From: "Nancy Mack" Date: Wed, 9 Jun 2004 17:23:23 -0500 Subject: Unwelcome Reverie by NJ Mack Source: direct Unwelcome Reverie by N.J. Mack Feedback: nmack@tulsacoxmail.com Category: XHA Rating: R violent images and innuendo Spoilers: Season 6 Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST Disclaimer: Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox own the X-Files, Mulder and Scully. Summary: Political and personal tensions flare as Mulder and Scully travel to California to assist the LAPD in the death investigation of a US Senator's daughter. Author's Notes: I've been working on this story, off and on, for years. I love these characters and I hope it shows. Any and all feedback is welcome. WEDNESDAY - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA "Dressing room lighting always sucks..." she thought to herself, "but this is ridiculous." Special Agent Dana Scully wasn't well-to-do, but having no one to support but herself allowed her to spend relatively freely, at least when it came to her wardrobe. She generally shopped at nicer department stores and boutiques. "It could be worse," she thought, "At least there ARE dressing rooms." She looked at herself in the distorted mirror, shocked at her new look. "Yeah... the very least. How the hell did I get here?" It was a far cry from the suits she wore to work, each one meticulously chosen to cover her in a way that commanded professional respect while reminding those that looked at her that she was a woman, although, she often wondered if anyone ever noticed. Continuing to gaze at her reflection, she sighed... THIS was not a suit. She had never been to a store like this - or been on such an assignment. FRIDAY MORNING - FIVE DAYS EARLIER - FBI HEADQUARTERS Mulder sat in the dimly lit basement office and stared at the paperwork covering his desk. He and Scully had been investigating cases nonstop for the past two-weeks. Fox Mulder was a man of action. Although he considered the X files occupying the large filing cabinets in the corner precious, he hated putting them together. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Many people would covet his ability to remember things, but the years had filled his eyes with so many bizarre images, that his brain couldn't stop them from running together. He knew he needed these case files completed. He sighed and started digging when the phone rang. . . "Mulder? It's Pete." "Pete?" "Quantico's most beautiful hook shot, sound familiar?" "Pete Allen? You must be drunk." "Because I'm calling?" "No, to think your hook shot's that memorable." Mulder said, laughing, "How the hell are you?" "I'm excellent. How long's it been? Eight years?" "Probably, but it seems like yesterday I was carrying you through the academy. You still in California?" "I'm tan and happy, brother. I think I might have an excuse for you to come out." "Let me guess. You've been practicing your jump shot and you're ready for a rematch?" "Still a smart-ass, I see, but no. Could be some legitimate work. If you'll bear with me a minute, I'll try to explain." "What's up?" "I play hoop every week with a bunch of bureau and LAPD guys." "I bet that's a hell of a rivalry." "Oh yeah. Pretty heated games, but its fun stuff. Despite the smack that piles up, we're all pretty good friends. Anyway, there's a detective that was venting about a series of murders out here. I don't know much about the case, just that they can't determine the cause of death." "So why are they murder cases?" "Exactly what I said, but he was pretty quiet about it. He was interested in some "alternative methods" of forensic investigation, if you will. Don't have any major details, but the nature of them sound like something you'd be familiar with, so I recommended that he check out the X files. He said he'd run it by his superiors and, hopefully, contact your office. This was a couple days ago, but I'm just now catching up to you. Do what you want; I just wanted to give you a heads up about it." "Sounds like more fun than sorting through this paperwork on my desk. Well, I appreciate the business. Not sure what I can do, but I'll talk to my A.D. Great talking to you, Pete." Mulder hung up the receiver and sat back in his chair. It had been a long time since he had considered his position with the FBI a job. It was merely a means to chase his interests. His work on the Xfiles had changed him. She had changed him. The Truth, as he knew it, had changed. He twirled a #2 pencil in his fingers and propped his feet upon his desk. He felt different ... less driven ... more aware of the things beyond the walls of his basement office. Talking to Pete was a stark reminder of how different he was from that eager agent at Quantico. When he first started in the bureau he played basketball every week. It required his undivided attention, and allowed him to sweat out his tension and fears. He could unleash his aggression and be in complete control. He smiled remembering that old self. "Why are my shoulders so tense?" He thought as he squirmed in his seat. He and Scully had been working tirelessly. He hadn't been near the gym in months, and he was beginning to feel the stress that usually drove him. "California... long way from this office." He looked at his watch. "Where's Scully?" Strange thoughts swirled in his head as he realized how badly he wanted to see her. She was always a welcome sight in the morning, but it was usually because he couldn't wait to share a new case or theory with her. Things were off. "Wonder what she's wearing today?" He thought. He began going through her wardrobe in his head when she walked through the door. "Hey, Mulder." She said without looking up from the file she was carrying. "The toxicology report on that park fatality was negative. I can't figure it out..." Her entrance startled him, "Uh... morning." She looked up from her file, "Mulder, what is it?" "What is what?" he grinned nervously. "You look weird. Is everything OK?" "What would be wrong? I was just waiting for you to get here" "OK, Mulder, have it your way," she said, not feeling like sparring with him. "It looks like we're filing today." He gathered himself, jumped to his feet, and grabbed her arm. "No. I've got something for us. I'll explain on the way to Skinner's office." "...but, Mulder, look at all this paperwork..." She objected. "It'll be here when we get back. Come on." FRIDAY - TEN MINUTES LATER - OFFICE OF ASSISTANT DIRECTOR WALTER SKINNER "You ARE going... absolutely," said Skinner Mulder and Scully were startled at his insistence. "You're OK with this?" "Look Mulder, not only has the LAPD already called, but I just got off the phone with the Deputy Director. Did you hear about the death of Senator John Andrews' daughter?" "Of course," Scully replied, her eyes suspect. "Well, she's part of this case. The Senator is satisfied with the LAPD handling the investigation, but the President has offered the full cooperation of the FBI. "Why send us, then?" Mulder inquired, knowing that they weren't the ones called in a political situation. "Because, the LAPD specifically requested the two of you. They want your assistance in determining the cause of death. They thought your extensive work with the unexplained might help with this case." "So, they're certain that she was murdered?" "Look Mulder, it appears that way. Why don't you get going and find out for sure. The LAPD has jurisdiction, you will be there as consultants only, so don't overstep your bounds." "Oh, we wouldn't dream of it, sir." Mulder pissed. Skinner shot him a warning look, "Try to control him, Scully. Keep me informed. They're expecting you on Monday." The two agents glanced at each other and nodded their obedience. Both thought to themselves that he would be pleased to have them out of his hair for a few days. They stood and proceeded towards the door. "Agents, take care of yourselves." He watched as they left his office. Mulder guided Scully through the doorway by the small of her back like he had done a thousand times before. Skinner marveled at their partnership. It was amazing how two completely opposite, but equally brilliant agents had come to depend on one another. He had lost count of all