off! I hit send and giggle as I inhale. It's always best to keep a man guessing. *** *** Soap operas. I can move my hands and that's good. But I still remain silent and jittery and relaxed, all at once. It's frustrating. Jeffery went away, to another part of the house and left me staring at the television screen. A woman with long brown hair was tied to a chair and begging an unseen someone for help. I never watch soap operas. I don't know how long I have been here but I am willing to bet it's over twelve hours. Soap operas are on in the daytime, and it was around eight last night that he'd showed up in my apartment.... Logic still eludes me. It comes into focus, like the television screen, and then I grasp it and it falls away, as quickly as it appears. Jeffery comes back in, still with cigarette, and a syringe. He holds it in the light and I think I nearly recognize it. He puts it on the coffee table and looks at the screen. " Poor Hope" he says. Who the hell is Hope? I think of throwing the coffee mug, and that seems funny to me. Funny that I am so devoted to doing something to save myself and all I am able to actually do is laugh about it. " I'm so rude! " He suddenly exclaims. " Do you want a cigarette?" He asks. I try to shake my head, it wobbles. " You do?" He says, with unabashed glee. I try to form the word "no" but he misinterprets the mouth movement and pops a cigarette in my mouth. He lights it, I choke. " Woah, woah, slow now!" He says, and pulls it from my lips. It stuck a little on the bottom one. My fingertips are numb. " I suppose you are wondering how it is that I am alive?" He held the cigarette to the entrance of my mouth, I tried to reject it by closing my mouth but he goes on, seemingly oblivious. " Of course, the " too much blood loss to have survived" is a Spender family secret. We're a hard bunch to put down." Yeah fucking right. I try to close my eyes, another non compliant body part. " You know what I hate the most about my brother?" Brother? I didn't know he had one. " Is that he goes around with that ugly assed last name " Mulder" knowing that our father is named " Spender" Cigarette at mouth and this time I am in so much shock I inhale. Mulder? Mulders father. I must be hallucinating this. " You didn't know? Well, it figures that he didn't tell you." He frowns a little at me. " Time for your next dose. You'll probably sleep a long time this time, Dana. And when you wake up we can talk some more." Talk, ha! He sticks the needle in my arm and the injection hurts, it stings and burns and then.. Nothing but white cotton candy clouds and a warm breeze. *** *** She sleeps and I adore her. In mid slumber I re- dressed her, putting new clothes on her like she were a doll. She is a doll. My doll. I brush her hair and sit her up in a chair. She slumps in it, her form motionless. Heavily sedated. I'd managed to surprise her with the news of my brothers true parentage. And she'd even made an effort to smoke a cigarette with me! God, I had to admit, she was flawless. I put on her makeup with careful strokes. I liked the red lipstick that Maya had worn and I put a color similar to it on her lips, and painted her almost long, longer than most women in field work, well - kept fingernails. I talk to her in her sleep. She doesn't make any move to notice me, but I know that somewhere, within, she is listening. " Do you know how much I love you?" I ask her reflection. Her face remains placid, soothed, devoid of lines.. I touch her skin. She doesn't flinch. *** **** You've made it this far, keep going!! YAY!! You know you want to... *** *** Fifteen minutes I stare. " Fuck off!" Now what does " Fuck off" exactly mean? So she blew me off when I asked her to dinner last night, she sends me some obscure - as - fuck email about going on a jaunty, last minute and obviously secret vacation, and she's also apparently pissed off. So, the million -dollar round question is "why?" No one answers. A few moments later the phone rings and I jump. " Mulder?" I answer, hoping it's Scully, laughing, a joke maybe. I want to hear her " I so had you! You thought - " What did I think? No time for that, Skinner's on the other end. No, he hasn't heard of an intended vacation. No, he'd hasn't heard or seen Agent Scully since their time in California. Akward silence. Then - " Do you suspect fowl play, Agent Mulder?" Mention the "fuck off" message or not? Mention the "fuck off" message or not - Did Scully even say "Fuck?". Not ever to him, he'd remember. " I don't know what to think. I sent her an e-mail asking to let her family and work know where she is and that she is safe- " " And did you get a response?" " Yeah." " What was it?" Pencil on monitor, tap - tap - tap - on those two little words and their corresponding