Part 4 March 21, 2000 8:15 PM The second trip to Charlotte's house was very different than the first. They came a few minutes before the scheduled appointment while things were still being set up for the meetings of the evening. They were led into the drawing room but could hear quite a bit of motion in the hallway beyond. After a few moments, the door opened and an elderly man walked straight through the room and over to a small table and chair on the opposite side of the room from where Mulder and Scully were sitting. After pouring himself a very generous amount of whatever brownish liquor was in the bottle, he sat down in the chair with a groan. Mulder was half-standing up, wondering if he should introduce himself when the man waved him back down. "I know who you are. FBI agents. Donna and whatever the hell name Charlotte decided to mutilate in order to come up with 'Foxy.'" "Actually, I'm Fox Mulder and this is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully." He gave another half-mast wave. He looked absolutely worn out as he lifted the liquid to his lips and took a hefty swallow. "George. George Jenkins. Charlotte's makeup artist." Scully glanced at Mulder, surprise quickly passing over her face. George noticed it. "Yes, young lady. Itstrange. It's even strange to me. But I was one of the first makeup artists hired by the studios. I was trained by Max Factor himself. Charlotte had enough pull to have me as her 'personal' makeup man and strangely enough, she's not let me go yet. I think she does it because she loves toying with old gay guys. Payback for us not kissing her ass like the rest of the American males." "So you come in now and do her makeup for her in everyday life?" "You don't expect her to do it herself, do you, young lady? The woman was pampered beyond belief and got used to it. But, you got to hand it to her, she was also one very, very smart cookie. She hooked herself up with some very smart men who invested her money well, so she can afford to keep up this hedonistic life until the day the earth swallows her whole." "Um--you don't sound as if you like her that much. . ." Mulder gently suggested. George smiled. A genuine smile. "I love the old bat. She's my best friend. She really is. Every pampered cell in her body. I just wish--I wish we could both drop the act. The fact is--she's completely capable of putting on makeup herself. She just wants me around and doesn't really believe I'd come to see her every day if I weren't paid to do so. Well, hell--maybe she does need me. It takes quite a while to get a 76 year old woman looking 50 again--even with all her nips and tucks." Mulder leaned forward as a sudden connection was made. "George? Did you do the makeup for the commercial Gary Lawrence and Mark Burns were involved in?" "Yes. How did you know?" "Something the director said. Anyway--can you tell me if anything seemed odd? Did you know them from the old days?" "I knew them but didn't work on them then. As I said, I was exclusively Charlotte's. I did the makeup for them now because it was part of the publicity. They wanted to gather enough of the old crew together to make it seem as if they were sparing no expense to recreate the magic of Charlotte's films. In actuality, they were just hoping we were all so old we wouldn't even know the going-rate for people currently in our professions. Anyway--these guys aged. I mean, badly. Neither of them had any cosmetic work done and that's not something I'm used to seeing in this town. Virgin faces." "And you did your movie makeup magic?" "Sonny--there is no amount of makeup or Plaster of Paris, for that matter, that could fill those wrinkles. It was. . . undignified. Just like this whole shit-ass campaign to sell her book." "You don't approve?" Scully asked. "I don't. I don't mind Charlotte writing her memoirs. I think there is a medium sized market for it, at best. We have to face it. She was never a great actress. She was a good actress in a popular series of movies. Those who remember her, remember her. We should publish the damned thing on a limited scale and go after these old fans. But, no. God forbid you should actually do something sensible in this town. So, they are taking these older people--and hey, I'm one of them. I'm not saying we should all be in homes somewhere, secluded from the rest of the world. But we shouldn't be out parading ourselves and recreating old moments as old people pretending to be young. And just you wait-- that is what they will do with Charlotte. They will put her in some dress reminiscent of one she used to wear--pull down that thinning Lady Clairol hair so it drapes over her shoulders and have her do