First Time for Everything by Eddie Edora a.k.a. XFManic
Disclaimer: "The X-Files" and the characters of Mulder and Scully are
not mine. They belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen and Fox Television.
I'm just borrowing them for the fun of it. No copyright infringement
intended.
Category: S, A
Rating: PG
Author's Note: There are references to "Herrenvolk" as well as other
episodes. Lots of M/S angst as well as some UST.
Summary: Scully asks Mulder out on an actual date, but it doesn't turn
out as planned, especially since Mulder has a lead on his sister...
**********************
Mulder's Apartment
March 9
4:35 p.m.
Fox Mulder was starting to get pissed off at his TV. For the
first weekend in a long while, he wasn't out of town on a case. For the
first time since the season started, he could enjoy a Knicks game and on
a *clear* channel. For the first time in a long while, he could
just.....relax! Yet, he wasn't enjoying himself.
The phone rang. "Mulder," he answered.
"Hi, Mulder, it's me," came the familiar reply from his pretty
red-headed partner, Dana Scully.
A smile slowly formed on his face. "Hey, Scully," he replied.
"What do I owe the pleasure of this phone call? Were there aliens trying
to sell you some cookies?" He heard her chuckle.
"No, Mulder. I didn't know that I had to have a reason to call."
"Of course not," he said. "I'd rather talk to you than watch the
rest of the Knicks game." He turned off the TV and disgustedly tossed
the remote control on the coffee table.
"I saw some of the game earlier, Mulder," Scully commented. "I
guess the Bulls haven't finished stampeding through the league yet.
Sorry...."
"Don't worry about it," he assured her. "So what's up?"
"Well...," she hesitated. "I was wondering if you would be
interested in....going out to eat."
Mulder looked at the clock. <4:38> "Sure," he replied, "but it's
kind of early. I'm not really hungry enough to eat dinner. Maybe
later? But if you want company, I'll tag along."
Silence.
"Scully?"
"I'm still here, Mulder," she answered. "Um...I was just trying
to contemplate how to ask you out without a Ôred flag' coming up."
Mulder took a second to fully realize what Scully just told him.
"Scully...," he began, "are you asking me out...," he hesitated, because
the last three words were difficult to say out loud, "....on a date?"
Again, silence engulfed the line between them.
"Um...would you, um...," Scully floundered out a response, "would
you make too much of it if I said Ôyes'?"
There was silence again, and Scully heard a big, long "gulp."
"Uh...n,n,no," Mulder stammered in an almost squeaky voice.
A smile formed on Scully's face. Somehow, she thought, I don't
think you're telling me the truth. "You're not feeling uncomfortable,
*are you*, Agent Mulder?" she teasingly asked.
He felt a flush start to rise from his neck, and his palms became
sweaty. "Where, uh, where did you have in mind?" Mulder asked.
"Oh, I thought maybe the Parthenon at 7," she answered.
Mulder whistled his amazement. "The Parthenon?" he asked
incredulously. "I heard that place has a four month waiting list. How in
the world did you get reservations at such short notice?"
Scully smiled to herself. I guess he's impressed, she thought.
"Well, I was lucky enough to go to school with the owner's
daughter. Let's just say that she owed me a favor."
I'll say, Scully thought. She went on *my* blind date in college
to a man who's now her husband. Some people have all the luck!
"Really?" Mulder asked amazed at her partner's connections. "I'd
like to know the details of that favor."
"Maybe another time, Mulder," Scully hastilly avoided the probe.
"So, are you game for tonight?"
Mulder stared at the blank screen of the TV while contemplating
such a monumental decision.
"Are we going dutch?"
*************************
5:45 p.m.
Mulder nervously primped in front of his mirror. He wasn't sure
if wearing the dark brown Armani suit was pushing it. After all, Mulder
was never one for high fashion. Why else did everyone make fun of his
loud ties? He only bought the suit for formal F.B.I. functions sans
black tie affairs.
He looked at the clock and realized that he had barely 15 minutes
to pick up Scully at her apartment. Since the restaurant was a good 35
minute drive on the other side of town, he wanted to make sure that they
got there in plenty of time for their reservation.
