From ghill52695@aol.com Mon Dec 09 09:19:48 1996 I'm forwarding this story for the author, Danielle Culverson (smythja@aston.ac.uk). She would appreciate any comments! Subj: Woman 1/3 Date: 96-12-09 07:21:13 EST From: smythja@aston.ac.uk (smythja) Reply-to: smythja@aston.ac.uk To: GHill52695@aol.com This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. Rating - 15. Minor reference to "End Game" plot-line. Danielle Culverson. "Woman." J. Edgar Hoover building, Washington DC. 6.52pm, 14th April 2000. An auburn-haired woman sat at a computer console in the basement office of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Her small, slender fingers flew over the keys on the keyboard, and her green eyes followed the words that appeared on the blue screen in front of her. Behind her were two wooden desks. One was messy, with an open bag of sunflower seeds on it's surface amongst all the papers strewn across it. The other was neat and tidy. - A reflection of the personalities of the two people who used the desks. - Each desk had an imitation leather swivel chair behind it. Six metal filing cabinets stood in a row along the far wall. A waste paper basket with a toy basketball hoop above it stood near the door. - It was close to overflowing. - A coat-stand stood between basket and filing cabinets, supporting two overcoats, one black, one brown, and a small black baseball cap bearing the letters "N.I.C.A.P." The basement room was warm and stuffy. - The air conditioning hadn't worked for years, and although it was now somewhere on the list of necessary repair work in the building, it still hadn't been fixed. The door opened, and a dark-haired man came in. He was six foot one, with brown hair and green eyes, and wore a light grey suit. He carried three folders in his right hand. He looked over at the woman, and his eyes traveled up and down, taking in her dark blue skirt and jacket, her low-heeled blue suede shoes beneath the typist's chair she sat on, the way her thick wavy hair curled under as it hit her shoulders. He smiled. Walking over to his desk, - the scruffier of the two, - Special Agent Fox Mulder put the folders he held down, and then crossed the room to where the woman was sitting. He rested his right hand on her right shoulder, and whispered in her ear as he leaned down to read what she was writing. "Hi." he murmured, and kissed the corner of her ear-lobe. She laughed, and pulled her head away. "Hi, yourself." He tried again, and this time kissed her cheek. She brushed the hand on her shoulder away with playful impatience. "Now, now, Fox Mulder, you know the rules. - No fraternising at work." "So? Rules are made to be broken." This time he took hold of her left shoulder, and swiveled her around so she faced him. She smiled, put one slender arm around his neck, and drew his lips down to hers. He grinned as she released him. "So much for rules, eh, "Little" Agent Mulder?" Dana Mulder grimaced, but then couldn't hold the serious expression, and it turned into a grin. "I didn't notice you striving to stick to Bureau protocol, "Spooky" Agent Mulder." He laughed, and returned to his desk as she turned back to the computer. Sitting down, and pushing the sunflower seeds out of the way, he opened the first of the three files he had just brought in, and skimmed over the summary. He heard the sound of typing coming from the computer console, and grinned. "That's one good thing about this relationship, - you get to do nearly all the paperwork." he quipped. "Little" Mulder turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Yes, although I think that really you should do half, and then I could just sign my name at the bottom of it." "You mean *my* name." She shrugged, "Whatever." The printer at the side of the machine sprang into life suddenly, and rattled off a printout of the report she had just typed up. "Little" Mulder put the report into the back of the case-folder she had just finished working on, and dropped the folder onto her desk. She glanced at her watch. "Can those wait, Mulder? It's time we were going." "Sure." "Spooky" Mulder scribbled a couple of lines in pencil at the bottom of one of the reports, and then got to his feet. They grabbed their overcoats from the coat-stand, and left the office. * * * Fox and Dana's apartment, Annapolis, Maryland. 9.47pm, 14th April 2000. Fox slumped onto the couch, and gave a sigh that was a half groan. He threw one arm across his eyes as he let his muscles relax. Dana, who had followed him in from the kitchen, smiled at him. "I don't know why you're so tired," she teased, "You haven't even been working on a case." "Hey...!" Fox sat up, a half-complaint forming on his lips. Then he stopped, and sat back again. She was right. He hadn't been working on a case "officially". - But unofficially... Such was the bizarre and slightly unorthodox nature of their new relationship. At home, they were husband and wife, lovers, and partners in every sense of the word. At the office, "Little" Agent Mulder worked the X-files, with unofficial help from "Spooky" Agent Mulder, whose cases were mostly "Spooky-files", and kept suspiciously low in numbers so as to give him time to work in both departments. So far, every aspect of the relationship was a success. Dana moved to sit down next to her husband. He put an arm around her shoulders, and she rested her head against him. "What are you thinking about?" she asked, when a silence fell over them. Fox was gazing across the room towards the fish-tank. "Do you think we ought to get some more fish?" he asked, in a melodramatic tone that he might have used if he had asked her if they should have children yet. Dana laughed. "If you want to. - Is that really what