exclamation points. " She told me to fuck off." " In an e-mail message?" He sounded surprised. Not nearly as surprised as me, my friend, I feel like saying but instead wait for his response. " That doesn't seem like her." " I agree." I respond. " Fuck off!!" glares at me. I glare back. " Do you think she is in danger?" A good question. I close my eyes and look at the clock. A quarter past two in the afternoon. " I have this feeling something isn't right here. Intuition, I dunno. But I think we should find her. If she's safe, well -" " We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Come up to my office, we'll discuss a plan of action." " Yes sir" I hang up the phone. " Fuck off !! " mocks me as I leave the room. *** *** " Dana?" " Daaaaaannnnnnnnaaaaaaahhhhhh." " Ah, there, you are awake. Take a look at yourself!" I tell her, and she seems to look, but I can't be sure. " You look like a princess, a little doll. My doll, Dana." I put a cigarette in her mouth after lighting it first for her. It dangles in her lips, precariously anchored upon her lower full lip. " You know, If Fox Mulder really cared about you he'd be here by now. It's not that hard to find me. But, he always does manage to fuck everything up. You know, that is his nature." She trembles a little, I tell her to breathe in " Like you're sucking through a straw, Dana! Good job! Excellent work." Her face screws up as she exhales, she even coughs , but enough of the drug is still in her body to keep her immobile. I look into her eyes and they seem to look back at me. " Tell me, is it so bad that I'm in love with you? Is that really so bad?" *** *** Three. That's all I can think of, the number three. Sometimes seven, but mostly three. I can almost trace the shape with my fingers in my mind, but somthing stops me. If I think of anything but three, then I move from a linear scale and I lose all my logic. I'm a woman of logic, which, like everything, is amusing. Jeffrey talks to me but it's slurred, slowed down, incomprehensible. I'm facing a mirror and smoking, and I'm sure that part can't be actually real. I look ahead at myself in the glass and try to envision anything else. Mud. Marbles. May. Mulder. His head floats in my vision and at first I laugh. But then I try to catch his strangely bobbing head and whisper a few confessions. But his head only bobs, never getting close enough, always a heartbeat away. I reach for it, and it evades me, and I think it is laughing. Laughing, just like everything else in my head. *** *** " Mulder?" " Yep." I say irritably and glance over at the clock : three in the morning. I wasn't exactly asleep, every time I think of sleeping I think of Scully. It's been three days. Three days and no leads, no clues, not a drop of evidence aside from the e-mail. I'd been unable to think of anything to reply with other than " That's not fair!" " It's me, Langly. Man, are you all right?" " I'm fine. Did you find something?" " Well, I found out that the phone used to send those e-mails wasn't Scully's home or cell phone. Byers is tracing it as best he can right now. Why don't you come on over and by then we should have something." "I'm on my way." I return the phone to it's base. On my desk my laptop chimed. New mail. *** *** My favorite picture of her that I've taken is the one I sent my brother, so that he could see exactly what I have and he does not. Dana is in the chair, her body leaning into the back, her eyes glazed and half- open. The cigarette dangles from her lips seductively, red lips that match her nails and her red dress. A dolls dress; my doll's dress. It has capped sleeves and ends at the start of her knee. Her ankles are covered in red frilly dress socks, the kind little girls wear to church on Sunday; and her motionless feet hang suspended with black Mary Janes. She looks so innocent and dangerous; the perfect mix. My Dana. I download the photo from my digital camera onto my computer and attach it to an e-mail. Fox William Mulder. I wish I had more forethought and had installed a few cameras in his apartment, so that I could watch his face as he saw her as I see her now. I cross the room and take the cigarette from her lips, inhaling the sweet smoke that rested in her mouth only moments before. It's sticky with her saliva and I sense what it is to taste her. She tastes delicious. *** *** I have a dream, and this is how it goes. It begins in summer, at a seaside. The sun is high in a pure blue sky and I'm with Mulder. We sit alongside each other, burrowing our feet in the warm sand and smiling. The scenery shifts, to a dense forest. Sunlight creeps through the trees and still I am with Mulder. He looks at me, I reciprocate. In a heartbeat I move towards him, maybe it's raining, it feels like