From: Muzinke@aol.com Date: Sat, 4 Nov 2000 12:19:02 EST Subject: xfc: Threnody 13: Thickening (1/1) Source: xfc TITLE: Threnody 13: Thickening AUTHOR: Tarin Z. Kesumin E-MAIL: Muzinke@aol.com CATEGORY: WIP, post-ep KEYWORDS: X-file, implied MSR, Angst SUMMARY: The plot thickens... SPOILERS: So small for 'Triangle', you won't even know it's there. RATING: PG for language. DISCLAIMER: Scully, Skinner, Kimberly and the Gunmen are not mine. But the new guy, he's all me. AUTHOR'S NOTES: The title of this series, 'threnody', means 'lament' or 'mournful chant'. This is the thirteenth chapter in an ongoing series, and at this point, you should go back and read the previous chapters before diving into this one. Or, given how long it's been between posts, you may need a quick refresher. You can find previous installments at the following website: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Orion/5345/TheHole.html Thanks go out to the beta with the most...a. Okay, well, you get the idea. Thanks, Suzanne, for hanging in there with me. * * * J. Edgar Hoover Building Office of AD Skinner July 2, 2000 7:10pm Shutting his eyes against the grayscale images before him, Skinner pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself before speaking. While introducing Agent Garnet to his quite formidable left hook would certainly make him feel better, Skinner knew it was out of the question. The man could hardly give him the answers he wanted if he were unconscious. "Agent Garnet, what are your thoughts?" Raising his eye from their perusal of the papers before him, Garnet was unable to ignore the menace in the other man's eye, nor the twitch of his fist where it rested on the table. "Sir, I have no reason to believe that the information these men have provided is unreliable. Given what I've already been able to learn over the past 12 hours, I believe their suppositions to be well- founded." Skinner grunted softly under his breath before turning his gaze to the others in the room. "And just how did you and Agent Scully come across this information?" "One could argue that it was no more than dumb luck, sir." Byers ignored the countenances of his colleagues, both obviously aghast at the implication that their kung-fu had been a simple matter of fate. "Scully had asked for us to continue monitoring whatever satellite data we could hack our way into, looking for the same wave form patterns and transmissions errors the original craft produced. We had no way of knowing where, when, or if we would find anything at all." Frohike strained his neck upwards, stepping up to defend their achievement in the wake of Byers's affront. "It's been like looking for a needle in a haystack, while blindfolded *and* with both hands tied behind our backs." "But you did find something," Skinner said, flapping several sheaves of paper in the Gunmen's direction, their lines of data obscured by the ripples and folds created by his tightly clenched fist. "Satellite data we recovered seems to contain the errors and wave forms we had been looking for. Once we were able to pinpoint the satellite's specific location at the time of transmission, and the location from which the readings were taken, we called Agent Scully." "It just couldn't have been a coincidence, man" Langley chimed in. "Coastal Oregon." Skinner shook his head, his neck creaking in protest. "Scully believes he may have been returned, doesn't she?" The three said nothing, the sound of nervously shuffling feet and aimlessly shifting gazes answering for them. Garnet, anticipating the outburst to come, said with rueful reluctance, "It would appear so, sir, seeing as one Dana Katherine Scully purchased a one-way ticket from Dulles to Portland late this morning. Chances are, she's already in Bellefleur." Garnet could tell by the fiery look in his superior's eyes that he was in for it. Moments later, the furious boom of Skinner's voice filled the room. "God-DAMMNIT! How could you have let her go out there alone!! You were assigned to keep an eye on her, Garnet!" "With all due respect, sir, I thought my assignment was to assist Agent Scully with her continuing investigation into Agent Mulder's disappearance, not to be her baby- sitter." The bald crown of Skinner's head became an impossible share of red as he fought to contain his steadily rising panic. "You're her partner, Agent; a position which entails first and foremost watching her back, especially when her ability to carry out her duties as a federal agent have been compromised!" "I hadn't been apprised of any event or circumstances that have limited Agent Scully's ability to carry out those duties to their fullest extent," Garnet said, eyes blazing with indignation. Unfazed by his subordinate's