you were thinking about?" He pulled a face, "Nah, I was wondering if you'd scream if I tickled you." He ran his fingers lightly up her side. She gave a mock shudder. "Oh, Fox, please don't!" He grinned, and put one hand against the side of her face, turning it towards him. He kissed her gently, and then drew away, one hand gently curling through her hair. He glanced towards the television, and then picked up the remote control. "T.V.?" She nodded, and he turned it on. The phone rang. "I'll get it." Dana stood up, and went out into the hall-way to answer it. "Hello?... Oh, hi Mom... Yes, we're fine. How are you?... Oh, yes?... You did? How did that happen?..." Dana's mother. Fox smiled, and loosened his tie before taking it off. - She could be on for some time. - He tuned out the half-conversation, and concentrated on the movie which was just beginning. When Dana finished her phone call, and came back into the main room, she found her husband asleep on the couch in front of the t.v. His tie and jacket were slung over a nearby chair, and the top button of his shirt was undone. He looked peaceful and contented, and she smiled at the sight. * * * J. Edgar Hoover building, Washington DC. 9.27am, 11th September 1996. Scully entered the X-files office a little ahead of her partner. Her face was set and impassive, and she moved with quiet determination. Mulder's expression was one of concern, and he watched his partner's every movement as he followed her into the basement room. He stood just inside the closed door as she went over to the four filing cabinets, and slotted a folder into the top drawer of the one closest to the door. They had just completed a particularly violent case, which had been traumatic enough before things started going wrong. It had involved a serial murderer who was attacking women in Washington. His psychosis drove him to kidnap women, tie them and beat them, then rape and finally kill them, leaving the naked bodies in the skips that filled the more squalid alleys in Washington DC. Eleven women, found naked, badly beaten, violently raped, with marks on wrists and ankles where they had been tied, in different skips where normal people left their household trash. The crimes had been horrific, and hard enough to deal with, without what had happened. Scully. Mulder felt a shiver run through him and an ache in his heart when he thought of what had happened, and what could have happened, to her. Scully had been the twelfth victim, kidnapped from the FBI car park when she went to fetch her car after a late night working on the case. Knocked unconsciouss before she could draw her gun. When he had discovered she'd gone missing, Mulder had thought he would go crazy. With a little stroke of good luck, and a lot of hard work, Mulder and the other agents who had been brought in on the case found the hide-out where the victims were being taken. - A dirty, empty apartment in a derelict building marked for demolition. Mulder had been the first into the apartment, quickly joined by Agents Kirren and Stanton, who disabled the murderer, Ellis Carneigh, while Mulder went to his partner. She had been crouched in the corner of the room, her eyes wide in shock, a gag in her mouth. Her hands were tied behind her, and her ankles tied together. There was a nasty gash across her forehead from when she had been knocked out, and cuts and bruises all over her body. It had taken Mulder a few moments to realise that she was naked. Then he fetched a blanket to cover her, while he removed the gag, and untied her hands and ankles. When she tried to stand, she was trembling so much she could hardly get to her feet, and when she put her weight on her right ankle, it gave way under her. Mulder had caught her before she collapsed, and had lifted her into his arms, carrying her outside to the waiting ambulance. Now, an elastic bandage around her twisted ankle, twelve stitches in the wound on her forehead, and dressed in a suit she had stopped by her house to pick up, she closed the top drawer of the filing cabinet, and stood for a moment just staring at it. She hadn't yet spoken of her ordeal, or given any sign other than her silence of how it was affecting her. Mulder, concerned, took three steps towards her. "Scully?" She lowered her head slightly. Facing away from him, her face was hidden, but he saw her shoulders quiver with a quiet sob. He stepped up behind her, and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned gratefully into his arms, and buried her face against his chest as the pain worked out of her. He stroked her hair gently, and held her close against him, as she let out the fears and pain that had been building up inside her. As her tears stopped flowing, and she brought her emotions under control, she lifted her head, and looked up at his face. Their eyes met, and something in their relationship changed. Their lips came together, and they knew their lives had entered a new phase. * * * J. Edgar Hoover building, Washington DC. 9.02am, 15th April 2000. The two Agent Mulders sat side by side in the outer office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner. "Little" Agent Mulder held a copy of the case-file in her hands, ready to be checked and signed by the Assistant Director. "Spooky" Agent Mulder didn't officially need to be present, but it was accepted and quietly expected that he always did attend these meetings. Skinner's secretary looked up from her desk. "Mr Skinner will see you now." she smiled. The two agents got up, and went into the inner office, with "Little" Mulder leading the way. Skinner's office was a long room, with windows at one end, where his desk and the door were, and a long oak conference table stretching