At any other time, it would not be such a big deal, but Mulder
became more nervous as each second passed. After all, he thought, it's
not every day that a pretty woman asks you out. And there's certainly
none as pretty as Dana Scully. He smiled to himself at that last thought.
A knock at the door interrupted his musings. Now who could that
be, he wondered.....
*********************
Scully's Apartment
5:51 p.m.
Scully looked in the mirror at her hair for the fifth time in as
many minutes. She decided to put her hair up from the usual daily
business-like demeanor. A lone strand of red hair provocatively framed
her face. On most accounts, it would make any man notice, but Mulder,
she reminded herself, isn't just *any* man, she mischievously thought
with a grin.
Her phone rang. "Scully," she answered.
"Hey Scully, it's me," Mulder said with just a hint of disappointment.
Scully sensed something wrong. She tried to jokingly coax it out
of him. "What is it, Mulder? Did you get lost on the way to my place?"
She heard him cover the receiver and through the muffled sounds
heard....a female voice?
"I'm sorry, Scully," Mulder returned on the line.
"Something...came up that needs my attention. Is there any way I can get
a raincheck?"
Scully's heart dropped like a fallen anvil. She wasn't sure how
to respond. "Um...I guess...uh, sure," she stammered out.
"Scully?"
"...Sure Mulder. Do what you have to do," Scully answered back.
Yet, she couldn't disguise the hurt in her voice.
"I'm really sorry, Scully," Mulder said. He tried to make her
realize that it wasn't her, but he failed miserably. "I'll see you
tomorrow at work?"
"Sure," Scully weakly replied. She heard the muffled voices
again and distinctly heard a feminine voice.
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye!"
Scully looked at her phone. "Bye," she whispered.
A few minutes passed with the phone still clutched in her hand.
A flood of emotions came to her like a torrential storm: anger,
disappointment, confusion, sorrow, resentment. They all came and went as
one emotion stood out from all the rest: concern. Whatever "came up" as
Mulder put it, he shut her out *again*. That definitely was a cause of
concern.
She wanted to know what made Mulder abruptly change their plans.
It had ominous overtones, which made her stomach churn. She finally put
the phone down and headed to her closet. I might as well change my
clothes, she thought.
The closet door had the full-length mirror that she was staring
at just minutes earlier. Her reflection caught her eye and also revealed
her disappointment. She stared at herself and saw a lone tear slowly
falling down her face. She started crying.
"Oh, Mulder....," she whispered.
**************************
Mulder's Apartment
6:10 p.m.
The blonde woman stood in Mulder's living room. She was not
prepared for Mulder to be dressed up to go out...on a date? From the
surveillance files she's read, he was depicted as a loner and
*definitely* not inclined to socialize.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mulder," she began. "I didn't realize that you
would have other plans."
Mulder looked up at Marita Covarubbius. He had basically phased
out everything after hearing the disappointment in Scully's voice. It
was the first time she had ever brought up a personal rather than a
professional liason between them. After he hastily hung up on her, it
might have very well been the last time.
The blonde wasn't sure what to do. Mulder looked very hurt, and
when he looked up at her, she felt as though he was blaming her.
"Mr. Mulder," she finally said, "I wouldn't have bothered you if this
wasn't important, especially concerning your sister."
He nodded. "Ms. Covarubbius," he replied. "There are *many*
things you don't know about me, but finding my sister was never a hidden
agenda. What do you know?"
She nodded in return. There's much more to you, Mr. Mulder, than
I could even possibly imagine, she thought.
"From my contacts," she began, "I've been informed of a possible
connection between that farm colony of clones you first approached me
about and the whereabouts of your sister."
Mulder could feel his pulse increasing. This sounds too good to
be true, he thought.
"What kind of connection?" he cautiously asked.
"The colony you apparently stumbled upon," she continued, " was
one of many that used genetic cloning. Consequently, many of the clones
have been identified as children who were kidnapped or abducted at a very
young age. Your sister, of course, was one of them."
Mulder started to grow impatient. "So where is my sister," he demanded.
The woman was taken aback by Mulder's assertiveness but
continued, "Your sister's actual whereabouts are unknown as of yet.
However, reports of a similar colony near Niles, Michigan have turned up
evidence of abducted children. It appears that your sister may have been
there within the past year." She took out a copy of a report from her
briefcase and handed it to him.