of the times that each one had risked career and life for the other. Anyone with a keen eye could see their closeness, but Skinner had spent enough time with them to envy it. They loved each other. MONDAY MORNING - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA It wasn't their first consulting job together, but it was always unsettling not knowing what roles they would have to play. Hopefully, it would be worth the trip. The flight was a long one, but they flew so often that the routine was second nature: carry-ons, security, terminals, rental cars, etc. Mulder and Scully went through the motions, each comfortably silent and thankful that they didn't have to talk small. At the LAPD headquarters, they were greeted by Homicide Detective Anthony Avila, "Agents Mulder and Scully?" he asked extending his hand. "Thanks for coming down so quickly. Agent Mulder, after Pete mentioned you, I did some reading on the X files. I figured that you were a definite to show, but," he turned to Scully as one side of his lip curled upward, "I'm very pleased that Agent Scully came along." Scully curiously raised an eyebrow at Detective Avila as he went on, "Because of your medical expertise, of course. We certainly have qualified examiners here, but I assume that none of them have seen what you have." "Assume away, Detective, but I'm not sure what you mean." She challenged him. "I mean out-of -the-ordinary stuff. That's what you do, right? Explain unexplained deaths?" She swallowed hard to relax the tension in her throat before answering. She rarely thought twice about her male counterparts when she was working, but she was certain that a strange vibe was emitting from this man... "I solve cases with verifiable scientific evidence." She said in her cold, clinical tone. "Well, I'm very anxious to see you work," he flirted. Scully grinned uncomfortably and turned to Mulder realizing that she had forgotten that he was standing there. "I want to examine the latest victim before we do anything else." "You're the doctor," he said. She turned back to Avila. "Do you often consult with the FBI?" Avila grinned, "I know we aren't supposed to like each other, but between the media, movie stars, politics, and crime in this city, we're forced to cooperate. We've learned to respect one another. Why do you ask?" "There are hundreds of unsolved murder cases, what's different about this one? Are you certain that they're serial?" "Not really. We've got four bodies: All young people that disappeared from local night clubs. The real bitch is we can't determine a cause of death for any of them. We found all the bodies within a five day period so it doesn't seem real calculated. When a street junkie or a working girl disappears, people could care less, but when the victim is a Senator's daughter, the investigation gets kicked in the pants. That's why my superiors allowed me to call the bureau. Honestly, they question the nature of your work, but we want to bring this guy down before he kills again." "So you already know the killer is a male?" Mulder asked, already knowing the answer. "No, I'm speaking generally. Call me old fashioned, but I've always associated crime with men first. I still like to think that women are less tainted than men. You know... keepers of everything that's good type-of-thing." Avila mused matter-of-factly as he flashed a smile at Scully. "That must really help you solve your cases," Mulder sarcastically replied. "Well, I guess it could be an alien, right Agent Scully?" Avila quipped, unaffected by Mulder. Scully gave him a perturbed look and motioned with her hand, "After you Detective." As they followed Avila to the morgue, Mulder replayed the little scene that had just occurred. He didn't like having his life's work insulted and he didn't like Avila's interaction with Scully. "I thought Californians were formally trained in political correctness," he thought to himself, "What an ass." After so many years together, he had developed a false sense of ownership about her... his partner, his counterpart, his Scully. He couldn't blame the detective. Scully was provocatively interesting and engaging... a walking contradiction with her stringent professionalism and femininity. She was a woman in a man's world... so tiny and porcelain, her eyes piercing and serious. How could she be so intelligent and fearless, so clinical and unemotional? Mulder understood the interest; he just didn't know how to handle it. "Well, this is off to a great start." She thought to herself as she felt Mulder's eyes on her back. "Ugh - I hate when this happens." Her mind trailed off to when she enjoyed flirting with boys. "Am I getting old?" she thought. "Here we are," said Avila as he opened the door to the morgue and turned his attention to the staff inside. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully from the FBI. She is a medical doctor and needs to examine the body of Madison Andrews. Give her anything she needs." He held the door for them and disappeared down the hallway. "Can I come to the wedding?" Mulder asked her, perturbed. "I don't know what you mean." She said trying to brush him off. "What's it like having that kind of power over a man, Scully?" "You tell me." She trumped him. "Ok." Mulder relented. "I'm going to consult with the case profiler. I'll meet you later at the hotel." : Scully listened as the coroner went over the facts. The toxicology reports turned up nothing. None of the victims had visible injuries. No cuts or scrapes, no gunshot wounds or bruises. They were just lifeless. "Detective Avila insisted that you autopsy this one yourself." Scully nodded. She prepped herself and stood next to the body. She was a professional, someone accustomed to death and the presence of the dead. Working on young people, however, was never easy for her. She clicked on her recorder and uncovered the body. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully beginning the autopsy of Madison Andrews. Victim is a white female, 21 years old, 66 inches long, and 122 pounds." She sighed as she thought the victim must have been healthy and beautiful. A cursory look revealed no abrasions, cuts, or bruises. Scully continued to record herself as she went deeper into investigation. She had the body turned over and she noticed what looked like a tattoo on the right center of the victims back. She took a photo. "Did anyone follow up on this tattoo?" She asked the coroner assisting her. "I've been waiting on you, so this is the first time I'm seeing it. Wait a minute." She opened the files and shuffled for some photos, "Two of the other bodies have tattoos. Victim #1 has an entire leg sleeved, and victim #3 has two. They looked so different that I didn't make a connection, but..." she examined the pictures some more. "Yes." She handed a photo to Scully. "Victim #3 has a similar one. The symbols are different, but the shape's exactly the same. Do you recognize them?" "No, but doesn't the placement of them seem odd to you?" "I guess so." "Do me a favor, check Victim #1's leg again. There could be a small tattoo like these hiding in there somewhere. Are you certain that victim #2 has no tattoos?" "Yes." "Get her out and check her skull. Then take this photo to Detective Avila and have him check out the symbols. I'll finish the autopsy on my own. " "You got it." Scully felt uncharacteristically tired. She tried to dismiss it as a combination of travel and strange surroundings; although she knew it was something more. She switched off her tape recorder and continued the autopsy in sorrowful silence. : Mulder poured over the evidence in the manila folder. He meticulously catalogued the information in his memory. All four victims were female, between the ages of 20 and 30, and had disappeared from night clubs. Which, of itself, wasn't uncommon, but the clubs in question were upscale places frequented by prominent businessmen, movie stars, and, until a few days ago, Senator's daughters. "OK, who are you?" Mulder thought as he closed his eyes. Reading the mind of a killer was neither easy nor something he'd ever grown comfortable doing. He just had a talent for it. There was little to go on. : Scully emerged from the