down to the other end. The Assistant Director was sitting at his desk, with the sunlight coming through the venetian blinds at the windows falling on the back of his head. He looked up when they came in, and the corner of his mouth quirked up, which was about as close as he ever got to actually smiling. "Good morning, Agents." He gestured towards the two chairs in front of his desk, and they sat down. "Little" Mulder passed him the case-file she held. "The Hatton case, sir." "Thank you, "Little" Agent Mulder." The man's eyes sparkled, - he had always found their shared name amusing. - Just after the marriage, he had suggested using their first names so as not to cause confusion, but Dana Mulder had started laughing every time the serious ex-marine called her by her first name, and Fox Mulder had said grimly that he'd rather be called "Spooky" than "Fox" by his boss and colleagues. Thus throughout the Bureau they were now known as "Spooky" Agent Mulder, and "Little" Agent Mulder, and only at home were they Fox and Dana. Skinner skimmed through the folder, concentrating most of his attention on "Little" Mulder's personal field report. He nodded his approval, and looked up at the two agents. "So Hatton's been placed under suicide watch?" "Yes, sir." "Little" Mulder replied. "Do you suspect he will try to take his own life?" This question was directed at "Spooky" Mulder, who replied, "No, I don't believe so, sir. - Although his moods are highly volatile, all his anger is directed outwards, not in. He might cause himself accidental injury while venting his anger, but it would be involuntary." "Thank you, "Spooky" Agent Mulder." Skinner closed the file, and signed the cover sheet, before passing it back to the "official" agent involved in the case. "Will that be all, sir?" she asked. He nodded. "Yes, you can go." They got to their feet, relieved to be able to put the case behind them, and left the office. End of part 1. I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-Philes. Email me at . Danielle Culverson. From ghill52695@aol.com Mon Dec 09 09:29:54 1996 Here is the second part of "Woman," which I am forwarding to you for the author, Danielle Culverson (smythja@aston.ac.uk). She would appreciate any and all comments! Subj: Woman 2/3 Date: 96-12-09 07:21:50 EST From: smythja@aston.ac.uk (smythja) Reply-to: smythja@aston.ac.uk To: GHill52695@aol.com This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. Danielle Culverson. Part 2/3. * * * J. Edgar Hoover building, Washington DC. 2.35pm, 28th March 1997. Mulder and Scully looked at each other nervously as they waited for Skinner's secretary to tell them to go in. Then they dropped their eyes quickly, fearful that the change in their relationship would show just in the way they looked at each other. Mulder was standing near the windows, Scully sitting six feet away on one of the chairs. The intercom on the secretary's desk buzzed, and Mulder looked over and then quickly looked away again so as not to show his apprehension. The secretary spoke briefly over the intercom, and then looked up at the two agents. "Mr Skinner will see you now." she said. Scully got to her feet, and went into the inner office ahead of her partner. Mulder closed the door behind them. In the outer office, Skinner's secretary's eyes brightened with excitement, and she dialed one of her friends on a lower floor. "Ellen, it's me. You've heard the rumours about Agent Mulder and Agent Scully, right?... Well, I just had them up here, and I'm sure it's true. - You should have seen the way they were looking at each other! If those two aren't in love, I think I'll give up believing in the concept." She listened a moment, and then giggled, "Yes, it would!" She disconnected, and her eyes fell on her intercom. Could she get away with switching it on and listening to the conversation between the partners and the Assistant Director? In the inner office, Skinner left the two agents standing for a moment while he finished the memo he was writing. Then he pushed his work to one side, and looked up at them, a stern expression on his face. He, too, had heard the growing rumours, and he wasn't sure he liked what he heard... "Sit down, agents." he said tersely. They sat quickly, Scully smoothing her skirt over her knees before looking up at the Assistant Director. Skinner looked from one agent to the other, and thought he could see something different in their eyes, - some new hope... "I'll come right to the point." he began, "I've been hearing some rumours around the building, which I have strong reason to suspect may be true. - I'm hoping you can shed some light on the situation." He noted the guilty glance that passed between them. "What rumours, sir?" Scully asked calmly. "Rumours that you and Agent Mulder are involved in a... personal relationship outside your professional one." Scully swallowed, "Yes, sir." "Yes?" "Yes, we are. - But as you said, it is outside our professional relationship, and we are not allowing it to interfere with our work." "I know *that*, Agent Scully." Skinner replied, and took a deep breath, "But *you* know that personal relationships between working partners are strongly discouraged within the Bureau. Your department is already close to closure, as you well know. - This may well push the powers higher up to close the X-files for good." Scully lowered her head. Mulder spoke up. "Sir, surely there is some way that we can work around this." "Agent Mulder, my superiors will not allow you to carry on both personal and professional relationships. You will have to break up one or the other. - If there were another way..." "Perhaps there is." Scully spoke up, "If Mulder worked on the X-files, and I