Wizard II: The Yellow Brick Road by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com January, 1997 Summary: Scully loses her hard won perspective when she gets a mysterious phone call and is forced to explore the depth of her commitment to Mulder. Post El Mundo Gira. Sequel to Wizard I. Spoilers: Mention of events in Duane Barry, Paper Clip and Wetwired. Classification/Rating: TA. ScullyAngst. Strong PG-13 for language. Disclaimer: Ok, guys and gals, you know the drill... Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. They are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and 1013 Productions, and have been used without permission. Any characters you don't recognize immediately are mine, mine, mine! I say. And so are the situations, bless my ever twisted little mind. This is a sequel to 'Wizard I: Mulder and Mutants and Babes, Oh My'. This *can* stand alone, but would probably make more sense if you read the other one first -- otherwise you might get lost in the poppies. Author's Notes follow the story. I would appreciate feedback in any shape or form. *********************************************************************** Wizard II: The Yellow Brick Road by Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com Part One: Somewhere Over The Rainbow ***** Just how far would you go, Agent Scully? How far? Agent Scully? ***** The message light on her answering machine screamed at her, blinking on and off , on and off . Bite me Mulder. ***** Scully got up from her couch, where she had been idly contemplating hara-kiri. Automatically she bent and started picking up the remains of her favorite vase. It was Waterford. From Ireland. It was part of what her mother liked to call 'Dana's Hopeless Chest'. Hopeless was right, Mom. 'Was' being the operative word. ***** Oh, *all right*. She dumped the glass into the wastebasket and punched the button to replay the messages on the machine. ***** "Dana? It's mom. Call me when you get in." *Beep* "Agent Scully. Walter Skinner. I want that revised report on my desk tomorrow morning. It damned well better have a better ending than last time." *Beep* "Scully, it's me. If you're screening, pick up. Scully? Call me." *Beep* "Agent Scully? I know you are there. And here I thought that you and your partner were so close that surely you would answer your telephone. You do not know me. I, on the other hand, know you. Meet me in Gramercy Park by the bandstand at 6:35 tonight. Come alone. Since you do not know me, I will have a mutual acquaintance introduce us." Another voice, this one familiar. "No! Scully, no don't--" Click. And the toneless hum of an open line. *BeepBeepBeep* ***** Scully flipped her wrist over. 6:18. If she left now, she could just make it. She grabbed her coat and cell phone; pulled her Sig out and checked the clip. She started toward the door, then detoured into her bedroom to snatch her off duty gun from her second drawer. Keys. Keys. Where were her keys? She had thrown them across the room; they had knocked over the vase. Finding them under the chair, she bolted across the room, checking her watch as she went. 6:21. Shit. ***** How far? How far would you go? ***** She blew stop signs and red lights, keeping one eye peeled for cops, the other on her watch. She forced herself to slow down and circled the small park carefully, casually, before pulling into a spot close to the bandstand. Nothing. No one. The park was deserted. Only the wind played in the swings and roundabout. The bandstand stood white and alone. Fuck. She kept on hand on her gun as she got out of the car, glancing left, right, forward and behind, wishing she had eyes in the back of her head, wishing for Mulder to cover her back, wishing. ***** Agent Scully? _____ End Part One of Five M: "So what do you want?" S: "To know that you're all right." The X Files, Little Green Men *********************************************************************** Part Two: Poppies ***** Just how far would you go, Agent Scully? How far? Agent Scully? ***** Scully moved carefully to the bandstand. "Hello?" A branch snapped off to her left and she spun, pulling her Sig up and around, clicking the safety off as she went. Nothing. No one. "Mulder? Where are you?" The wind sighed through the trees, rattling the leaves. Scully spun again, looking up, then lowered the gun to her side. She circled the bandstand warily, peeking through the split railings. Used rubbers. Beer cans. Empty. Looking around once more, she dug in her coat pocket for her cell phone. She punched in Skinner's number, and heard the first ring. She never heard the second. ***** How far? How far would you go? ***** It was dark. Pleasantly cool. Totally silent. Scully turned her head to the side and winced at the clamoring this set off. She brought her right hand up to touch her head, feeling for bruises and bumps. Nope. She did, however, feel slightly dizzy and nauseated, and there was a