lab to find that the sun had disappeared for the night. She headed back to the hotel and went straight to Mulder's room. "There you are," he greeted her, hardly looking up from the paper work spread across his bed. "What'dya got?" "Nothing concerning the cause of death. The victims do have similar tattoos, each one oddly placed..." she said as she handed him two pictures of Madison's, "Do you recognize them?" Mulder gazed at the pictures. "Hmm. Why would she put it there?" "Maybe SHE didn't put it there." She offered. "Maybe. The letters looks like greek, but I can't think of any significance to that shape. Did you show the detective?" "He's checking it out," Scully rolled her head to loosen her neck as she plopped down on the edge of the bed. "He should have something for us tomorrow," she said, yawning. She lay down on her side and propped herself up on her elbow. "What did you find?" "I found nothing." He said matter-of-factly. "Nothing?" "By nothing, I mean there is no profile. The killer doesn't seem like a killer. None of the bodies show any signs of abuse or damage. Apparently none of the victims left the clubs unwillingly. Unless the symbolism of those tattoos pans out...," he trailed off in thought. Scully mulled over the case in her head. She saw a small picture of Madison lying under some papers. She picked it up and stared at it. "She was such a beautiful girl, Mulder... intelligent, vibrant. She had her whole life in front of her." "At least she was living it to the fullest before she died." Mulder observed. "Yeah," Scully softly said as she laid her head down and closed her eyes, "Life has a way of passing us by...." She drifted off to sleep. Mulder studied until his eyes were heavy. He gathered up the paperwork and placed it in the file. He laid back and thought hard about the case. He looked over at Scully and admired her face. There was no question wrinkling her brow, no tear tickling her eyes, no injustice to be fought. She was just peaceful. He brushed some hair from her cheek before sleep overcame him. Regardless of truths uncovered, Mulder's dreams were always haunted. Full of every hateful fate that could befall her, and ever desire he never exercised while awake, his dreams were exhausting. She was always being taken from him, always in pain, always angry with him, always leaving him, always being harmed. It would never stop. "Scully?!" He cried as he chased the darkness. "Where are you?" He stepped in the dark alley. Nothing but his own breath could be seen as he looked both directions. A scream echoed through the dark chasm and Mulder exploded after it. He could hear his own heartbeat as he pushed his body to its limit. Every muscle was fully engaged as he sprinted after the evil, but it felt as if he wasn't moving at all. "Scully!" He ran until his side stitched and his hands shook. Can't stop, don't stop, must find her. "Scully!" Suddenly, a hand grabbed him from behind, "Mulder!" He instantly sat up and opened his eyes to see Scully standing over him with messy hair, still in her suit. "Mulder, are you alright?" He stared blankly at her, still half asleep. "Mulder?" He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close, and sighed with relief. She let him hold her in silence as she wondered what had caused this one. "Mulder, I'm fine." She pulled back and looked down at him. "It was just a dream." "I'm sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed for grabbing her. "That one was bad." She observed, sympathetically as she brushed his hair out of his face. "I'm fine," he stood up, "I think I'll take a shower." "You sure?" "Yeah, I'll see you in the morning." "Ok. Good night, Mulder." She felt for him as she walked to her room, and that same sad feeling she had earlier in the morgue fell over her again. She, too, had had many nightmares about life. "So many things left unsaid." She thought to herself. TUESDAY - HOME OF SENATOR JOHN ANDREWS Mulder and Scully were escorted to the great room of the Senator's home by the, obviously stepped-up, security staff where Senator and Mrs. Andrews were waiting for them. Scully compassionately extended her hand to Mrs. Andrews, "Thank you for meeting us. I know this is a difficult time. I'm Agent Scully and this is my partner Agent Mulder." "Thank you, Agent Scully. I already told the police everything I know. Maddi was living on her own for the first time this summer and was very social, but she still called me at least every other day. Everyone loved her....," Mrs. Andrews put her head down as she went on, "The hardest thing is not knowing what was done to her." The Senator put his arms around his wife and sat her down on the couch. "I'm sorry; it has been a difficult week for us. I told the police that we will do anything to assist them. "I understand, and that is why we're here. We are trying to examine all avenues to determine that, Mrs. Andrews. Just a few minutes, please." Mrs. Andrews regained her composure and sat up straight. "Of course." Mulder started, "Were you aware that your daughter was frequenting night clubs?" Mrs. Andrews frowned, "Yes. I can't say that I approved, but I understand that she was young and just experiencing freedom for the first time." "Did she have any new friends that you, maybe, didn't approve of?" "No, not at all. At least, no one that she brought home." Scully was interested in science "Do you have any knowledge of her using drugs?" "Of course not!" The Senator said, angrily. "I'm sorry, sir, but given the situation, she could have been using recreational drugs. That could be why she disappeared." Scully replied. "Was Allison on any medication?" "Yes, she took a couple of prescriptions for her narcolepsy." answered Mrs. Andrews. "OK," Scully thought to herself. "One more thing: do you know where Allison got her tattoo?" "She doesn't have a tattoo." "Oh, I'm sorry, I personally examined her body and she has one on her back. Maybe she hid it from you." Mrs. Andrews got very excited, "No, she HATED them. She was always commenting on what a stupid fad they were and she thought that her friends that had them would regret it when they were older. She was at a fundraiser last week in a backless dress. She didn't have one then!" "Ok, Mrs. Andrews. Apparently we have some more investigating to do. This is exactly why we're here, to cover all the avenues." Mulder spoke up to reassure them, "Agent Scully is one of the best forensic scientists in the FBI and she will get to the bottom of this. I just have one more question." "Yes?" "How long has Allison suffered with narcolepsy?" "Since she was in junior high. She had trouble focusing in class so we had her tested. Once they put her on medication, it was easily controlled and didn't affect her. Why?" "I'm not sure yet, just for the record. We really appreciate your time and will get back to you as soon as we can." The Senator stood to see them out. "Thank you, Agents. You find my little girl's killer and I won't forget it." : Mulder and Scully headed back to the station. He stared over the steering wheel, case files rolling quickly through his head. "What are you thinking, Mulder?" He picked up the case file between them and handed it to her, "Look at the medical records of the other victims." She took the folder and shuffled through its contents. "They've all been treated for narcolepsy." "Yeah. Tell me about it." "It's a disorder marked by sudden and uncontrollable drowsiness and attacks of sleep at unexpected and irregular intervals. Symptoms usually appear in adolescence but the majority of cases can be controlled by medication." "What are some of the more severe affects?" "Narcolepsy is usually accompanied by cataplexy, a loss of muscle control that causes the person to collapse, often following a sudden surge or emotion. A smaller percentage of narcoleptics experience sleep paralysis, which isn't physically harmful, but can induce an intense feeling of fear." "So a narcoleptic could lose all movement during an episode?" "Yes." Mulder thoughtfully listened, "That makes sense." "What?" "He can use that to project his dreams onto them without a fight and in turn, their body gives out." "He who?" Scully asked, already knowing