transferred to another section, but continued to aid him in his work..." "Agent Scully, you would almost certainly only find a position at Quantico, where you would be neither on hand, nor available to help Agent Mulder. Besides, the powers that be are wary of him working alone, which was why you were partnered originally." "Then what about if I moved back to VCU?" Mulder suggested, "I already do a lot of cases for them anyway. Scully and I could continue to use the basement office, and unofficially work together on the X-files." Skinner raised and eyebrow. "It has possibilities. - If you were to be given credit for all the cases I know you currently have a hand in, your workload could be kept light without reducing your case-completion results, thus giving you time to work with Agent Scully. - I'm not sure it will work, but it's certainly worth a try. - I don't want to break up a partnership that is otherwise doing very well. I suggest you put in for that transfer immediately, Agent Mulder." "Yes, sir." The meeting over, Mulder and Scully got to their feet, and left the office, hoping they hadn't just made a big mistake. * * * Fox and Dana's apartment, Annapolis, Maryland. 7.39pm, 15th April 2000. Dana watched Fox over the table as they ate dinner, enjoying knowing that he was hers to look at, that she didn't have to feel guilty when her eyes strayed towards him. He looked up and saw her gazing at him. He smiled, and she returned the expression. Fox reached over the table, took her right hand with his left, and squeezed it gently. She kicked off her low-heeled shoes, and reached under the table with her foot to stroke his leg. He grinned, and released her hand so that they could continue eating. Finishing the meal, they cleared the table together in a comfortable silence, taking the dirty plates and glasses into the kitchen. Fox stared at the amount of washing up with distaste. Dana came up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his back. "Let's not do that just yet." she said quietly. "No? What do you want to do?" "Let's go into the main room." Dana suggested, catching hold of Fox's right hand, and tugging him through the main room, and on into the bedroom. "This isn't the main room." he said, his eyes sparkling with interest and growing anticipation. Dana released his hand, and put her hands on her hips. "And which room would you say is *more* important, Fox Mulder?" "Well, if you put it like that..." Fox pushed the bedroom door closed, and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. Raising his right hand, he stroked her hair and the side of her face as she looked up at him, before lowering his head to hers, and pressing his lips against hers, briefly, gently. Dana wrapped her arms around her husband as he kissed her again, and slid them slowly up his back to his head, drawing him down to her for another kiss. Her lips parted beneath his, and she closed her eyes, enjoying what she was feeling. When they drew apart, she kept her hands clasped behind his back, and drew her head back to look up at him. What she saw in his eyes pleased her. - All the pain and sadness which had been there when they first moved into their personal relationship was gone. All she saw in his eyes now were faith, trust, happiness, and love. "Dana, what did I do to deserve you?" Fox whispered, "Before you, my life was filled with tragedy and torment, and now everything is going right." "I hope I'm more to you than a good luck charm." Dana smiled. Fox returned the smile. "Much, much more." he whispered, and kissed her again. When they parted she lifted her hands to the collar of his shirt, and started to undo the buttons. He copied her movements, undoing her blouse, and slipping it off her shoulders so that it fell to the floor. His hands slid down her back, and undid the zipper of her skirt. It fell around her ankles. Fox lowered his lips to Dana's again, and then, in a quick, graceful movement, he lifted her into his arms, with one arm under her knees, and one under her shoulders. She squealed, and put her arms around his neck. "Fox, put me down!" "Here?" He bent his knees suddenly so she dropped six inches, and she squealed again. He moved over to the double bed, and laid her down on it, her back against the pillows plumped up by the headboard so that she was half-sitting up. He kneeled on the bed at her side, and lovingly ran his fingers over her face, down to her neck, and along the curve of her shoulders. His hands traced lightly down her arms, and on to her legs, where he caught hold of her slip, and gently tugged it down. Then, working his way back up her body, he slid his hands up over her flat stomach, and to her bra, which he deftly removed. He kissed her lips again, and she pulled him close to her, rolling them over until he was lying on his back, and she was straddling his chest. Quickly removing his pants and boxers, and her own panty-hose and panties, she lay on top of him, their lips meeting again, enjoying the sensation of touching skin to skin. Her hands roamed over his bare body, as his explored hers, with the intimate knowledge they already shared. They rolled over again, and Dana felt excitement building in the pit of her stomach. Everywhere he touched her, her skin electrified. Every kiss, every caress, lifted her higher until she was desperate to go to the heights they had been to on countless previous occasions. "Please, Fox!" she pleaded, as his hands continued to tease and caress. And he understood. Lying in each other's arms afterwards, drifting in the pleasant haze of their love-making, they found no need to talk in order to communicate. This, at least, was one time Dana could believe in "telepathy". She lay