vanilla taste in her mouth. Probably chloroform. God, where did people get their hands on this stuff? She moved her hands and feet easily. Ok. Now what? Her coat was gone. Both the Sig and her off duty gun were gone. Her cell phone was gone. Getting up from the floor, she walked with her hands out in front of her until she came to a wall. A big room. Forty paces. She left her suit jacket to mark her place and paced the perimeter. Eighty paces on a side, with doors in two walls. No light switches that she could find. No windows. Well. That's a whole lotta nothing, Dana. She sat beside one of the doors, pulling her suit jacket back on as she began to get slightly chilled. And waited. ***** "Agent Scully. I do hope your nap was refreshing. Are you at all dizzy?" The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Scully pressed more tightly against the wall. She strained her eyes, but there was not even the slightest glimmer of light. "Where's Mulder?" "Ah. Very interesting, Agent Scully. Nearby." Silence. "Who are you?" "I am quite glad that you received my message. As I said to your infernal machine, I know you, Agent Scully. You, however, do not know me. That will soon be remedied." "How?" "Tsk, tsk. Agent Scully. Let us see about Agent Mulder first, shall we?" The air in the room changed. Compressed, then expanded. The other door had opened. A light, fresh fragrance of orange wafted in. "Now, then, Agent Scully. Please get up and walk to the door. Slowly." Scully got silently to her feet, and made her way around the room, sliding one hand along the wall as a guide. When her hand hit open air, she stopped. The room she faced was as pitch black as the one in which she now stood. She stifled a sigh. "Very good. Step through. You will find Agent Mulder at the far side of the room." All thought of caution fled as she rushed through the door. "Mulder!" ***** Agent Scully? _____ End Part Two of Five S: "Where are you going?" M: "If I told you you'd never let me go." The X Files, Talitha Cumi *********************************************************************** Part Three: The Emerald City ***** Just how far would you go, Agent Scully? How far? Agent Scully? ***** Scully stopped in the middle of the room as the door behind her closed with a quiet 'click'. Again she strained her eyes, but no light penetrated the blackness. The scent of orange continued to tease her nostrils, light and pleasant. "Mulder? Where are you?" "Agent Scully, I am afraid he cannot answer you at the moment. Continue forward. Carefully. You would not want to stumble over him, now would you?" She sidled her feet forward slowly until one hit something yielding. Kneeling quickly, she ran her hands over the shape in front of her: a man lying on his back, his hands cradled on his chest under his chin. Wool pants, bare chest lightly sprinkled with hair. The length of the legs was right; the slim waist flaring up into a broad chest was, too; so was the shape and feel of the hands, long-fingered, slim. There was a slight puckered place on the left side of his chest, just beneath the collarbone. His skin was slightly chilled, but his breathing was even, deep and normal. She took off her suit jacket again and spread it over his bare chest. She brushed the face before her lightly, feeling it as a blind person would, trying to match it to Mulder's. The length and texture of the hair, silky and rich; the high brow; the tiny lines at the corners of the eyes; the long, straight nose; the soft, soft lips, the upper one somewhat thinner than the lower; the small square chin. Beard stubble rasped against her hands. His pulse was strong and steady. It *felt* like Mulder. It *smelled* like Mulder, the familiar combination of cologne and his own unique male muskiness very clear over the orange scent. "Are you sure, Agent Scully? Can you tell your partner by touch alone?" Scully took hold of his shoulder and shook him. "Mulder? It's me. Scully. Dana Scully." He didn't rouse; his breathing didn't change. "Good. That *was* impressive. You do yourself credit, Agent Scully. He cannot answer you. He is in a deep sleep, one from which he will soon awaken." "What have you done to him? Who are you?" she cried out, frustrated to the point of tears. The voice didn't answer. "What do you want from me?" she asked more quietly, her voice thick. "Ah. That does seem to be the question, does it not, Agent Scully? In a moment. First, explore your surroundings. I do understand the lash of curiosity, and feel, that in your case, it would be quite strong." Scully was very reluctant to leave Mulder's side, but she needed to know more about the place they were. She got up and stretched her arm out over Mulder and touched the wall, then repeated the procedure of pacing the room. This room was somewhat smaller, sixty paces by fifty paces. The door she had come in was the only one. There were no light switches, no windows. She did