display, Skinner shot back, "She's lost her partner, for God's sakes! Surely you can understand how the receipt of this" he continued, throwing the satellite data to the tabletop with a switch of his wrist, "information might have caused her to act... impulsively." "Perhaps if I had known in advance that Agent Scully was making use of..." Garnet gave a dismissing glance at the other three men in the room, "unsanctioned sources, I might have been able to keep a closer eye on her." Frohike hunkered forward, eyes flashing an angry warning, "Hey man, don't you get it yet? She. Doesn't. Trust. You. And with an attitude like that, I'm beginning to understand why." "And just what the hell do you mean by that?!?" "I think," Skinner broke in, "that you're both missing the point. Our first order of business is to get myself and Agent Garnet on the first available flight to Portland, Oregon. I don't want Scully out there alone any longer than she has to be." "You're going to take *him*?" Frohike hissed in disbelief. Skinner sighed as he began collecting his suit jacket and briefcase. "Agent Garnet is Scully's partner, an agent assigned to this case, and I have no intention of leaving him behind." Skinner paused to regard the man, blinking slowly, before uttering with quiet conviction, "I trust him." Frohike paused, for the first time since his tirade began taking a moment to consider the stranger before him. Good suit, probably Brooks Brothers. Hair tamed with enough gel to lend a dampened sheen. Poster-boy for the FBI recruitment brochure. And Skinner was asking him to trust this guy with the lives of two of his closest, and most often endangered, friends. Before he could give further voice to his apprehension, however, Byers put an end to the verbal tug-of-war. "We'll get you both on a flight within the next two hours. What will you need for us to do here?" His gratefulness sparked in his eyes as Skinner replied, "Verify that this data is the real thing. I want something definitive to tell Scully when we catch up with her." "We'll get right on it," Langley stated before striding to the office door, Byers and Frohike following close behind. Frohike threw a final glance in Garnet's direction, telegraphing plainly his intended message of warning, before following the other two Gunmen out the door and shutting it softly behind him. Garnet pulled his attention back to his superior, a question poised on his lips. Skinner, however, never gave him the chance to give it voice. Moving to the door, Skinner gestured for Garnet to follow. "No questions, Agent. We'll have the chance to consult en route. Right now, I want you to go down to Reacquisitions and sign out a car." The dull hiss of the office door sliding against carpet nap served to deter any further argument from Garnet. "I'll meet you there in ten minutes." "Yes, sir." Garnet stepped past him, giving Kimberly nothing more than a weak flop of his hand on his way out. Skinner's eyes tracked the man, following the hazy shadow of his figure against the blinds of the office's hall-side windows. Skinner exhaled slowly, eyes sliding shut as he allowed the fatigue he had been keeping at bay sweep over him. From her desk, Kimberly cast a furtive eye upwards, studying the tense lines of her boss's face as they deepened, pulling at his skin and slowly contorting his brow. "Sir?" she queried softly, uncertain of how to deal with the man, so changed from the man he was two months ago. When a minute had passed and still he had said nothing, she returned her focus to her work. "Dammnit," he finally muttered sharply, turning on his heel to cast a similarly edged look at the puffy countenance of William Jefferson Clinton grinning from the far office wall. His frustration was not lost on his silent companion, who again raised her eyes to study the imposing form of the AD. This time, however, she found that her regard had not gone unnoticed. "Kim, I'll be out of the office tomorrow, perhaps longer. Reschedule the budget meeting for later this month, and take any messages as they come." "Of course, sir. And, the reason I should give for the cancellation?" "A personal emergency." * * * The uneven rumble of the engine pushing them beyond the gloom of the parking garage and into the glaring summer sunlight, Frohike finally felt the tightness in his chest begin to ease. Hazarding cautious glances away from the road ahead, he looked to Byers and Langley with a grin. "Think they'll buy it?" Langley hoisted himself to perch between the VW van's vinyl front seats, arms embracing the headrests. "They damn well should have. An excellent debut, my friends." "Yeah, sure. We'll be asked to do a prime-time TV spot before you know it." * * * End. * * *