Mulder took it from her and started scanning the pages.
"I hope this helps you in your quest, Mr. Mulder," she said while
heading toward the door.
He looked up from the report. "Why are you helping me?" he asked.
She smiled at him. "Let's just say that I'm fulfilling a promise
to an old friend," she replied, turned and walked out the door.
Mulder mulled over what she said but quickly went back to the
report. After a few minutes, he picked up the phone and dialed....
"Lone Gunmen," came the familiar answer.
"Langly, it's Mulder. I need you guys to check something out for me."
******************************
J. Edgar Hoover Building
March 10
8:21 a.m.
Scully absent-mindedly stirred her coffee and watched the dark
liquid swirling around in her mug. As usual, there were piles of reports
on her desk screaming for her attention, but none was forthcoming.
Stifling yet another yawn, it didn't help that she lacked a restful sleep
last night.
She looked at her watch. <8:23> Where the hell is Mulder? He
knew as well as her that they had an 8:30 meeting with Skinner. It just
didn't seem like him to not even call about his whereabouts. She picked
up the phone and dialed his number. After the first ring, his answering
machine came on.
"This is Fox Mulder. Please leave a message."
"Mulder," she began after hearing the beep, " are you alright?
Did you get up yet? We have a meeting with Skinner in five minutes. I
hope you're on your way here, because I have no idea what the hell to
tell him if you're not. Don't do anything stupid, Mulder."
She hung up the phone and started to gather her notes when the
phone rang. "Did you finally get your ass out of bed," she blurted out
upon picking it up.
"Agent Scully?" asked Assistant Director Skinner.
"Sir!" Scully said as she suddenly felt very hot in her blazer.
"I'm so sorry, sir. I thought it would be..uh..someone else."
"Would that be Agent Mulder?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir. I left a message for him. It's possible that Agent
Mulder was up late last night working."
"Don't worry about it, Scully," Skinner said. "Agent Mulder
called me about ten minutes ago requesting a couple of days emergency
leave. His mother had taken ill."
Scully's eyebrows shot up. That could explain his behavior last
night, she thought. "Did she have another stroke?" she asked.
"He didn't leave any details," Skinner replied, "but I assume it
was serious enough for him to ask for the request. I told him he could
take as long as needed."
Why didn't he tell me last night, Scully thought. That just
doesn't sound right.
"We'll reschedule the meeting after Agent Mulder returns,"
Skinner finished.
"Thank you, sir."
As she hung up the phone, she looked at Mulder's "I Want to
Believe" poster behind his desk. "Mulder," she said out loud, "you *are*
doing something stupid again, aren't you?"
****************************
Unmarked Field near Niles, Michigan
3:20 p.m.
Mulder stopped to get his canteen out of his backpack. He had
been hiking for over two hours since leaving his rental car just beyond
the trail he was on. Relying on his photographic memory, the compound
was approximately 10 miles deep into the woods outside of Niles.
He had Langly check to see if there were any reported sightings
of UFO's in the area within the past year. He wasn't surprised to find
out that over 100 reports were filed in that timeframe with local law
enforcement as well as NICAP and Skywatch groups. It was "raining UFO's
up there" as Langley put it.
Mulder regretted having to lie to Skinner about a family
emergency to check out this latest Samantha clue. With each passing day,
he has more respect and admiration for the Assistant Director. There
have been numerous times in the past couple of years where he could have
easily been booted out of the F.B.I. Heck, he thought to himself, I even
tried to resign, and he wouldn't let me. It just didn't seem right to
gain your superior's trust only to have to lie.
And what about Scully? God, he thought, I can just imagine her
rolling over and over last night wondering what happened. I don't think
there would be a female in the world who would ever blame her for
shooting me the first chance she got.....
***************************
J. Edgar Hoover Building
3:30 p.m.
Scully hung up the phone. I am going to *kill* him, she
thought. He did it to me again! She had just finished a rather
pleasant conversation with Mulder's mother, who did not sound remotely
ill or otherwise. In fact, she hadn't hear from her son since
Christmas.