against the side of Fox's body as he absently stroked her skin with one hand, her body following the curves of his. She gazed contentedly at the peaceful expression on his face, and allowed herself to smile, and drift into sleep. * * * J. Edgar Hoover building, Washington DC. 2.04pm, 16th April 2000. "Little" Mulder sat at her desk in the silent basement office of the J. Edgar Hoover building, working on pathology reports for the autopsies she had carried out that morning. She worked quickly and efficiently, barely noticing the time pass around her. It was the end of the lunch-time break. "Little" Mulder had not left her desk this lunch-time, preferring to keep at her work, and eat the pre-packed sandwiches she had brought with her. "Spooky" Mulder had gone out to lunch at his favourite diner. He had tried to persuade her to go as well, but she'd refused. The phone on her desk rang. ""Little" Mulder." she listened to the caller, "Oh, okay, yes... You did?... And what happened?... Right. - Yes, I understand..." The phone on "Spooky" Mulder's desk rang. "... Hold on a moment, would you? - There's someone on the other line." "Little" Mulder rested the receiver of her phone on her desk, scooted her wheeled swivel chair over to the other desk, and rooted under the mess to find the phone. She picked it up. "Hello, "Spooky" Mulder's desk." She listened, "Oh, hi Stanton, - yes, it is... Yes, I'll tell him to call you as soon as he gets back from lunch." She put the phone down, and returned to her own call. "Hi... Yes, I've got the number here somewhere, umm, - 555-6042... Okay?... Yeah, sure. - Bye." She put the phone down, and glanced at her watch. - "Spooky" should be back by now. Twenty minutes later "Spooky" Mulder entered the basement office. "Little" Mulder looked up at him with a slight frown. "Good lunch?" "So-so." He wouldn't meet her gaze as he crossed the room and slumped into his chair. "Agent Stanton called. - He wanted you to call him when you got back." "Sure. - Thanks." He dug under his papers, and frowned, "Did you move something?" "I had to, to reach the phone." she smiled. - He always knew where everything was under all that mess. Probably had something to do with having a photographic memory... "Kirren? Is Stanton there?... Hi, Stanton. It's "Spooky" Mulder. "Little" Mulder said you called?... Oh, right... Yeah, I did... Thanks. - Bye." He hung up, pulled a case-folder from his "In" tray, and set to work. * * * Fox and Dana's apartment, Annapolis, Maryland. 1.54am, 17th April 2000. Fox turned over in bed for the fifth time. Dana kept still, knowing he thought she was already asleep, and would feel guilty if he thought he had woken her. - But she couldn't sleep, not with him like this. Fox had been restless all evening, after throwing himself into his work as though to escape something all afternoon. Dana had prodded gently to try and find out what was bothering him, but he wouldn't answer her questions. Or rather, he did, but with answers she felt didn't tell the whole truth. She took shallow, quiet breaths as she lay still on her side of the bed. Fox's insomnia had been something which had disappeared along with the pain in his eyes during the first few months after their marriage. Although he was still as apt to fall asleep on the couch as in bed, he did sleep every night. Or at least he had done, until now. What could be bothering him so much all of a sudden that it stopped his sleep? What was it that stopped him from meeting her gaze? Dana lay quietly, hoping that he would either find himself able to talk to her about it, or get over it, soon. The time passed slowly, and eventually Fox fell asleep. But now Dana couldn't. - She was worried about whatever was worrying her husband. What could be wrong, that he couldn't talk to her about it? She turned over carefully so as not to disturb him, and finally drifted into sleep. Dana awoke in the morning to find Fox's side of the bed empty. She turned her head to see the time on the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. - 6.31am. - Had Fox gone out for his morning jog already? She was getting more than slightly concerned now. Fox only went out early jogging when he needed to think about something, and as they weren't on a case at the moment... Dana cut off the thought. - If when she asked him, he said there was nothing wrong, there was nothing wrong. Maybe he was just not feeling too good lately. That thought raised a new fear. What if he was ill? - Well, no point in worrying about it yet. She would just have to see what happened next. * * * Fox and Dana's apartment, Annapolis, Maryland. 8.27pm, 17th April 2000. Fox and Dana sat side by side on the couch, watching the t.v. They had come home from the office quite early, all their work being complete, and so it wasn't yet late, although they had eaten dinner and washed up all the dishes. The sitcom they were currently watching finished, and Fox got to his feet, and headed into the hall. Dana frowned slightly, puzzled, and called after him. "Fox? What are you doing?" "I'm just popping out for half an hour." came the reply. Dana got to her feet, and went to the hall-way. "Aren't you staying to watch the film? I thought you were looking forward to "The Second Chapter"?" she asked, confused. "Umm... I'll be back before the first commercial break." He looked up at her, and grinned. She saw his eyes sparkling in that peculiar "Spooky" way they did so often what they worked on something he was really enjoying. "Love you." he said, and headed out of the door. Dana went back into the main room to watch him leave through the windows. She blew him a kiss as he drove away, but he didn't see it. Dana turned away from the