rain. I am wet as I press against him. Lightening flashes; a storm, a tempest of amazing proportion surrounds us. In a slow, sweet moment, we stare into each others eyes before his mouth is touching mine. Slick flesh slides against itself as I mold myself to him, he is warm and kissing me with abandon. These are not chaste kisses, they are searing with heat and intense. I'm dizzy, delirious, awed by the power of our contact. It seems to me that I have always wanted this, this oblivion in his arms and the surrender of his kiss. The pitch is rising, the storm grows in intensity as I open my lips to taste him more fully. He is like chocolate; all smooth and silken but also a hint of bitterness, dangerous. I exalt in his flavor and press myself ever closer. The rain stops and the land moves from forest to desert, but I don't care. His mouth sends shockwaves through my system, we claw at each others clothes. I am losing myself, unable to see as he places hot kisses along my neck that make me tilt my head back and moan. They brand me in their searing, possessive heat. I welcome their domestication. We lay and are suddenly naked, but no longer in the desert, it's become ice. A bitter wind blows and I see his face has changed, he is now Jeffrey. Jeffrey reaches to touch my breasts and I recoil. It's so cold. I'm freezing. Jeffrey eyes me with malicious glee and I close my eyes to pray... *** *** Just one more section! *** *** Five days. Five days have come and gone since I took her away from him. Five days and my glass vial was empty. With resignation I realized I needed to pay a visit to the delectable Maya. My cell phone rang and I answered it. ' Yes?" " Jeffrey?" " Father?" I rolled my eyes in disgust at his blatant intrusion. " I *am* on vacation you know - " " They are in the process of finding out your cell phone number." Cold fear crept up my back but I made my voice non- afflictive " What are you taking about?" " Mulder. I can't help you on this, so I'd suggest you end this game and let her go." " This is no game! This is for real, and I'm not doing anything." " When he finds you, I'm not sure he'll have as much self control as others have had with you. When it comes to her he can be very....volatile." " I don't give a goddamn what he thinks or how he feels! She's mine to love now." " This is ridiculous and asine Jeffrey. Let her go. Winning her love is as futile of an effort as your fabricated complexity; she will never love you just as you are inherently transparent. It's obvious to me what fuels your obsession with her." " And what might that be?" I asked disdainfully. " Jealousy." " I don't think you understand; I'm doing her a favor by taking her away from that pathetic excuse of a man- " " The only one pathetic here is you, Jeffrey." " I see." My eyes narrowed." Another case of the non- prodigal son and his many misadventures, right? Another fuck up to add to my list while * HE* gets all the glory. He is useless. DO you hear me?" " However pertinent you feel your motives to be, you won't succeed at this. It's only a matter of time before Mulder finds you and his partner." " Unrequited fucking love affairs! Damn Fox Mulder. He won't find me!" " You have twenty four hours before I intervene, and not on your behalf. I'd suggest the timely release of Agent Scully." The click and dial tone followed. I slammed down the phone in anger onto the counter and strode to the door, glancing at my watch. I had at least three hours to get some more Ketamine and Ace Promazine before Dana would wake up; and even then, she should be immobile. I have plans for tonight, after we find a new place. Tonight, I'll begin to convince her of my true worth, I'll teach her the weight and extent of my love. I walked to the frame of her door and admired her from there, watching her breathing even and slow. I wanted to see her like this forever. *** *** " Got it!" Langly exclaimed, and turned to me. I nearly jumped. My head had been on my hands, somewhat sleeping but not really. I had hardly closed my eyes in the one hundred and twenty hours that Scully had been missing. " We've traced the e-mails senders cell phone number successfully, Mulder. You got a trace on a name, Byers?" I sat to attention, adrenaline pumping again. I blinked and saw the picture of Scully, her legs dangling in a chair and a cigarette hanging from her mouth. An answering rush of anger to the image made me clench my fists. " No names. Nothing, a pre- paid card was used for the minutes, no info on the original purchaser of the phone. " He answered. " Just give me the number" I growled, and without hesitation punched the numbers into the phone. It rang. *** *** I woke up screaming, my body shaking. Tears lay wet and sticky on my face. I calmed my