Scully started pacing the room as millions of thoughts were
racing in her head. Who in the hell does he think he is? I finally
decide to take a chance and see what could happen between us, and what
does he do? He *#!@$% chickens out *and* abandons me! And that woman!
Who the hell was that? I should find out who she is and kill her, too!
Her phone rang. "Scully," she blurted out.
"Oh, hi, Agent Scully, Frohike here. Is your partner around?"
"No," she said while arching her brow. "Why?"
"He called last night wanting us to check out a few things," he
answered.
"Check out a few things?" Scully asked.
"Yeah," Frohike continued, "one of them dealt with a sample of
fiber that he wanted aged."
Aged? she thought. Why in the world wouldn't he just use
Pendrell and his labs?
"Well?" she asked. "What did you find out?"
"His suspicions were correct," Frohike replied. "The fiber is
over 20 years old and contained something else that he didn't mention."
Scully grew impatient. "What?"
"A very tiny amount of dried blood. B-positive to be exact."
"Was that all?"
"For the fiber, yes. He also wanted us to match a fragmented
thumbprint found on a sliver of metal. It turns out to be an adult print
of one Samantha Mulder."
******************************
Niles, Michigan
6:30 p.m.
Mulder finally made his way though the dense forest. It had
taken him much longer than he expected, since the trail ended almost five
miles back. He had to trust a Northwestern direction from his compass,
but he found the compound. Daylight was almost out as he found an area
to survey the buildings up ahead.
Taking out his night vision binoculars that he borrowed from
Frohike, he slowly scanned the area. There were small wooden buildings
very similar to the compound he saw in Canada. There were no lights or
movement as far as he could tell. From the reports, the compound was
supposedly abandoned less than a month ago. Yet, Mulder observed decay
and abnormally high growth of vegetation inconsistent with a month's
neglect. Of course, he thought, they just might have never trimmed the
hedges.
Mulder knew the chances of finding any new information on the
whereabouts of his sister was very slim. But his instincts kept him from
just ignoring the area. After all, the whole reason for wanting to open
the X-Files was to have the means to search for Samantha. His earlier
experience with the clone compound was not successful, and he wanted to
know what happened to all those clones and their donors, namely Samantha.
Walking into each building, Mulder didn't see anything worth
investigating. They were all abandoned without any evidence of having
ever been occupied. He kept walking down the row of houses, when he
heard a distinct hum. At first, Mulder thought it was just a loud group
of locusts, but the sound persisted and started to get even louder as he
got closer to the other side of the compound.
There were rows of trees blocking any kind of view from the last
building, but the sound seemed to be originating from beyond that area.
Mulder instintively took out his Glock. As he weaved his way through the
trees, the hum became ear-shattering. Mulder tried to focus on the
light, which he suspected was the source of the noise.
Mulder stopped to get out the from his backpack. He knew from
past experience that having a camera wasn't any guarantee of acquiring
proof of the truth. Yet, he wanted something tangible to prove to anyone
of the existence of his sister or...whatever produced the source of the
light. He wasn't thinking it might be extra-terrestrial...not yet.
Wouldn't Scully just love that, he amusingly thought.
As the humming got louder, the light became so intense that
Mulder couldn't see in front of him without shielding his eyes. It
didn't matter. Before he knew it, the humming became a concentrated high
shrill that almost ruptured his ear drums. Mulder fell to his knees
while trying to block the noise with his hands. He saw three silouettes
appear directly in front of him. One figure resembled a female, which
was the last image Mulder remembered as he fell to the ground unconscious.
*******************************
Scully's Apartment
March 10
8:35 p.m.
Scully surveyed the reports that Frohike dropped off to her. She
was curious as to how Mulder ended up with these samples and from what
source. Trying to supress the uneasiness of the whole situation, Scully
went about logging into her personal journal about her own findings:
"...though the credibility of the source from whom Mulder received these
samples is still a question of concern in my mind, it appears that the
conclusions brought to light by The Lone Gunmen are correct.
The fiber and blood samples match with the known data about Mulder's
sister, Samantha. The fiber's age, though brittle, is ascertained as
being from the specified time-frame precipitating Samantha's abduction.
Both Mulder and Samantha have blood-type B-positive. Hence, just from
preliminary conjecture, the samples would preclude a match for Mulder's
sister.