some idiotic scene she did 45 years ago. And the semi-legend will become the joke of Hollywood. Some of her loyal fans will not care; some of her casual fans will just shake their heads at the old lady gone slightly batty and the rest of the public will remember her--and by extension-- all of us, as laughingstocks." George finished his drink and poured another. Mulder tried to steer the conversation back to the original subject that they touched upon before George's diatribe against Hollywood. "Did you notice anything strange about Mr. Burns or Mr. Lawrence?" "Not a thing. They asked me about Charlotte. If I still kept in touch. I told them I had. They just inquired, casually, if she was doing well. I did their makeup and they got on the set. And they started quoting lines from the movie but used her name instead of her character's name. Then, they went off to the food services table like maniacs and grabbed knives or something. We all just thought it was a joke. Until they were lying there bleeding to death. Unreal." "In the original movie, which character used the words, 'I would die for you?'" Scully asked. "Ah--this was double your pleasure, Agent Scully. Both men did." Mulder frowned. He had quite a few questions Charlotte needed to address. Charlotte kept them waiting another half hour, during which time George took his decidedly less grouchy leave with Charlotte's chauffeur helping him along the way. Charlotte appeared in a red kimono. Black chopsticks adorned her upswept hair. After air kissing both Mulder and Scully near their cheeks, she sat down as if ready for an inquisition. "Charlotte--I really would like to cover all three of the men who have died. Tonight," Scully started. "Well, I will do my best. You know, I do have a life. I still have to work on my book after you leave and there are various appearances that have to be discussed. Jonathan is bringing down a copy of the book for you, by the way, Fox darling." "Um. Thank you. Let's get started then. Jim Downey?" he prodded. "Ah, Jim. Such a sweet man. And how I loved him. Let's see. We met at a USO show. Bob Hope had invited me. Nice man but between the three of us, I never did understand his humor. Anyway. . .we put on a show and we were doing this sketch--and Bob had arranged for Jim to be a small part of it. He was the captain of a troop and they all found it very amusing to see him up there--acting. I'm sure he got ribbed over it later. Anyway, he was terribly sweet and, well--we managed to meet later at the Officer's Club for a few drinks--and we did have a terribly brief love affair. That night and a few others before I headed back for the United States." "And did you continue to see him after he left the Army?" "No. I never saw him again." "Can you think of a reason why he'd use rat poison as a way of killing himself?" She shuddered. "Not at all. Horribly disgusting way to die, I would imagine." Scully turned the conversation to the other victims. "Gary Lawrence? Mark Burns? What was your relationship with each of these men, Miss. . .Charlotte." Charlotte leaned back against the sofa. Scully noticed her eyes looked much more tired than they had the previous evening. At her age, she probably should be conducting her business at a more reasonable hour. "We all have our wild moments, I guess. I normally dated one man at a time. No. That's not true, either. Dear Dana, we can discuss this because it's a different age. I used to fall in love very quickly. I didn't date as much as have relationships. I fell in love very quickly. I could date dozens of men but they would never get a second date if I didn't feel something for them. However, when I did feel something for someone--I took it to the next level, if you understand what I'm saying." Scully nodded. "Well, we started Sayonara Sunrise and I couldn't decide between Gary and Mark. They were both so different. Gary was tall, dark and handsome. Very intense. Much like our Fox here. Mark was fair and just. . .lovely. Poetry in motion, really. So, I saw them both." "And they both knew about each other." "Oh, yes. They did." "They didn't get along." "I wouldn't say that. They managed to keep a respectable distance from each other and were both trying to outdo each other in wooing me. But there was nothing violent or even unpleasant about their personal relationship." "How did those relationships end, Charlotte?" Mulder asked. "Mark and I parted company after the movie was completed. Actually, he met someone. The woman he would marry eventually. I believe he was still married to her at the time of his death. And Gary and I were friends for quite some time--at least six months--before we just--got