encounter a disturbing *something* on the far wall, but could not puzzle it out. Something like a towel rack, placed just at the highest reach of her fingers. The walls themselves were cool and smooth, as was the floor. She shook her head and returned to Mulder, again kneeling beside him. She put her hand on his neck, ostensibly to check his pulse, but really just to touch him, to feel him there beside her. His presence comforted her. "What do you want from me?" she asked again. For long minutes the voice didn't answer, and she was about to ask a third time when it chuckled. The sound was indescribably frightening. Her entire body was swept with gooseflesh, and the hair at the back of her neck stood out stiffly. "You are quite lovely. The contrast of your skin and eyes; not to mention that fiery hair. What is truly remarkable is that you are so unaffected about your appearance. Very unusual." Oh, God. She realized she was trembling. She picked up Mulder's hand with her free one and held it tightly. Mulder, please, wake up. "He will not awaken for some time yet." Get out of my head! "How long?" Silence. "Who are you?" Her skin itched, as if touched by tiny spiders. Silence. "Why have you brought us here?" She drew her legs up sharply as something brushed past her. Or was it only her imagination? Silence. "What do you want from me?" ***** Agent Scully? _____ End Part Three of Five S: "Anyway, you could use my help." M: "Always." The X Files, Irresistible *********************************************************************** Part Four: The Haunted Forest ***** Just how far would you go, Agent Scully? How far? Agent Scully? ***** "Ah. What do I want from you? Let us work toward that end. Just how far would you go for your partner, Agent Scully? What would you be willing to do?" She bit her lip hard, terrified that the voice seemed to know the very thoughts in her head. Hadn't she just been contemplating that back in her apartment? She blinked away the tears that rose to her eyes at the pain in her mouth. She was stronger than this. There *was* a rational explanation. She just wasn't seeing it. "Agent Mulder will awaken shortly, Agent Scully, and I do wish to have this matter settled before he does. It is vitally urgent that you be completely honest. How far would you go?" "What do you mean?" Scully asked hoarsely, her mind methodically forming, then disgustedly discarding possibilities for escape. She began to feel more and more trapped. What *wouldn't* she do for Mulder? She had already gone so far over the line that to worry about what she would and wouldn't do seemed almost ludicrous. "You see, Agent Scully, I have often wondered why you stay with Agent Mulder." A choked laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it. Why indeed? She ran through the reasons she had told herself earlier: friendship, loyalty, shared experience, covering your partner's ass. "But those things are not quite the whole picture, Agent Scully, are they? There is something else that is driving you. And although your motivations are of interest to me -- the question of 'why' being every bit as intriguing as the question of 'what' -- 'what' is the question I am interested in at the moment." Get out of my head! Her breathing quickened, and the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped was becoming worse. "Your situation in life certainly has not improved since your first meeting, Agent Scully. One might even say that it has taken a distinct downturn. My curiosity is quite strong, and I cannot help but want to indulge it. It is my one remaining pleasure. And so, I want to know: How far would you go?" "How do you know these things about me? What do you *want*?" The calm beat of Mulder's pulse remained strong beneath her fingers, anchoring her. "As I told you, Agent Scully, although you do not know me, I know you. I know your family. I know about your father, and your sister. I know--" the voice paused, the first time it had done so, then resumed, "everything about you. Except for the answer to the question I have asked you three times now. You would not want me to ask it yet again. That could be--" again the voice paused, "unfortunate." ***** How far? How far would you go? ***** Scully straightened her back and her chin rose defiantly. "Are you asking me if I would give my life for his? If I would die for him?" "Would you, Agent Scully?" "Yes, I would." Her voice was clear and even, full of conviction. Of course. That's the next step, isn't it? "Ah. Would you, knowing that if you did so, he might soon take his own life from guilt at your loss?" "Who are you?" she screamed, as her mind reeled, unwilling to believe that the voice knew even that about her and Mulder, about their relationship. Was nothing secret? She barely acknowledged it herself. She didn't *want* to acknowledge it. She felt dirty all over, violated in a sense that was far more than physical, mental, or