But the one piece of evidence that cannot be ignored, especially by this
investigator, is the fragmented thumb print. Though almost one-third of
the print is smudged, there is enough to do a cross-reference match.
Our own F.B.I. computers have given it a 99.5% probability that the print
is indeed Samantha Mulder's.
Given the fact that the print appears to have been recent, possibly
within the last six months, it is fair to assume that Samantha is very
much alive though her whereabouts are still unknown."
Scully felt a little uneasy about writing the last part. She
knew that no other conclusions would manifest itself from these samples.
If Samantha was still alive, then Mulder must be searching for her. What
worried Scully is whether Mulder has been set up and just walked into a
trap. She remembered her earlier conversation with Frohike:
"So Agent Scully," he said. "Do you think you can prove us wrong?"
"That's not why I asked to look at them, Frohike," she answered, " I just
want to know if Mulder is following another wild goose chase."
"He isn't," Frohike assured her. "Didn't Mulder fill you in about this?"
"Does he ever?"
Frohike looked at her and was about to say something but thought better
of it.
Scully noticed his hesitation. "Do you know something about Mulder's
whereabouts?" His silence confirmed her suspicions. "Out with it,
Frohike," she demanded.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Scully. Obviously, Mulder had his
reasons for not saying anything to you. The less you know the better."
Scully eyed the little man. "Perhaps, you're right," she finally said.
I'll just use my own way of finding him, she thought to herself
as the conversation with Frohike slowly faded from her memory. Scully
picked up her phone. I hope my mom's friend still works for the airline,
she thought to herself.
********************************
Niles, Michigan
March 11
10:21 a.m.
A bright light hit the corner of Mulder's eye followed by the
awareness of a constant pounding in his head. "Not again," he moaned out
loud. As his eyes opened, he realized that the bright light was the
sun's rays and that the pounding in his head was, well, his own head.
Mulder moaned again as the effort of moving himself to a sitting position
was almost more than he could bear.
It took him a few more minutes to get to full consciousness as he
became more aware of his surroundings. He looked at his watch. My God,
he thought, I've been out for over 15 hours!
Mulder's backpack lay next to him along with his gun and the
camera. He picked up the items to make sure they were functional.
Picking up the camera, he noticed half of the roll was exposed. That's
odd, he thought. I don't remember taking any pictures much less *half a
roll*.
Mulder finally stood up but almost collapsed from the dizziness.
His head felt like someone was using it for batting practice. Looking
around, he realized it was the same exact spot from the night before.
The landscape was only vaguely familiar since he had never seen it in
daylight. The outline of the compound was clearly visible from beyond
the trees at the bottom of the hill. There wasn't much else to see until
he looked up at the trees around him. The very top of several of the
trees in front of him were noticably dark as if they recently were on
fire. There were no other trees within his vicinity bearing the same damage.
Trying to recall the previous night's events, Mulder did remember
the humming and bright light emanated directly in front of his current
spot. Mulder looked down at the camera at this side and started taking
pictures of the burnt trees. He then rewound the entire roll. Whatever
pictures I took last night, he thought, should prove rather interesting.
Mulder made sure he had everything before heading back. He knew
that it would take three to four hours to hike back to his rental car and
another hour or so to drive back to his motel outside of Chicago. His
stomach groaned from lack of any solid food for well over 18 hours. All
he had packed besides surveillance equipment and maps were sunflower
seeds and a canteen of water. Taking a sip from the canteen, Mulder
wiped the sweat from his brow as the bright sun became hotter with each
passing minute. This is going to be a long day, he thought.
**************************
J. Edgar Hoover Building
10:30 a.m.
This feels like deja vu, Scully thought. In front of her was a
list of passenger manifests from every airline flying out of Washington
D.C. within the past 24 hours. Since Mulder went out of town, she hasn't
been assigned a new case for the time being. Skinner told her to catch
up on her paperwork, since Mulder makes it a habit to delay completion of
case files.
Scully smiled to herself. Even though she knew Skinner didn't
always approve of Mulder's methods, there was definitely an admiration
apparent towards his maverick agent. She knew as well how that
admiration has helped them plenty of times get away with "non-protocol"
methods on their cases.