tired of each other. I think he was married several times." "No contact since?" "No." "You mentioned your book and not having to speak with the first victim for research. Did you have to contact any of these gentlemen?" "No. Jonathan does it." "Jonathan?" "My co-writer. He feels we will have more objective information if a neutral party approaches them. No emotional blocking, as he puts it." "And is he the one who suggested the publicity shoot?" "He's one of the ones," a male voice said upon entering the room. Both Mulder and Scully looked up to see a man in his early thirties--dark red hair and green eyes, entering the room with several boxes. He put the boxes on the coffee table and shook both agents' hands. "Jonathan Morton." "My co-writer and twin, born 40 years later, of course. It was an unusual birth." Charlotte smiled. "Well, you certainly both have the same coloring," Scully remarked. "Not really. Hair is real. Eyes are enhanced through the use of colored contacts. Mine are a muddy sort of brown," he smiled, shaking her hand firmly. "Ah," Scully said, slightly disappointed that the bright, green depths were not "natural." Charlotte started rummaging through one box. "Ah. Here it is. Thank you, Jonathan. You are a peach. Fox, Dana--take a look. I have pictures." Mulder and Scully took seats on either side of Charlotte as she showed them pictures of all four of the men. Each one extremely different in looks and seemingly in demeanor. Mulder pointed to one picture. "Jim Downey?" "Yes." "This was the sketch you were talking about?" "Yes. A take-off on the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet. Doesn't he look handsome?" Mulder nodded in a distracted way. "Did he--use the words--the ones from the movies? 'I would die for you' during that sketch?" "No. I don't think so. He did do it later though. Actually, he led the troops in a group 'I would die for you,' as a way of thanking me. It was extremely flattering to hear all those men say that--especially knowing they were going in to battle." "What about Hank Costas? Did he ever use that expression? A frown crossed her face. "Several times actually." "May I ask when?" "Darling, Fox! Some things really shouldn't be spoken of in polite company. I will say that he only said it once when we were in a more public place. It was opening night of my play and he was taking me home. He said it," the frown deepened, "in an alley, of all places. Not romantic at all. And it didn't impress me. Frankly, by that time, I was thoroughly sick of the expression." Mulder turned to Scully with a small smile of triumph on his face. Scully turned to Jonathan Morton. "Mr. Morton. . .you mentioned setting up the publicity shot between the two older actors? Can you tell us anything? Were you at the shoot?" "No. I had talked to both men before in a conference call and had met with each for background for the book. But this was several weeks before the shoot. Actually, I said I set it up but it was the brainchild of both myself and Charlotte's agent, Jeff. He's out of the country for a few weeks but I'm sure he'll speak with you when he gets back. Anyway, both men were very willing to talk about Charlotte and we thought--it would be a hoot. To many, it would be nice seeing these men who virtually dropped out of the business coming out and doing something again. And to those who didn't know them, it would build Charlotte's mystique. How these older men were still carrying a torch for her and willing to die for her character. We, of course, had no idea they were so. . .mentally unstable." "Is that how you look at it?" Scully asked. He turned his green gaze upon her. "Well, it must be, Agent Scully. What else could have made two grown men kill each other over a woman they hadn't seen in years?" "Did you bring the book, Jonathan?" Charlotte interrupted. "Of course. It's in the other box. Sorry we don't really have it in any kind of professional binding. It's more or less just a manuscript but you'll get the idea. We both are very proud of what we've done so far." "I'm sure it will be a fascinating story," Mulder said, accepting the box. "You are a fan, Charlotte tells me." "Yes." "Well, that's who we're writing it for. All of Charlotte's many, many fans," he said. His speech was as flamboyant as hers, Scully thought. Charlotte nodded slowly in agreement. Her eyes were getting cloudy and Scully doubted that she would be doing any real work that night. 