where he was going. "The killer." "Mulder, you can't be serious." "If all the victims had narcolepsy, then he could have killed them without a fight." "Kill them how, Mulder?! There is no evidence of murder." "Maybe he played on their fears. You said that sleep paralysis can induce intense fear." "What are you saying that the victims were actually scared to death?" "Not exactly, but how many cases have you heard of where a person dreams their own death and the fear causes a cardiac arrest." "Mulder, in most of those cases the anxiety caused by the dream is merely a catalyst for a preexisting heart condition. Besides, what you're suggesting isn't even in the same ballpark." "What are dreams but a means for our brains to subconsciously work out the anxieties that we are unable to deal with in a conscience state? " "According to some theory, but what you're suggesting can't be extrapolated from that." "Humor me for a minute, Scully: Scientists agree that dreaming is part of the normal sleep cycle, right?" "Yes." "But YOU say that the reasons we dream are not fully known?" "Well, researchers DO know a great deal about the neurobiology of the brain during dreams, but there are many theories about why we dream." "Like?" "Like dreaming is a means by which we rid ourselves of or unlearn unnecessary and wrong information. Others think it is merely a means of expressing and relieving emotions from our waking state." "Is that it?" "No. There are certain doctors that postulate that if an individual doesn't dream, his neocortex could become overloaded with information and develop false thoughts which compromise the true and orderly storage of the memory." "Does that have anything to do with individuals that murder their spouses in their sleep and wakeup with no recollection of it?" "Well, I believe that most of those cases are inconclusive, however some of the killers have been diagnosed with a type of REM disorder." "Right. They never achieve the REM stage of sleep, which is the precise time when we dream." "Sort of. It is the time when most vivid dreams occur. So what's your point?" "What if our killer has this disorder? He's unable to release the anxieties of everyday life through his dreams. He could suffer from hallucinations, obsessions, and even mental disorders." "Mulder, you're unbelievable." "Scully, I know you've had nightmares about your abduction, dreamt about all of the ugly things we've seen over the years, fantasized about people." "Since when do you know so much about my fantasies, Mulder?" "I'm serious, Scully, It's just human nature. Think of all the times you've woken me up from a nightmare." She remembered the panicked look on his face when she had woken him the night before. He read her mind and continued, "Imagine if we didn't have that form of release." "Ok. I understand what you're saying. It makes sense that a person who didn't dream could have an unhealthy disposition. So what?" "What if someone who is unable to dream, found a way to deal with it? What if he found a way to have those dreams through a person who not only had no problem sleeping, but slept more than necessary?" "Like someone with narcolepsy?" "Yes. If he could control the necessary portions of his victims' brains, he could manipulate, or even change their fears to the point of torture for the victim..." "Mulder, assuming you're even onto something, how would he know that a person he met in a bar had narcolepsy?" "I don't know. Maybe he just evolved to seek them out. You know how a blind person has a heightened sense of hearing or touch?" "That's different. Those are physical senses that everyone has. You're talking about someone being able to 'sense' someone else's medical condition." "Well, I haven't worked out all the details yet, but I think I'm on the right track." "Let's touch base with Avila, see what he has to say about the tattoos, then, maybe, we'll talk about it." : "The tattoos are all Greek symbols. I had them translated and respectively they spell the words Morpheus, Phobetor, Phantasus, and Oniros. " "How's you Greek mythology these days, Scully?" Mulder asked, half-kidding. She took a deep breath. "They're all relatives of Hypnos, the Greek god of sleep and dreams." She replied as if it were common knowledge. "Each one had the ability to manipulate dreams in one form or another." Both men stared at her in disbelief. A proud grin formed on Scully's face. "No one likes a smart ass, Scully" Mulder said. "That semester of mythological literature paid off after all." She said playfully. "Besides, you should be thrilled to hear this. When's the 'I told you so speech'?" "What do you mean?" Avila questioned her. "Dream manipulation," Mulder began, "Just like these mythological characters, our killer is a dream manipulator." "Note the word, mythology, Agent Mulder. That means they're just stories." "Most myths have their roots in a real person or event, Detective. But because of the oral traditions of the cultures of their origin, over the years they became distorted. That doesn't make them any less valid, however. In fact, the taller tales appear so because they are trying to convey a sense of urgency." "About what?" "About whatever they feared: Evil spirits, angry gods, bad weather." Avila was impressed by Mulder's knowledge, but he wasn't about to follow him on it without proof. "Exactly what are we talking about Agent Mulder?" Mulder went over his theory with Detective Avila. His expression flickered between disbelief and amusement as he listened. He blinked at Mulder before turning to Scully. "Surely YOU don't believe this crap, Agent Scully." "YOU requested US, Detective. This is what you get." Mulder shot back, liking the 'us against you' battle that was starting. Avila's pulse shot up as Mulder pressed his buttons. Scully, sensing the tension, reacted quickly. "I understand that this avenue of investigation can be a bit overwhelming, Detective, but this crap is the only thing we have to go on. Although my partner's theory is not fully grounded in reality," she glanced at Mulder impatiently, "the science of the illness and problems that can stem from it are definitely real. Our killer could be suffering from them." She stated in her best clinical voice. Avila didn't fight back, "I appreciate your rationalism, Agent Scully," he said. "I'll try anything to catch this guy. It's just a little outside my realm of experience. How do we proceed?" "I think we should set up a sting," replied Mulder. "Find a woman that fits his bill and hit one of these night spots." "No problem," spouted Avila, "but how do you suggest we find a young attractive female cop that has narcolepsy and is game to bait herself for a murderer? "I thought the LAPD could do anything." Mulder mocked. "Look, Spooky, I don't need your..." he said angrily. "HEY!" Scully stepped between the two of them. "This isn't necessary." "What?" asked Avila. "I have narcolepsy." She replied. "Since when?!" Mulder blurted. "You don't know EVERYTHING about me, Mulder. It's not really something that comes up in daily conversations." "Well, Agent Scully, you certainly keep a man on his toes, I'll give you that." Avila said with a wink. Mulder protectively stepped toward her, ignoring Avila, "You want to use yourself as bait?" "Do you have a better idea?" She fought back "Yes. We get someone else." "Mulder, we have no other leads. I'll be fine. You'll be with me, along with the team the detective puts together," she said turning towards Avila, "Can you make this happen, Detective?" "You got it. Give me the afternoon to assemble the team. We'll meet in the conference room first thing in the morning for briefing." Avila left them alone and headed to his office. She watched him walk away and felt Mulder staring down at her. The look in his eyes was different... not angry... not disappointment... just different than normal. "What is it with the two of you, Mulder?" "Nothing. You ready to go?" They drove to the hotel in silence and went their separate ways. THURSDAY MORNING - LAPD HEADQUARTERS - BRIEFING ROOM Avila took care of all introductions and brought the team up to speed. "OK, people. We're casing the Drink. It seems to have absorbed the