window, and sat down in the nearest armchair. There was a magazine on the chair, which she picked up before she sat. Her eyes fell on one of the story titles, and it caught her attention. "Drama in Real Life:- "He told me he loved me, and then went out to see his other woman."" Dana frowned slightly, not even letting the doubt in her subconsciouss surface into her consciouss thoughts. She turned to the article in question, and began reading it. The more she read, the more the doubt in the back of her mind grew. - The woman who's story it was had been thirty-one, and two and a half years married when her husband started having an affair with a woman he met in a bar one night. For weeks he left the house early, came home late, and she accepted his story of doing overtime at work. Then he started going out at the weekends as well, "with his mates". When one of the mates in question came around on such a weekend to visit, the woman finally realised that something was going on behind her back. After confronting her husband, he ended the affair, but ultimately their marriage collapsed from the strain. Dana closed the magazine, and just stared at the front cover for a long time. Surely Fox would never...? No, of course not. She put the magazine in the waste paper basket, and moved to the couch to watch the t.v., and take her mind off her wandering thoughts. End of part 2. I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-Philes. Email me at . Danielle Culverson From ghill52695@aol.com Mon Dec 09 09:32:53 1996 And here's the last of "Woman" which I'm forwarding to you for the author, Danielle Culverson (smythja@aston.ac.uk). Please send your comments to her, as she would love to hear from you! Subj: Woman 3/3 Date: 96-12-09 07:24:58 EST From: smythja@aston.ac.uk (smythja) Reply-to: smythja@aston.ac.uk To: GHill52695@aol.com This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. Danielle Culverson. Part 3/3. * * * Fox and Dana's apartment, Annapolis, Maryland. 3.15am, 18th April 2000. Dana turned over in her sleep, fighting the force that was trying to awaken her. She tried to ignore the proddings of her mind as she approached wakefulness, but finally consciousness returned, and shortly afterwards, an awareness of her surroundings. Fox. That was what had woken her. Fox was talking and moaning in his sleep. That was something else he hadn't done for a long time. She leaned close, and whispered his name in his ear. "Fox." "Umm..." he sighed, and turned his head towards her, still locked in sleep. His next comprehensible word shocked her. "Jillian?" Dana froze, wondering if she had heard right. - But she couldn't deny it. - Part of her mind was clamouring that there must be a sensible reason for it, but what that reason might be, she couldn't fathom. Did they know any Jillians? She didn't think so, and she *had* thought she knew all of Fox's friends. Dana got out of bed slowly, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep again. She put on her blue robe, went out into the back garden, and sat on one of the garden chairs. The air was cool, but there was hardly any breeze so she didn't feel too cold as she sat, still and silent, trying to approach what was happening logically. She really didn't know anything was going on. Fox had just taken a long lunch one day, returned to his bad dreams and insomnia, gone out one evening, and spoken a name in his sleep. - It didn't mean anything. Did it? Dana hated herself for losing her trust in Fox. - He would never hurt her by having an affair. He loved her too much. Yeah, and that was what the woman in the magazine article had believed as well, until she got proof that it wasn't so. Dana let her head fall back, and looked up at the stars in the clear night sky. Fox had always found his answers under the stars in the cold, she thought. She only found more questions and confusion. Dana pondered returning to bed, but knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. - A part of her was also afraid Fox might mutter something worse than "Jillian", and if he did, she didn't want to hear it. She considered going to watch t.v., and maybe falling asleep on the couch, but she was afraid the noise would wake Fox, now that he wasn't sleeping so well. So, she settled for staying outside, studying the constellations above her until her neck ached, and she had to lower her head. At some time not long before the sky greyed with oncoming dawn, she fell asleep. * * * J. Edgar Hoover building, Washington DC. 12.19pm, 18th April 2000. "I'm going for lunch, do you want me to fetch you anything?" "Spooky" Mulder's voice startled "Little" Mulder out of her over-tired daydream. Her neck ached from sleeping in the cold outside, and she was very tired from the night. - She'd hardly done any work all morning. - She looked up at her husband in confusion. "Huh?" "I said, I'm going to lunch, do you want me to fetch you anything?" he repeated. She shook her head. "No, it's alright. - I've got sandwiches in my briefcase." "Okay. - See you later." He headed out of the door. As soon as it closed behind him, "Little" Mulder got to her feet, and grabbed her handbag and overcoat. She set off to follow him, feeling guilty for her doubts and lack of trust. "Little" Mulder followed "Spooky" out of FBI headquarters, and along 10th Street to Constitution Avenue. He walked towards Constitution Gardens. She followed carefully as the buildings fell away, and saw her husband approach the Washington Monument. Taking a different path through the gardens, "Little" Mulder watched her husband out of the corner of her eye as he reached the monument, and met a woman who had apparently been waiting for him. She was pretty, with curly dark