breathing, erasing the image of a reaching Jeffrey. My hands felt numb. The room was silent except... A phone was ringing. A phone was ringing and Jeffrey wasn't answering it. I concentrated on leaving the bed and attempted sitting up but it was impossible to move more than a few inches, my hands and arms and legs were laden with invisible weight. I forced myself to the floor, landing with a large " Fthump" that was painless. I drug myself across the smooth wooden surface of the floor, a grueling task with non compliant body parts. The phone rang closer, it wasn't stopping, and I tried to speed myself up. I reached the kitchen and was panting, I felt dizzy. I pulled on the rungs of the stool and somehow laboriously righted myself until I stood. It was within arms reach, and I paused to steady my vision, which was strange and hazy, and I prayed it would ring until I answered it. I refused to think of my course of action after it, my mouth failed to cooperate in verbal verification of my presence. With effort I reached it and somehow pressed "send". The face lit and I held it to my ear in the best way possible. I leaned against the counter and breathed heavily into it. " Hello? Hello? Scully - is that you?" Mulder. I'd have laughed if it were possible. Relief and joy swept through me and threatened to make me lose my grip. A powerful well of energy filled me, and I heard myself speaking. My mouth was numb - feeling and my speech was slurred. " Mulllller?" " Scully. Oh, Scully. Hang on the line. We're tracing the call, Scully. Can you tell me where you are, how you are? Are you hurt?" " Caaaaaaaaaaah. " I said, meaning that I couldn't tell him anything, that speech was impossible. " I understand. Just breathe, Scully. That's enough. I know you're alive then, and I'm gonna find you, soon, Scully. Soon." My legs felt like jelly but I made them walk to the door. I flipped the deadbolt and threw the chain before collapsing, my face pressed on the wooden planks. I breathed and clutched the phone. Mulder murmured things into my ears, they became a sweet monotony of sound. I couldn't fall asleep. Not now, not after everything. " We've got you Scully. We're on our way." Were the last words I remember hearing, before I blacked out again. *** *** The whistle in my throat dies a block from my hiding place, which is now surrounded by police cars, ambulances, and a crowd. I turn down the opposite street. No point getting close, the game is over, the show's done. So he's found her. As always, ripping his damsel in distress from the evil prince. I shake my head in self- pity and consuming hatred and light a cigarette. The smoke burns my throat but it doesn't matter. Nothing does now that I've lost her. Lost her, yet again, to him. I kick the ground beneath my feet and wish I hadn't gone to seen Maya and left her there. I should have not underestimated the cunning nature of my brother. He is the epitome of his name, he follows the ascribed path to greatness my father has him on and passes with flying colors. He's so fucking lucky it makes me sick. His face, his monotonous voice, his dull eyes and even more boring personality. " How can he be better than me?" I shout to a dumpster. A cat jumps from it and looks at me as though to wonder why I even asked. My father would point out the obvious reasons for my failure, based on the facts. The evidence is that I'm still not enough. Not enough of anything. I don't kill well enough, I certainly can't convince Dana Scully to love me enough, and I'm not intelligent enough to overthrow the reign of excellence that Fox Mulder possesses. I refuse to accept that can and will not be remedied. I'll just have to be more devoted next time, more planned. More precise. I ponder this even now, three days later, as I watch the grainy image of Dana welcoming her first visitor, my low- life, emotionally impotent, bastard of a sibling. I lit a cigarette and wished there had been time to install the audio, but I had enough of a difficult time finding a " repairman" to place the tiny, inch wide camera to the television suspended above her bed. She'd slept a full twenty four hours and awoke more lovely than I ever wanted to forget. I stroke myself absently as I voyeristically view thier little show. My brother stands at her side, looking down at her, his mouth moving. Probably filled with those empty sentiments that he could never follow through with, about keeping her safe and her value to him. She extends a hand to him, still with red fingernails, and he kisses her fingertips. How fucking vulgar. I hiss beneath my breath but watch the two of them, transfixed in their private encounter. He kneels at her side and lays his head on top of her hands, his shoulders shaking; he is weeping. She stokes