As Scully went through the passenger manifests, she particularly
kept an eye out for mid-western flights. She had been at Mulder's
apartment earlier and found from the condition of his place that he had
left in a big hurry. But more importantly, she noticed that all of his
topographical maps of the mid-western United States were missing. That
was the only clue she had to go on.
Finally, she saw a familiar name on a mid-morning flight to
Chicago: George Hale. Scully remembered the significance of the name for
Mulder back when the X-Files had been shut down. She was sent off to be
the proper pathologist at Quantico while Mulder seemed forever banished
to audio-tape surveillance. He took off to Arecibo, Puerto Rico using
the same alias so as not to attract any suspicions. It looks like Mulder
wanted me to find him this time, she thought. Why would he use the same
alias?
She picked up the phone.
"Hello?" came the familiar female voice.
"Hi Mom," Scully replied. "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."
"I always have time for you, Dana. Is something wrong?"
"No, not exactly," Scully hesitated. "I was wondering if you
would do me a favor...."
*******************************
Forest outside of Niles, Michigan
1:30 p.m.
Mulder kept looking up at the treeline. He tried to shade
himself from the sun's rays as best as he could. His leather jacket had
been wrapped around his backpack as the temperature rose to 75 degrees.
It's not even Spring yet, he thought. How can it be so damn hot?
He had been hiking for well over three hours. His sunflower
seeds had long been finished and his canteen became dangerously close to
empty. He thought he heard a stream up ahead but wasn't sure if he
should trust his ears. Though he stayed on a southwestern course, Mulder
was wondering if he had grossly miscalculated how far away he had left
his rental car. From his estimates, he should have been within view of
the car.
But all he can do was keep on hiking. His thoughts wavered to
the previous evening's experience as well as the excitement of the
mystery of the exposed film. He really wasn't sure what he expected to
find at the compound. Heaven knows it wasn't Samantha. But that whole
scenario with Jeremiah Smith never had a satisfactory closure for him.
And then there was Scully. Two nights ago, she made the first
move towards something that could manifest into the most important
personal relationship of his life. Mulder knew it was hard for her to do
such an openly intimate invitation. After the way he just let her down
at the last minute, there was major doubt if Scully would ever let him
have another chance. Somehow, he thought, I need to make it up to her.
Just then, he saw his car from beyond the trees. He ran towards
it excitedly. God, he thought. I didn't think a puke green sedan would
ever look so beautiful. He reached into his pocket to get the keys when
he noticed that the car seemed to list towards the passenger side.
Mulder looked and saw that someone had come along and slashed both tires
on the passenger side.
"That's just freakin' great!" he screamed. It took everything he
could not to throw rocks at the car. Mulder opened the trunk and saw
that he only had one spare. Of course I would only have one spare, he
thought. I don't know any auto manufacturer to come out with two!
Fortunately, he was near the two lane highway. It shouldn't take
too long for him to get a ride into town and try to get another rental
car. He didn't bring his cell phone along because he knew that Scully
might try to contact him. It was best that she didn't know his
whereabouts so as not to get her into trouble. He hailed a car down....
********************************
J. Edgar Hoover Building
2:00 p.m.
Scully was finishing up on another field report when a knock came
at the door. Hmmm, she thought. I wonder who that might be?
"Come in," she replied.
When the door opened, it took all of Scully's willpower not to
have a big smile on her face. It was Skinner.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Agent Scully," he began.
"Of course not, sir," she politely replied. "Is there something wrong?"
"I'm afraid there is," he said. "I just received a phone call a
few minutes ago from your mother."
"My mother?" Scully feigned a quizzical look.
"Yes, it appears that your aunt in Chicago passed away," he said
looking down at a note, "...a Sara McMichaels?"
"Aunt Sara...." Scully wistfully smiled at the name.
"I'm sorry, Agent Scully," Skinner consoled her. "She requested
time off for you, and since Mulder is out on emergency leave as well, I
granted it."
Scully had to look towards the floor to hide the smile on her
face. "Thank you, sir," she weakly replied without looking up.
"Your welcome. Take as much time as you need. Again, please pass
on my condolences to your family," Skinner finished and walked out.
As soon as she heard the door click, Scully picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Thanks, Mom," Scully said. "Why Aunt Sara? She's been gone for
over five years."