11:02 PM On the road back to the hotel Back in the car, Mulder was as excited as he normally got when he felt he made some sort of breakthrough. "You heard it." "Heard what, exactly?" "Connection #1-- we've always had--the two men killing each other as they had in the movie. Today, we got the other two. Hank Colby said 'I would die for you'--in an alley. He died--in an alley. And, finally-- connection #3--Mr. Rat Poison." "And how did you make that connection, Mulder? I didn't hear Charlotte mention rat poison at all." "Ah--but Jim Downey did Romeo and Juliet with her." "Romeo did not die of rat poisoning." "Well, I'm sure rat poison was easier to get than whatever crap Romeo used. Plus, Hank might have been slightly confused due to his illness." Scully frowned. "You seem to be reaching here." "Am I? This is the only lead we have." "Okay. Given that they seem to be killing themselves due to some association they had with something in their lives with Charlotte--what do we do next? We still don't know what's compelling them to act." "Mind control? Post-hypnotic suggestion?" "It does seem that way. Don't look so shocked. Once in a while, I agree with you. But the question is who is doing the controlling? Charlotte? I don't know about you, Mulder--but I see a very tired old lady who is trying to pretend she's about forty years younger and failing." Mulder looked at her in surprise. "Really? I don't see that at all. I think she's very vital for her age or any age, really." "So you think she's killing these men?" "No. I have no idea who is killing these men. And if she does have something to do with it, she might not be aware that she has this power. She did seem to be able to mesmerize them when she was younger; maybe some of this stood the test of time." Scully made a sound that clearly signified disbelief. "You don't think a woman has that type of hold over a man?" "No. Actually, I don't. These men were not monks, Mulder. No one was pining over her or apparently even thinking much about her in all these years. I think they were infatuated with her, as most men would be. She was a very lovely woman. Had a reputation for being both mysterious-- and loose. A very attractive combination. Once the mystery was gone, however, I think they moved on with their lives. I see her as rather a tragic figure, really." "Well, I don't. I think she has power." "You would." Mulder smiled and moved the car into the drive-through lane of a Burger King. March 22, 2000 4:17 AM Mulder didn't panic when he heard the slight sliding sound of a keycard being passed through the slot of his door. He knew who it would be. Scully didn't look very surprised to find him sitting up against the headboard, bathed by the light of his television set. She was in a nightshirt and robe and quickly made her way over to his bed and slid in beside him. "I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold," she murmured as she rubbed her feet against his legs. "It's 4 AM, Scully. Time for all good agents to be asleep, not running around cold corridors." "You're not asleep." "Who said anything about me being good?" "I think you're very good. Why do you think I'm running down cold corridors? Come here for a minute," she grabbed his arms, drawing them around herself, as she rotated their bodies so she was on her back with him trying to rest as lightly as possible on top of her. "Are you coming on to me?" Mulder asked her with great amusement. "I need your warmth, that's all," she said, drawing his full weight on her. "You're going to be crushed," he said, trying to offset some of his weight by rising on his elbows, while she fought his move by pulling him closer. She opened her legs and his torso slipped down between them. "Put your weight on your pelvis, Mulder. I won't be crushed." "Uh. . .huh," he said, finally maneuvering himself into a half-sit up position. She looked up at him and wiped his hair away from his forehead. "Warming up?" He asked, feeling quite warm himself. She smiled and lightly drew her fingers over his face; concentrating on his nose and cheekbones. Her fingertips always surprised him. They should be rough from all the harsh antiseptic soaps she used, but they were soft and silky. She seemed to be concentrating on each place her fingers briefly traveled over. When she outlined his lips with her index finger, a tiny light seemed to burn in her eyes, and move within her until her smile softened and deepened. She licked her lips, almost unconsciously, but he was determined not to kiss her unless she initiated it. It was her game tonight. His erection poking her in all the right places would be enough of a clue that the flesh was willing. The spirit, however, would damned well wait forever if it had to. "Can I ask you something?" Her wandering gaze settled on his eyes so she was looking right into them. "Anything," he responded. "The other night--our second night