his hair, her lips moving, inconsequential commentary for his unmanly sobbing, I think spitefully. How self- castigating can you be, brother dear? He looks at her, his face streaked with tears, I can see that from this angle. And she murmurs something, and he smiles a little. Then he looks at her, and with dread, I realize his intent. " So NOW's the time, of course! Steal the glory of my triumph, ride on my fucking coattails, you insipid little fuck!" Their faces come together, the kiss itself is blurred. It's brief, but not brief enough to be chaste. The camera view is perfect for the separation, but the scene is not one I'll re-watch. The movement made by his mouth is unmistakable. I can nearly say it with him, It's so expected. " I love you" The three most powerful words in the universe. Feeling defeated, and tired, I turn off the television. So now it'sharder, that's all, I tell myself as I finish one cigarette and began anew. Another chance would present itself, I reason. It always did. My new cell phone rang, constant fucking interruptions. I answer it with a snap in my wrist. It smells like new electronics. " Yes." I say harshly, annoyed with the caller, so predictable as to WHO is calling. " Jeffrey." " I'm not surprised. What do you want? To gloat in your golden boys success?" I spit, my voice with determined venom. "You have only yourself to blame for your ineptitude. What * did* you expect? " " I expected what I deserve." " Dana Scully?" He laughs, a full laugh, as though sincerely humored. I want to shoot him in the fucking head and leave him to die. I want to take the smoking cigarette from his cooling lips and put it out in his eye. I've had it with this bastard. " I had the opportunity-" I began. " You had no *opportunity*. You had five days. If it had been *anyone* but you, my son, *anyone* would have taken her out of the country and never been seen again, if it was so important. If it was so important that you would risk discovery, risk your life and your job, give up the power I've given you for something you think is love, you would have done a more convincing, and certainly more successful job of it. Don't blame me for your mistakes. You made them alone, and you alone are to blame for them." " I will * succeed next time. He's no better, you know. He's a fucking loser with her. He told her he loved her. Did you know that? He kissed her in that hospital room" I yell, and glance at my watch, " Fifteen motherfucking minutes ago. Did you know that? Did you." " I'm glad." He answers. I hear him light a cigarette. Hands shaking, on the verge of tears, I pull one from my own pack and light it. " I'm not." I say, and inhale. " He deserves her, Jeffrey. But I'll tell you something, and this is the truth. It will be his own undoing. It's only a matter of time, now." " What do you mean?" I ask conspiratorially. I smoke furiously as anticipation rolls down my spine. " To make this open declaration of his affection for her is dangerous. I thought him bright enough to know that. But, " He muses. My hands are still trembling" There will come a day when she'll be used against him. Perhaps that time is now. " " Tell me! Stop going around the bend and tell me." " She is in awe of power, Jeffrey, I can give her power. " " What do you mean? What power? How can you give it to her.." " I know a great deal about Agent Scully. I know about her past, and I control her future, so..." He's enjoying this, and for once, I am too. I feel exhausted suddenly, as though I can perceive what is going to happen. " I think it's time I rewarded you, Jeffrey. I may prefer Mulder to you, of course" I sucked in my breath at the bastards name. " But, you have been loyal to me, and I acknowledge that. So, I have an assignment for you. A very special assignment, perfect for you. " I snub out my cigarette and grab another. My nerves are on edge and I don't know what to say. " I'm listening" I manage, but with the shake of ill - concealed excitement. " We need to plan something elaborate, something....incredible. Something to earn our lady's trust. And then, well, the rest you can leave to me." I breathe in smoke and exhale, close my eyes and feel my own power. So, finally, this is the time. Time to prove what it is that I was created to prove; I am superior to my brother in every aspect! And my father is now ready to *award* that superiority. I inhale again and hold it, pondering the possibilities, so endless - but at the end lies the truth. And that truth is that Dana Scully will be mine, and my brother will be destroyed. " Tell me the details." I answer, fully intent on the hand of eminent destruction being my own. THE END *** *** What kind of ending *was* that? Tell me about it! phriendly11@yahoo.com Thanks for reading!