hair to her shoulder blades. She was about the same age as "Little" Mulder, and certainly a few years younger than "Spooky". Seeing the couple move off along a path towards the Reflecting Pool, "Little" Mulder crossed to a path leading to the monument, and watched them move away. They sat down on one of the benches along the path, and even from that distance she could see that they were talking animatedly, and laughing. Something in her chest started to ache as she watched them, and tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. She walked away slowly, trying to persuade herself that there must be a good reason why "Spooky" hadn't told her he was meeting this woman, who she assumed was "Jillian". - Because if there wasn't a good reason, what did that mean for their marriage? * * * J. Edgar Hoover building, Washington DC. 11.45am, 19th April 2000. "Little" Agent Mulder worked hard on her cases the next morning, fighting the constant urge for her mind to roam towards what she had seen the previous day. Even so, her eyes repeatedly strayed across the room to her husband, who seemed to be lost in thought most of the time. At 11.45am, when she was at the filing cabinets checking one of the old files for some information, "Spooky" got to his feet, and came over to her. "I'm going for lunch. - Do you want me to fetch you anything?" he asked. She span around on her heel, put a hand behind his head, and kissed him, hard. His eyes widened in surprise, and she deepened the kiss, pressing against him. He took hold of her wrists, and disengaged himself from her half-embrace, a quizzical look in his eyes. "I thought you said no fraternising at work?" he asked with an impish smile, "So, do you want me to fetch you anything while I'm out?" "No, it's alright." She turned away from him, back to the filing cabinet, to hide the tears which had suddenly sprung to her eyes. "See you later." he said cheerily, oblivious to her pain, and went out of the door. As she had the day before, "Little" Mulder hurriedly picked up her handbag and coat, and followed him. He took the same route he had the previous day, and again "Jillian" was waiting for him at the foot of the Washington Monument. She bit her tongue to keep from crying as she watched them talk, gesturing this way and that. Finally they set off, heading back amongst the buildings. "Little" Mulder followed at a distance, and finally saw them enter a diner her husband frequented often. They took a window booth, and she could see them through the glass, laughing and chattering. "Little" Mulder stood on the opposite side of the road, slightly behind her husband's position so that he wouldn't see her watching them. Her thoughts ran in circles, angry and tormented. - She had truly believed that he loved her, and would never forsake her. Even while watching the couple beginning their meal, she found it difficult to believe that he was having an affair. Tears ran down her face, but the busy passers-by of the Washington street had little time to notice the petite woman standing at the side of the road, her eyes fixed on the windows of the diner as her tears fell. No-one looked twice at her. As the couple in the window finished their meal, and drank their coffee, "Little" Mulder finally moved away. She wandered slowly back to FBI headquarters, but standing outside the building she suddenly realised she couldn't face another afternoon working in the same room as her husband without knowing what was going on, and the basement office wasn't the right place for a marital disagreement. She turned and went to the FBI car park, walking slowly up the levels to the second storey, where the car she and "Spooky" used was parked. - He would have to get a lift, or a taxi-cab, but that wasn't her fault. She got into the car, and drove slowly out of the car park, her eyes dry and staring now. She headed home. * * * Fox and Dana's apartment, Annapolis, Maryland. 3.49pm, 19th April 2000. A car outside, pulling up at the sidewalk. The bang of a car door. The car moving off again with a roar. The rattle of a key in the front door of the house. The creak of the door opening, and then closing. "Dana?" Fox's voice, in the hall-way. "Dana?" He sounded concerned. She didn't move from where she was sitting, in an armchair in the main room. She heard him come into the room, a sigh of relief on his lips, but she didn't turn around to look at him. "Dana, why did you come home? - I've been worried." He looked into her eyes, and saw that something was wrong. Kneeling down in front of her, he looked up at her lowered face. "What's wrong?" Finally her eyes focused on him, and fixed him with an icy stare. "Jillian. Who is she?" The words were quiet, and flat. Something in Fox's eyes changed, and he looked down guiltily, his shoulders drooping. Dana watched his reaction, and couldn't hold back the tears that were fighting to spill from her eyes. Her lips quivered as the tears fell, and she repeated her question, this time in a voice that cracked with sorrow. "Who *is* she?" Fox looked up at her with sudden understanding. "It's not what you think, Dana." "No? Then what is it? What's going on between you?" she demanded. He swallowed. "I should have told you, but... I don't really know why I didn't." he looked up at her, "Her name is Jillian Randle, and I met her at the diner where I went for lunch three days ago. I sat near her out of curiosity, and overheard her talking with some friends. From what I heard, my initial suspicions on seeing her were increased, and so I stopped her after her meal, and we got talking." "I noticed. - You seem to do a lot of talking." Dana said bitterly. Fox winced. "Please, Dana, I'm trying to explain." "So what