largest crowd. We have full cooperation from the ownership. Rico, you'll be working the door. Adams and Mack, and Jones and Martinez, you guys will escort Agent Scully in the limo. Once you get inside, you will shadow her every move. We'll have one back-up team outside along with a standby surveillance van." "What's the object, Sir?" asked Martinez "To try to make contact with our killer." "How?" "That's up to Agent Scully. What I need from you guys is undivided attention. She's putting herself on the line for this, so don't let her down." They all focused on her, sizing up her tiny frame. Mulder felt the tension and spoke up. "Agent Scully can more than handle herself, gentlemen, just try to keep up with her." Jones turned to his partner and mumbled, "I bet she can." "Knock it off, Jones!" shouted Avila before he continued. "Our studio contact is bringing in wardrobe for our escorts." He turned to Scully and handed her a piece of paper, "Agents, if you'll go to this address you'll be outfitted for the evening." Scully took it, "What's this place?" "Specialty shop - Owned by an old "student." I helped him reform his wayward life so he does me favors now and then. Just tell him I sent you and where you're going and he'll take care of you." THURSDAY AFTERNOON- BACK IN THE DRESSING ROOM Antonio, the "student," as Avila had called him, was a reformed drug dealer with a flair for the flamboyant. After getting busted he would have been killed in prison, but was protected by Avila in exchange for information on his entire network. "I'm dying out here, Dana. Let me see!" he cried. Scully looked at her reflection again, reluctantly pulled back the curtain and stepped out in front of him. "Ohmygosh! Look at you, you little red-headed vixen - You are HOT!" She blushed, "I don't know, Antonio, I'm not used to this." "It suits you, sweetie. There's just one thing that's off," he said as he motioned to the gold cross around her neck, "That just won't due." "Oh, of course," Scully said as she placed her hand over it. "Don't worry; I have something that will work just as well" Antonio went in the back and returned with a leather choker with a large silver cross pendant. He tied it around her neck. "God is hip in any style," he said with a wink. Scully sighed with relief and gazed silently at her reflection. Her fiery hair, crimson lips and smoky eyes went perfect with her new outfit. Antonio grabbed her shoulders from behind and looked at her in the mirror, "My little S & M Cinderella. You know, I usually hate doing favors for the LAPD, but this was fun. You're beautiful, Dana. Go have a good time, and don't take any crap from the queens!" "Thank you so much," she smiled as she slipped on her coat and hurried out to the limousine waiting for her. The cops in the limo couldn't help but tease her on the way to the club. "Oh, give me a break, guys!" She quipped. She had to admit she felt pretty sexy. Mulder was already inside as they had agreed to arrive separately to protect their cover. Scully was as nervous about seeing him as she was about the assignment. "What if something happens and he doesn't even recognize me?" She thought. "No. Its OK, Dana, just relax. Go in, have a drink, observe." She centered herself and got into character. "I'm cool and relaxed. I'm just here to have a good time." The limo eased to a stop and the driver opened the door for her. "This is kinda fun." She thought to herself. She slid one sleeve of her coat off her shoulder and put an aloof expression on her face as she stepped out of the car. She made her way to the VIP entrance where an undercover officer from the LAPD was working the door. She had met him in the briefing. He looked her up and down as he grabbed the end of the velvet rope. "Damn, girl," he whispered as he moved the rope so she could pass. She gave him a wink and disappeared into the darkness. The Drink was your standard techno club, not that either Mulder or Scully knew what that was. What looked like a vacant warehouse on the outside was anything but. The house music was infectious, the bass so loud that one could feel it in his chest. Gothic architecture adorned the walls. The ceiling was scattered with faux stained glass skylights. Neon and industrial metal coiled and climbed the walls. Large cages hung over the multilevel dance floor. Each one filled with a beautifully costumed man or woman. The air was saturated with smoke and humidity. Bodies were everywhere, beautiful people everywhere. Scully had worried about the way she looked, but felt easy about it in these surroundings. She fit in perfectly. It helped her focus on the task at hand. "OK. Look like your having a good time. Find Mulder." Scully had to admit that she loved the music. It simply made her want to move. She headed to the bar and ordered a drink. As she waited, her hips swayed to the beat. Mulder had settled on the steel pipe railing in the balcony so he could observe the evening's events. He did enjoy the view of scantily clad women, but where was Scully? "She should be here by now..." His thoughts were interrupted by a brush on the elbow. "Hi." Mulder turned to see a cute little blonde at his side. "It's so hot down there; I had to come up here to get a drink. You mind if I lean on your rail?" "Suit yourself. I thought you were gonna ask if I come here often?" Mulder jokingly replied. "Well that was my next sentence." She smiled back. She was attractive, but Mulder was working. He figured he could ask her about the murder. "Is it always this crowded here?" He asked. "Not really, but I think everyone's probably here instead of at Seven's." Mulder played dumb, "Seven's, where's that?" "Oh, it's a few blocks over, they shut down for a few weeks while the police investigate the disappearance of that girl." "Oh, I heard a blurb about that on the news today. Did you know her?" "Not really, I just saw her out all the time. Her Dad's a senator so she's kind of visible, but it's just scary..." her eyes drifted away and her brow dipped in concern, "It could've been anyone..." "I guess it didn't stop you from being here tonight." "Oh, heck no! No psycho's going to stop me from having a good time!" She said defiantly. "Enough of that depression. You do shots?" "I, uh....," Mulder stammered. "Great! Where's the wait...," she stopped mid sentence and stared down at the dance floor. "Oh there he goes," she laughed. "What?" Mulder looked down to see a large man in a pink boa carrying a girl onto the dance floor. "Is that Dennis Rodman?" He asked. "Yeah, isn't he magnificent?!" "It looks like he has a reluctant partner." Mulder mind realed as he looked back down to the girl Rodman had in his arms. "Is that...?! Nahh..." It WAS her. And she was wearing black leather. ONE MINUTE EARLIER - DOWNSTAIRS BAR "Excuse me." Scully spun around to see a very imposing man. "Hey." He said through a toothy grin, "You must dance with me!" "Uh...," she flashed a semi-concerned look at her "bodyguards" before settling back into character. "I don't know. What's in it for me?" she teased. "I'll show you," he said as he scooped her up in his arms. How did I get into this? Scully thought as, Dennis Rodman, THE Dennis Rodman set her down in the middle of the dance floor. He slipped his hands around her waist and smiled big at her. "I thought Mulder was tall." She thought. "Well, I'm supposed to fit in, right?" She teasingly smiled back and they took in the music and danced together. She couldn't get over how small she was next to him, but she was having so much fun that she barely noticed. Mulder gathered himself and focused back on the blond. "I've gotta hit the little boys room and then I'll get us some drinks. What's your poison?" He said. "Surprise me." She teased. "Ok, I'll be back." Mulder made his way down the stairs and to the edge of the dance floor just as Rodman was walking off. He scanned for Scully. He couldn't believe his eyes. It wasn't just black leather that she was wearing, it was "spike heal knee boots with a short mini and a slinky top" black leather. Her porcelain skin glistened from the dance floor heat. The music went through her entire body as she lost herself in character. Bodies writhed, touched, and