"Well, you wanted an excuse didn't you? I just couldn't out and
out lie to your boss, could I?"
*********************************
Value Budget Motel
Chicago, IL
7:45 p.m.
Mulder tiredly walked to his room after the long drive. It had
taken over an hour for the tow truck to come out and pick up his rental
car. Once it was inspected, and he signed a bunch of waivers, the agency
rented him another car. He would have drove straight back to the hotel,
but his stomach could not take another minute being empty.
That's another reason why he felt so tired. Who would have
thought that a truck stop would have such a large buffet? Mulder would
normally avoid such junk food places, but every piece of fatty food came
his way. He must have gained a couple pounds just from eating all the
barbecue chicken. His system wasn't used to such sinful pleasures. He
would get a long night's sleep once he took a hot shower. It's a good
thing that the place didn't have a bathtub, he thought. Otherwise, I
would probably fall asleep taking a bath.
A half hour later, he was still lying awake in bed. It must have
been that 32 ounce diet cola, he thought. The caffeine was keeping him
wired and awake. It didn't matter which way he tossed and turned. Sleep
just wasn't going to capture him soon enough.
Mulder decided to get up and look over the file that Ms.
Covarubbius gave him. He was rather disappointed that there wasn't any
kind of solid evidence to follow up on. Then, he remembered the roll of
film. It was still in the camera. Looking at his watch <8:24>, he knew
that there wouldn't be any one-hour photo developing store open past
9:00. He was so anxious to find out what pictures he took the night
before, even though he has no recollection whatsoever. I guess it will
have to wait until tomorrow, he thought.
*******************************
O'Hare International Airport
Chicago, IL
9:15 p.m.
Scully went to the baggage claim area to get her luggage. She
was so happy to finally touch down in Chicago. She couldn't believe that
there was a two hour layover in Memphis. It took all her discipline and
self-control not to scream at the airline personnel when they announced
*another* delay at the Memphis airport. In all her travelling
experience, she had never felt so helpless.
The hardest part now was trying to figure out which motel Mulder
would be staying in. She knew that noone would suspect Mulder was even
in Chicago, so he would have felt safe registering under his real name.
Though Mulder went out of his way to make sure that noone could track him
down, he left just enough clues for Scully to follow. It was almost as
though he subconsciously left those clues for that very purpose.
Scully went to the nearest phone booth and checked the yellow
pages. She knew that he would be staying somewhere in the outskirts of
the city. It would have to be some place inexpensive that he can pay
cash so as not to leave a paper trail. Knowing his tastes, Scully knew
one other aspect Mulder might be looking for. She saw a few names in the
phone book and started dialing.
*******************************
Value Budget Motel
10:35 p.m.
Mulder still couldn't sleep but was enjoying himself. He had
been channel surfing for over half an hour and noticed that half of the
channels were pornfests. My kind of entertainment, he thought. There
were some interesting acrobatic moves that he never saw before. It
proved to be far more relaxing than he realized because the next thing he
knew, he fell asleep.
********************************
10:45 p.m.
Scully got out of the taxi and looked around the parking lot. It
looked fairly maintained for a sleazy motel. She double-checked her side
to make sure that her gun was still in the holster. You can never really
be safe enough in these places, she thought.
Scully walked into the front lobby to talk with the night clerk.
From the way he sounded on the phone, she wasn't surprised to see the
tall gangly guy with wavy unkempt hair standing in front of her. His
name tag read "Tommy".
"Can I help you?" he asked as she walked up to the desk.
"Yes, I called a little while ago from the airport to see if my
husband checked in yet."
He looked at her for a moment.
"Name?" he asked.
"It should be under Mulder," she answered.
He looked through his guest register. "Yeah, he's here. In
fact, he checked in yesterday afternoon."
"He flew ahead, because of a convention in town," she lied.
Tommy looked at her some more and not in a respectful way at
that. Scully felt the hair on the back of her neck start to rise and
tried not to blush too heavily.
"Well, he's in room #23. Do you want me to call the room or give
you a key?"
"The key is fine. I don't want to wake him up. I'm sure he's
sleeping," she answered.
"That will be $15 extra for double occupancy and a $5 key deposit."