spiritual. It was an obscene combination of all three that was far more potent. "Does that matter? I think not, Agent Scully. I think not." ***** Agent Scully? _____ End Part Four of Five S: "Mulder, you're the only one I trust." The X Files, E.B.E. M: "Scully, you are the only one I trust." The X Files, Wetwired *********************************************************************** Part Five: Oz, The Great and Terrible ***** Just how far would you go, Agent Scully? How far? Agent Scully? ***** She sat silent for an unknowable time, shivering, clutching Mulder's hand desperately. Please, Mulder, I need you now. His pulse throbbed under her other hand, counting out the beats of his life. More phantom spiders ran through her hair. At least she hoped they were phantom. "He will not awaken for a time yet. Although the depth of your devotion is touching, Agent Scully, and quite compelling, you have not yet truly answered my question." "What more can I tell you? I've already said I would die for him. Isn't that what you wanted to know?" She shifted her legs uneasily, then pulled Mulder's head to cradle in her lap. She threaded her fingers through his hair, sliding the strands over her palms, allowing herself the small joy of feeling the silky texture without repercussions or worry of professionalism or the need to explain, feeling connected to him in a way that was more than physical contact. It was similar to the sense of him that she had when he had gone missing in New Mexico. She had just *known* he wasn't dead. If he was dead she felt sure she would have known; there would have been a difference in perception, in reality. The weight of him was solid, real. His breathing remained natural and smooth. "That was part of the answer I was seeking, yes, but not all. Agent Scully, I know that you are willing to risk your life and your career for your partner. You have already done so on numerous occasions. However, if given the choice, would you take pain that was meant for him?" ***** How far? How far would you go? ***** "Pain?" Scully's analytical mind turned the question over and over, examining it from all sides. There were all different kinds of pain. What sort of pain did the voice mean? Emotional pain? If she could take away the torture of responsibility that Mulder felt over Samantha's disappearance she would. If she could take upon herself the unspoken guilt that he felt for not protecting her from Duane Barry, she knew that she would do it in an instant. Physical pain? Although she hadn't actually taken a bullet meant for him, she had no doubt that, if necessary, she would. "Yes, I suppose I would." "Ah. You are sure? Be certain, Agent Scully. This is the crux of the matter." Oh, really? "You mean that if I answer yes that you're going to torture me? Yes, damn it, I'm sure." The voice laughed. If chuckling was frightening, this was terrifying. The blackness she was sitting in became thicker, gaining an almost physical presence; the air became chillier. The scent of orange that had been there all along suddenly disappeared. It was replaced by a sour, acrid smell that reminded her unpleasantly of the dank basement of the library at college, with its dim lighting, hidden carrels and stacks of arcane texts on the many ways of inflicting pain upon a human being, detailed for posterity in the crisp, precise language of medicine; it reminded her of the formaldehyde of autopsy bays and experiments on cadavers; it reminded her of vivisection and evisceration. Scully couldn't remember when she had been so afraid. The only thing that came close was that brief period of time when the world had turned upside down and she had believed that Mulder was trying to kill her; *Mulder*, the one who was her balance. The air became even thicker, hard to breathe. Her hands slid from Mulder's hair, and she realized vaguely that she was falling. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, far away now. "That was lovely, my dear. And quite useful. I appreciate your candor. I do hope that we will meet again." NO!! "Soon." ***** Agent Scully? _____ End Part Five of Five Author's Notes: Big thanks to Deb P., for beta reading and for being there, and to Bob for his continued support. Thanks also to those of you who wrote and encouraged, begged or demanded a sequel to 'Wizard I'. You know who you are. For those of you who are interested, the story titles in this series, which should be available at any of the wonderful Gossamer archives, (if you can't find them, mail me and I'll send them to you) are: Wizard I: Mulder and Mutants and Babes, Oh My Wizard II: The Yellow Brick Road Wizard III: Off to See the Wizard Oh, and by the way, these stories don't have a damned thing to do with the Wizard of Oz. So, please, let me know what you think... Audrey Cooper xf_writer@geocities.com S: "Do you know how much the human body is worth, Mulder?" M: "Depends on the body." The X Files, Hell Money