swayed as one as the music owned everyone on the floor. Scully was having fun. She was brought back to reality by a firm grip on her arm and a mouth on her ear. "Wanna dance?" Mulder smirked as he grabbed her round the waist and pulled her close. The music was so loud that they had to speak cheek to cheek. "Mulder!" "Just keep dancing. I may have a lead." "Where have you been? I was looking all over for you." "Oh yeah, I can tell you were beside yourself missing me." He teased. "I was just trying to blend in." she defended herself, embarrassed. "Well, too bad it didn't work. You're stunning. I almost didn't recognize you." "Uh.......thanks, I guess." "There's a young blonde upstairs that mentioned the murder to me. She says she was acquainted with the victim. I think she's telling the truth, but I'm gonna find out if she knows anything else. I'm supposed to be getting us drinks. Can you shadow her? See who else she talks to, who she's here with?" "No problem, but first, I may need one more dance with my new boyfriend. Did you know that he prefers wrestling to basketball?" Scully smirked. "Yeah, well if you like that sort of thing. Regardless, I get you for the rest of this song," Mulder said seriously as he ran his fingers over her shoulders and down the backs of her arms. Scully's crimson lips curled upward as they danced on. It was the oddest moment they had ever shared; grinding in the middle of a dance club in Los Angeles. And who knew Mulder could dance so well. : After freshening up in the bathroom, Scully found a dark corner to watch Mulder and the girl interact. Over the next hour, she excused herself three times to use the restroom. Scully trailed her every time to no avail. "Frequent urination often accompanies heavy drinking." she analyzed to herself. She did seem to know almost everyone in the bar, so Mulder had picked a good informant. She was busy gabbing as she made her way back to Mulder, so Scully grabbed an empty bar stool and ordered a drink while she waited. "Let me get that," a deep, gravelly voice. Scully turned to the seat next to her. It was a large, handsome man with dark eyes. "Oh, that's OK." She quickly replied. "I insist. I never let a beautiful woman pay for a drink in my presence, especially if she has red hair." He smiled and went on, "Really, no strings attached. I got it." "Thank you." "I'm Neil," he said as he reached out a hand. "Dana," she replied. Scully looked back at the bathroom door and saw the blonde heading back towards the stairs. She turned her back as the girl walked by them. Neil reached out and grabbed her arm. "Where you off to?" he inquired in a deep scary voice. "Neil?! What are you doing here?! Where have you been?" They hugged and chatted like best friends. "Allow me to introduce you to my new friend. This is Dana. Dana, this is Leslie, one of my oldest friends." "Hi." Scully said and turned back to the bar as not to distract from their conversation. "I can't believe how big you are, have you been working out?!" she teased. Leslie raised his sleeve and grabbed onto his bicep. Scully was startled to see a tattoo identical in form to the victims' on his arm. She thought quickly of how to inform Mulder. "Excuse me a sec," she interrupted their conversation and leaned in to whisper in Neil's ear. "I have some friends upstairs. I'm going to go tell them to find their own way home. When I get back, I want to dance with you." "OK. I'll be here." He coolly replied. She winked at him and headed upstairs, "Nice to meet you, Leslie" She went to Mulder knowing he would not be happy with her plan of action. She noticed that he looked her up and down as she approached his table. "Mulder, some guy at the bar just bought me a drink and apparently he knows Leslie." "You met her?" "Yeah, he introduced us. Mulder, he has the same Greek- letter style tattoo on his arm. He's waiting for me, and he wants to party. I'm going after this." "Scully, be careful, we don't know who the hell this guy is." "If I can get him to take me home with him, I might find something we can use." "Are you crazy?!" Just then, Scully noticed Leslie coming up the stairs. "Here she comes, Mulder. This is our only lead. You know I have to do this. Find out what Leslie knows about him. The team will be watching me. I'll be fine" She turned to go and Mulder jumped up and grabbed her hand, "Scully, please..." She squeezed his hand, "I'll be careful." She rushed away so Leslie wouldn't see her and gave a glancing tip to her team on the way back to the bar. Neil was in the same spot. "I thought you were playing with me...." "Shut up," she said as she grabbed his arm and headed to the dance floor. "I hope you can keep up." They danced in silence until they were soaked to the bone. Mulder periodically glanced down to check on her. He was nauseous. "Who are you, buddy?" He went on and on in his head. Leslie only knew Neil from her health club and the night life. She said he was really serious and intelligent, but that was it. Luckily, the shots had pushed her way over the legal limit, so she didn't notice how distracted Mulder was nor would she remember telling him anything. He figured after a few more drinks he could have an officer escort her home and she wouldn't know the difference. Although Scully was playing this part and writhing on the dance floor, her mind was vividly aware of her task and surroundings. "Please let this work." She thought. Although Neil was dancing very close to her, he was quite the gentleman. "Let's get another drink" Scully was glad to hear it, "Ok." "The bar looks crowded. Would you like to come to my place?" She had been out of the 'singles' environment for so long that she had forgotten how easily men could be led. She actually appreciated his forwardness. "I assume that the bar there isn't crowded?" she teased, "I have a car outside." : The limo pulled up to the door and the valet opened the door for them. They settled inside. "A car, huh? Just who are you anyway." "Just Dana. Where are we headed?" "Mulholland Drive. Then west" TWELVE MINUTES LATER, BACK IN THE CLUB Mulder lifted Leslie up and practically carried her to the back door where a cop in an unmarked car met them. "Take her home and put her to bed, she is out of it until tomorrow. Where is Agent Scully heading?" "Yes sir, they headed west toward Santa Monica hills, the driver just called in the address. Mulder grabbed his car and sped to the address. The drive was about forty minutes and he passed the time by playing out every worst case scenario in his head. Damn it, Scully! This guy could be the killer. She's crazy! God, please keep her safe. The house was in a hilly subdivision west of LA proper. It sat on a large plot at the end of a village green and was hidden behind a line of tall trees. The driveway angled far into the property and away from the rode. He called the surveillance van and circled around to the back of the property where it was parked in an overgrown field. He parked his car and burst into the van. "Could you get any further away? What's happening?" he almost shouted. "Easy, buddy, she's fine," he replied, pulling the binoculars down from his eyes. "This is the best view of the place. They just got there a few minutes ago. They're on the balcony, just talking I think. She sent the limo home as a cover, but he's right down the rode." "Is her wire working?" "Yeah, not much going on. Check it out," he said handing Mulder the headphones. INSIDE THE HOUSE Scully scanned every inch of the house she could see for a clue. She excused herself to the restroom where she investigated even more. There was nothing out of the ordinary. She glanced at herself in the mirror and wondered what Mulder was thinking. She was alone. She gathered herself and joined Neil on the balcony. "I told you the view was great. I'll get us some wine." Scully leaned onto the railing and looked down over the city. It was beautiful. She wasn't afraid, but she hoped that they were listening. Neil returned to her with one glass of wine. "I thought we could share. Do you mind?" "No," she took it. He leaned on the rail next to her and kissed her neck as she sipped the wine. She had been so anxious to find