Scully hastily gave him a twenty and took the key. She felt very
uncomfortable lying as it was. I don't need to stand here and be ogled
by some dork, she thought.
She walked to room #23 and was about to slip the key into the
door lock when she heard a distinctive sigh coming from the room. She
cocked her ear and heard another sigh followed by a grunt. Her eyebrows
arched up as the sounds became clearly distinctive. She was wondering if
the whole trip was a good idea now, but her rage started to surpass the
hurt. Damn it, Mulder, she thought, you are not going to screw some
bimbo just to get out of a date with me!
She opened the door to see Mulder tossing around in bed. What
the hell....
Mulder wanted to hide from the fear. He saw the bright light was
directly above him. There was a distinctive grunting in the distance
that didn't seem consistent with the ship's noise. Tall, skinny figures
started to come closer to him as he was frozen in his spot. He took out
his gun and pointed it towards them but as he tried to tell the figures
to freeze, nothing came out of his mouth. Mulder tried pulling the
trigger but nothing was happening. Oh no, he thought. Not again...
"Mulder!"
He could hear someone screaming his name in the distance. It
really didn't matter, because he couldn't move. He was lying on the
ground in the middle of the forest and nothing moved. Who was calling
him, he thought.
"Mulder, wake up!" Scully tried to shake him again. She felt his
pulse, and it was racing like a jackhammer. He's going into shock, she
thought. "Mulder!"
He recognized the voice. It was Scully, but he didn't see her
anywhere. Instead, he saw a female face peering at him. The face seemed
familiar. It looked like....
"Samantha!" Mulder yelled out. Scully nearly fell off the bed as
he looked all around the room. He became disappointed as he realized
that he was no longer in the forest but back in his hotel room. But it
seemed so real, he thought. Then, he realized that Scully was standing
next to him.
"Scully?" he asked. "When did you get here?" He heard the
moaning coming from the TV and instantly blushed. He grabbed the remote
to turn it off.
"Just a few minutes ago," she replied. "Are you alright? You
were starting to go into shock. I was afraid that you were suffering
some kind of seizure."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Scully, I don't know what happened out there,
but I think Samantha visited me."
"Samantha? Are you sure? I know you just screamed out her name,
but it could have been just part of your dream."
"No, Scully," he insisted. "I saw Samantha last night. I think
she might have been trying to say something to me."
"Do you remember anything else?"
"No..." he trailed off. He saw the camera on the table. "But I
might have an idea.
***************************
Washington D.C.
March 12
1:35 p.m.
"Will you hurry up, Frohike," Mulder insisted as the pictures
were starting to develop.
"Just hold on, Mulder," Frohike replied. "I can't hurry up the
chemical processing or the pictures might not turn out right."
So far, half of the exposed roll revealed nothing but odd shapes
and figures that didn't correspond to any forest setting. Yet as the
last batch was being developed, they saw part of a hand. Though slightly
blurry, it looked like a feminine hand.
"That's all that came out?" Mulder disappointedly asked. The
pictures of the burnt treetops did come out but that was small
consolation.
"I'm sorry, Mulder," Frohike told him.
"Something happened out there, but I guess I won't ever know,
will I?"
Scully stood nearby and watched Mulder's spirits deflated. She
had wished that he would have let her tag along. Perhaps, they might
have had better luck, but they'll never know.
"Hey, Mulder," she said.
He turned around.
"Don't think I forgot that you still owe me dinner."
Mulder smiled. "Right, Scully," he replied. "I'm sorry about that."
Frohike couldn't help but interject his feelings. "If I promised
you dinner, Agent Scully," he said. "I would never ditch you."
"I don't know whether to be flattered or appalled," Scully replied.
****************************
The Parthenon Restaurant
7:35 p.m.
"Gee, Scully," Mulder said. "I don't know how you did it, but I
could have taken you to a nice restaurant in Chicago before we left."
"I know Mulder, but I wanted to eat someplace where they actually
clear the plates off the table for you."
"Did I ever tell you how wonderful you are?" Mulder asked while
wiggling his eyebrows.
"Oh, not in the past four years or so...."
"I'll need to alleviate that, won't I?"
"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything."
************************************
THE END
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