was it about her appearance that aroused your curiosity?" she asked sharply. He took a deep breath, and then replied, "She looks like Samantha." Dana stared at him, her tears still wet on her face. Most of her anger fell away in her surprise. Then the surprise turned back to bitterness. "Samantha disappeared nearly twenty-six years ago. How can you know what she will look like now?" "She looks like the clones the bounty hunter killed." Dana frowned. She hadn't been close enough to get a good look at Jillian herself. Fox reached to touch her hand. "I'm sorry, Dana, I really am. - Look, I'll phone Jillian, and we can go and meet her for coffee. You can talk to her yourself, and see that nothing has been happening between us. - Of course, I haven't told her yet about Samantha. I didn't want to prejudice any memories she might regain." "Regain?" "She was found at the side of a road at about age ten, with amnesia." Fox explained, "That's the other reason I thought it might be her." He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket, and switched it on. He dialed quickly. "Hello? - Is Jillian there?... Hi, Jillian, it's "Spooky". I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the diner where we had lunch?... Okay, what time?... That's great. See you there." He disconnected. "You asked her to call you "Spooky"?" Dana asked. "Would you rather she called me Fox?" he countered, "All of my colleagues call me "Spooky" now. I'm used to it. - Come on, let's go." * * * "Phil's Food-house", Washington DC. 4.50pm, 19th April 2000. Half an hour later they arrived at the diner where Dana had seen Fox eating with Jillian earlier that day. It was quite busy inside, but looking around Fox spotted Jillian at one of the booths. He waved to her, and went over, letting Dana slide in before sitting next to her. "Jillian, I'd like you to meet my wife, Dana." Fox introduced the two women. Jillian smiled and nodded to Dana, who managed a bare nod in return. "So, "Spooky", what's the big desperation to talk to me?" Jillian asked. From this proximity, Dana could see that she did indeed have a very close resemblance to the Samantha-clones she and Fox and encountered several years ago. Fox swallowed, "Umm... I'm afraid my actions lately have given Dana cause to believe that I'm having an affair with you..." Jillian's mouth dropped open in genuine surprise, "... and I wanted to set things straight." Jillian turned to Dana with an expression of concern and understanding in her eyes, "There's nothing going on between "Spooky" and I, Dana. I'm happily married myself." She held out her left hand for Dana to see the ring, "We've just chatted over lunch a couple of times." "Umm..." Fox took a deep breath, "I'm afraid I haven't been exactly straight with you either, Jillian. There's a reason why I originally stopped you and started talking to you. Could you give Dana a quick overview of you life, so she knows I've given her the real reason?" "What? I don't understand." Jillian looked in confusion from Fox to Dana and back again. "Please?" Fox asked. "Okay, er... I don't remember anything of my life until I was about ten, when I woke up in a hospital. They said I'd been found at the roadside, and wanted to know how I'd got there, but I couldn't remember anything about my past, and still can't. I was adopted, and..." Jillian stopped when she saw that Dana was crying. Tears of relief were running down her face. Fox put his arm around her as she let her emotions out, and she leaned gratefully against him. "Thanks, Jillian. - That's all she needed to hear." Fox smiled. Dana took a tissue from her handbag, and wiped her eyes, smiling embarrassedly at Jillian. "I'm sorry, it's just... the relief, you know?" Jillian nodded, "But what does that have to do with anything? - My not being able to remember anything before the age of ten?" Fox opened his mouth to answer, but his emotions choked off his voice, and he couldn't speak. Dana answered for him. "Fox had a sister who went missing nearly twenty-six years ago, when she was nine years old. He's been searching for her all his life. He knows what she looked like four and a half years ago. - and you look like her. - Plus you have no memory of your childhood..." "You think I'm your sister?" Jillian asked Fox, who nodded dumbly. Dana turned to her husband. "Fox, is there something about Samantha's appearance that could prove or disprove this? - A birthmark, a scar, or something?" Fox looked up hopefully, and quickly thought back. "Yes, Samantha had a large strawberry-shaped birthmark on the top of her right arm..." Jillian pushed her blouse sleeve up her arm, and held it out for Fox to see. - There was no mark, and something in his face fell. "And she had a scar on the side of her right leg, where she cut herself on a nail when we were playing out..." Jillian put her right leg forward at the side of the table. - Even through her stockings it was obvious that there was no scar there. Fox's expression wilted, and he sat back in his seat. "Thank you, Jillian." he said quietly, "I guess that's solved all our problems." Jillian got to her feet and started to walk away, but then turned back, "I'm sorry I'm not your sister." she said. Then she turned and left. "I'm sorry, too." Dana told him, "About her, and about what I thought." She wouldn't meet his eyes, but he lifted her chin with his fingers until she had to. "I'm sorry you had to go through this. - I should have told you." he said. Then he kissed her gently on the lips, and she returned it. "Shall we go home now?" she smiled weakly, and he smiled back. "Whatever you want." The End. I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-Philes. Email me at . Danielle Culverson