answers that she hadn't thought specifically about what would happen once she got there. She had to play this part for now. "I can walk right out of here anytime." She thought to reassure herself. She responded to him by running her hand up his arm and under his shirt sleeve. "I've got one of these, too," she said referring to his tattoo. "Really? Where is it?" "It's pretty small. Maybe you'll find it later," she said seriously. "I've never seen one like this before. What does it mean?" "You're the first woman to ever ask me that, Dana." "Really? It's so different; I figured you'd get that a lot." "Maybe from a tattoo artist, but not from the woman that I bring..." he blurted, realizing how bad it sounded. "Oh," she felt uncomfortable at the thought of strangers and one-night stands. "Well, I wasn't a stupid teenager when I got it. It actually means something to me, so I thought yours might be the same. " "Dana, I'm sorry. That came out wrong." "Don't explain," she knew she was getting to him. "You just caught me off guard. Would it freak you out if I say that I find you fascinating?" "I noticed that on the dance floor," she flirted. "That's not it. You're different...serious." He took her hand and touched it to his tattoo. "It does have special meaning. It's a reminder." "You too, huh? Of what?" "Something I can't shake loose of. Do you have something like that?" She thought seriously for a moment before answering. "It's more of a someone," she said honestly. "A-ha," he grinned, "old boyfriend? The one that got away?" "Not exactly." She smiled. "Who then?" Lying had never been her strength, so she told him the truth to save her cover. "A colleague." "Hmm," he growled with a grin on his face, "an unrequited desire." "I'm not sure what to call it. It's very complicated" she answered. Neil stared into the night as he spoke. "I've been there, Dana. It's a natural hunger... part of all of us... made deep inside. You try to repress it and over the years it builds and grows. Seems like time makes it worse; You try everything to bury it, to deny it, to fight it, but in the end, you just end up completely ravenous." His insight brought tears to her eyes. The sadness she had felt in the morgue and again in the hotel hallway returned. "Wow," she whispered, genuinely startled by his words. "You know, Dana, once you feed it... it only grows stronger." She looked out into the night and thought of him. "You're right. Sometimes the cost is just too high." She sipped some wine and shrugged her shoulders before getting back to the real task, "And who is the woman that gave you your hunger?" "I wish it were that simple." He said through downcast eyes. "What then?" "I'd call it more of an accident." "Accident?" "Yes, I accidentally discovered my appetite, and now I live in fear..." She tightened her grip on his arm, "What are you afraid of?" He looked in her eyes and touched her lips with his fingers, then slowly ran them down her neck. He settled his palm on her exposed back and whispered, "Let me show you." : "NO!!" Mulder cried. "Call the team and tell them to meet me at the front door, NOW!" He jumped out of the truck and ran for the house. "Please, Scully, use your head!" : Neil pressed his hand firmly against her skin and looked deep into her eyes. "What are you... I, ...I," Scully was suddenly unable to move. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her breath grew rapid and shallow. "What...are you doing...to me?" "I'm sorry, Dana, but you have to see this. I can't hold it inside." He pressed harder on her and her legs froze. "Oh god!" Scully cried. "No, please!" There was a blinding flash followed by hollow darkness. FLASH Her body plunged into icy water. "Is this real?" Why did her blood run cold? There was no light and no air. Her stalled limbs failed her as she sank into the icy chasm - into unspeakable depths. FLASH The cold was replaced with stinging sweat. "Am I breathing? Stop!! Get off!!" Hot breath touched her neck and she felt angry hands all over her body, clawing their way to forbidden places. She tried to scream out but her throat was thick like cold molasses. Feelings of humiliation and shame overwhelmed her confused mind. FLASH Heat was replaced with emptiness. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. It was a tiny, dirty house. Shudders flapped and floors creaked as she searched for people, for voices...for anything. Broken toys cluttered the filth-stained floor. "Anyone? Where am I? Mommy?" Angry screams pierced the silence. "I hate you! You're always in the way! I wish you were never born! I HATE YOU!!!" She ran for the closet and slammed the door. Crouched on the floor in frightening darkness, she clutched her ears to drown the screaming. FLASH The wood beneath her gave way and dampness returned. The only sound was that of rain and her body sinking into mucky ground. Gravity pulled her and she rolled end over end down a slippery slope. "Is this real?" There was a loud thud when her body hit the bottom and the air was forced out of her lungs. She rolled onto her knees and gasped for the air to return. As she groped through the darkness a familiar smell filled the air... blood. She squinted but hers eyes failed her. FLASH A spotlight showered her from directly above and her eyes were opened to the surface around her. "Oh god!" Bodies were everywhere, as far as her eyes could see: naked and rotting, but still conscience. FLASH She closed her eyes tightly. "This isn't real. Stop." Something forced her eyelids open and she gazed into the vacant eyes of... "NO... oh no... it can't be..." Madison Andrews and the other three victims, frozen in their own fears. "Please, Neil......" As she was crying out, the flashes stopped. "FBI!! Take your hands off her...right now!" Neil turned to see Mulder and four other men pointing guns at him. He looked dazed as he slowly removed his hand from Scully's back. She fell face down to the floor. "Scully!" Mulder rushed to her limp body. "Call an ambulance!" He rolled her over and checked her pulse. "Scully? Can you hear me?" Her eyes rolled round a few times as she regained her focus. "Mulder, I...," "It's Ok," he reassured her, "Your safe." She focused her eyes and looked at Neil who had dropped to his knees and was sobbing. "I'm so sorry, Dana. Please don't hate me. I didn't..." Mulder moved towards him "Why you piece of ...!" One of the officers stepped in front of him, "Agent Mulder, she's safe now, back off," Scully looked sorrowfully at Neil and then up at Mulder as tears rolled down her cheeks, "It's Ok, Mulder. He means it. Please, just get me out of here." He picked her up and led her to the dining room. "Sit down here. I want the EMTs to take a look at you before we go to the station. He kept a steady hand on her shoulder as they sat in silence. Scully was strong but she was as shaken as he had ever seen her. "Mulder, he...he showed me...I saw them. He did it Mulder. He killed those women," she began to cry. "He showed me." "It's Ok, Scully, he won't hurt anyone again. He showed you? In your head, you mean?" "I saw them, they were screaming, just like I was. He...," Scully reached round to her back. "He pressed his hand on my ...look Mulder." Mulder ran his hand down her back and over the spot where Neil had pressed her. The Greek letters were there, wrapping around to form a perfect circle, just like his. "Mulder, how long was I out?" "About 60 seconds." "How is that possible? He couldn't have done this that quickly." "Scully, you know he didn't tattoo you." "It's like he branded me. But I can't explain how." "I don't know Scully, he said he was cursed. I guess it's his hex sign, the portal by which his fears enter his victims. Let's hope that's all the damage that's done." Mulder wrapped things at the crime scene while Scully was examined. They drove back to the station in silence to file their reports with Detective Avila. FRIDAY, FBI HEADQUARTERS: SKINNERS OFFICE Mulder and Scully sat across from Skinner once again. Their report lay on the desk in front of him. Scully began. "Neil Saunders was the victim of acute REM disorder. Diagnosed at the age of 11, he spent most of his adolescence seeking a cure. He has an extensive medical history having seen almost two dozen different psychiatrists and therapists. He was also in and out of numerous sleep treatment centers over the years. Unfortunately, he couldn't find a way to rid his mind of the ugliness that he felt." "Until he met the first victim." Mulder interjected. "Meaning?" Skinner inquired. "Meaning... he discovered that he could project them into his victims." Skinner thought for a moment, "Is this what happened to you, Agent Scully?" "Sir," Scully continued, "This isn't about me, but I don't believe that Neil Saunders was a deliberate murderer." "Deliberate?" "I believe that the death of the first victim was an accident." "Based on what?" "Clinical studies of subjects with sleep related disorders. It is a fact that heightened emotional states aggravate them. Neil had no idea that he had developed this "projection ability" until during a heightened state of emotion, in this case sexual intercourse, he experienced his first dream state and when he came out of it, there was a dead girl in his bed with this symbol on her body." She handed him pictures of each tattoo. "He's lived his entire life with this problem. Somehow, his body adapted to deal with it." Skinner studied them for a moment then looked at Mulder. He continued the report. "Turns out, Neil had a small obsession with Greek mythology. He even had a minor in mythological literature from UCLA. Somehow it manifested itself in his crime. Each Greek word is the name of a mythological god related to the dream realm." "Is this in accordance with your report, Agent Scully?" She felt the surprise in his voice. "Yes. I realize that a tattoo artist could have made these markings, but that's not how I got mine." She handed him another photo of her own back. "Noted. I'll submit your report. Thanks to you two, he's been isolated in a federal correctional facility." Scully looked at the floor and thought of Neil. She wasn't proud of the job she had done. Mulder noticing her expression replied for the both of them, "Thank you, Sir. It was Scully that did all the work." "Well, the Senator told me to pass along his gratitude. Detective Avila also called. He couldn't say enough nice things about you." Mulder looked at her and rolled his eyes. "Go home and get some rest Agent Scully, that's an order." "Thank you, sir." EVENING, SCULLY'S APARTMENT Scully lay on her couch listening to the rain lightly tapping overhead. The only light was from the occasional flash of lightening through the windows. She replayed the events of the last week and thanked God that she had made it back to the comfort of her home. A knock on the door surprised her. "Come in, Mulder?" She shouted at the door. He unlocked the door and strolled in with hot coffee in one hand and a pizza box in the other. "How're you feeling?" "Good." "Just sitting around in the dark?" He said as he sunk into the end of the couch. "No. I was just relaxing, thinking about Neil sitting in isolation, not able to touch another human being for the rest of his life." Her candor surprised him, "I would think you'd be pleased that we got him." "I'm pleased that he's off the street, but...." "What?" "I don't know... nothing." They sat side by side, for the first time in many years, uncomfortable in their silence. "Nothing, huh? I think you connected with him Scully." "That's a little obvious by this mark on my back." "That's not what I'm talking about." "Oh?" "I mean before he touched you. You really got to him - I could hear it in his voice." He observed, "Maybe he got to you, too." She remembered the exchange and shivered at how vulnerable she'd let herself be. "I had a job to do, Mulder." She said, brushing him off. "Yeah, and you did it well. Your interaction with him was so, so... real. You seemed so candid with him." "Thanks. It didn't occur to me that you were listening. Were you in the surveillance van?" "Yes." "Did you hear everything?" she asked, realizing where he might be going with his questioning. "I heard enough." "Look Mulder, I said what I had to say," she said, defensively, "I didn't have a lot of time to think about it." "So you were going on instinct, on real feelings." She hated the vulnerability that she felt. She stood up and looked down at him. "Mulder, please don't do this." "What?" She headed towards the kitchen, "Grill me like this." "I'm not trying to grill you." He got up and followed her. She kept her back to him. She had long feared this moment and she didn't trust her emotions to handle it, so she relied on her strength: science... "Mulder, I'm not sure what you're about to say, but there have been hundreds of case studies examining the 'Partner Dynamic.' Whatever you need to say, whatever you're feeling, it's all normal, but can be attributed to our connection through our work. How many times have you saved my life or have I saved yours? It would be easy for me to take the way that you protect me as affection, but you would do the same for any other agent in the same situation because that's the type of partner that you are." Mulder's eyes flashed anger as he stepped into her space. "That's bullshit and you know it, Scully! You think that my training has anything to do with this? We are partners first, but for you to say that our relationship is strictly professional really pisses me off...." "That's not what I meant..." she tried to interject, but he wouldn't allow it. "Do you have any idea what it was like to sit in that van while that killer had his hands on you? Do you think that I burst through the door with four cops as a professional courtesy?" He mocked. "Honestly, Scully, you know exactly what I'm talking about, but you're trying to hide your emotions with your medical jargon bullshit." The truth of his words shamed her and she looked at the floor. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I'm just not sure what to do with this." He went on in his anger and frustration... "What are you afraid of? Do you think that I would lose all of that respect and admiration? I've told you how important your work has been to me. To the truth..." "Exactly, Mulder!" she cried. "Your search for the truth has been so consuming that it is all you know. It's all WE know together. If we aren't searching together, then what will we do?" He paused and sighed deeply as he turned his back on her. His tone softening as he continued... "You're right, Scully, we do have a 'partner dynamic.' It has something to do with everything that we've been through together. Or the fact that we spend almost every waking moment together." He said as he turned back towards her, "Over the years, the space between us has gotten smaller and smaller. I know you feel it, too." She stared at him in consternation. Tears came to her eyes but she didn't fight them back. She simply stared at her partner. She had nothing to say to him. He was right and there was nothing to argue about. Mulder walked to her and took her face in his hands. He kissed the top of her head, then her forehead. He kissed the tears on both of her cheeks before moving to her lips. She took him in as if they had kissed everyday for the last six years: sweet, comfortable, and true. After a moment, she stepped away from him and walked to the window. She caught her breath as she watched the raindrops slide down the glass. There was silence between them for several minutes until the phone rang. Scully continued looking outside as she spoke, "The machine will get it." BEEP "Agent Scully? Yeah, Anthony Avila here. Just calling to check on you and thank you again for your help on the case. (long pause) Um, I've got a conference in DC in a few weeks and I was wondering if you might like to have dinner with me. Think about it and give me a call at the station. Thanks" BEEP A grin crossed her lips as she stared at the machine and then back at Mulder. He rolled his eyes, "You've got to be kidding." He said as he shook his head "Damn LAPD." "You jealous, Mulder?" she joked. "I'll ask the questions, Agent Scully." He said, suddenly serious. "What is it, Mulder?" A wicked smile formed as he walked towards her. "You still have the black leather outfit?" End Feedback: nmack@tulsacoxmail.com 1