together--were you. . .did it even cross you mind to mention. . ." "What?" He felt her take as deep a breath as she could with him leaning heavily on her. "Some sort of permanent relationship?" She finished. Ah, okay. "I wasn't going to mention it at all. But I have to admit, I did think about it. Putting a label on something I believe is already in progress. Is that what sent you packing?" "I don't know. Not really. It was just one of the many things that seemed to cross my mind." She moved her hand down across his neck and put her other hand on his shoulder and gave him a playful shove. "Off. You're crushing me," she said, as he rolled off her and onto his back. He braced himself. Crushing her physically and emotionally. She would probably make the door in about 2.5 seconds, tops. Instead, she laughed softly and leaned in his direction, lifting herself up on an elbow. She took her other hand and lightly ran it down the middle of his chest. "I've always wanted to do this. . .just touch you. . ." she said softly, as she decreased even the faint pressure she was applying and made her touch feather light as it continued its downward direction. She reached the waistband of his boxers. "May I?" she asked. "You may," Mulder said. . .hoping to get a bit of relief in his nearly overly excited state. She slipped her fingers inside and ran them in a horizontal direction across his waist before going back to his navel and, once again, turning into feathery mode as she gently lifted the waistband of his shorts with her left hand and touched his warm, silky flesh with her right. "I have a sudden urge to make amends with the part of you I offended the most," she explained as she increased the pressure of her fingers. "I believe he completely forgave you about five minutes ago." She looked into his eyes. "I'm really not making light of anything, Mulder. Really." "I know. I told you. It's all forgotten. We are moving on. We have no need to be serious or repentant." She pulled at his waistband. "Move up a little," she said as she tugged his boxers down and off. She had wrapped her fingers around his penis and slowly moved her hand up and down his velvety flesh. She seemed to be concentrating on the task--at hand--and paying secondary attention to the words they were speaking. It struck Mulder that he didn't care. They could both recite the Gettysburg address or say nothing at all. She was trying to reconnect and he would let her give him whatever she was ready and comfortable giving. Suddenly, she stopped. She sat up, pulled off her robe and threw it to the floor. Her panties were soon to follow. She quickly straddled his lap and resumed her manual efforts--this time with both hands lightly playing across his skin. She leaned over him and whispered, "Nice?" He managed a low groan of agreement as the pressure of her hands increased. She moved her hands to his shoulders and bent down to kiss his cheek. "Your cheeks are a little scruffy, Mulder," she said, rubbing against the stubbly surface like a cat marking her territory with her scent. "Should I shave?" "Uh-uh." She lightly nipped his earlobe then sucked on it in relief. She whispered, "I love you more than anything, Mulder. Just so you know." Her 900-number operator voice was as earnest as a four year old's in it's simple declaration. "I know that Scully," he gasped as she moved back, grasping him firmly and welcoming him inside herself. In their limited encounters, she had never been the one on top. It was an incredible feeling. He breathed deeply and opened his eyes fully to watch her as she led their movements. She pinned his arms to his side as he reached out to hold onto some part of her. He wasn't even sure which part he was aiming for when he initially put his hands out but she held them down and began slowly circling her hips over his. She seemed to be concentrating on his facial expressions, determined to give him maximum pleasure. After a few moments, he realized it was more a scientific exploration than any kind of enjoyable experience for her. "Scully," he tried to interrupt but she ignored him, moving her body in small jerky motions that felt wonderful to him but probably did very little for her. Knowing that she was doing this as an act of penance, in some ways, made it very difficult for him to just let go and enjoy the moment. He watched her as she continued to move, a thin sheen of sweat breaking across her brow. She looked at him, frustration clearly written on her face. He quickly broke out of her grasp and grabbed hold of her hips. He lifted his knees and put the soles of his feet flat on the mattress. "Together, Scully, " he said and jerked himself up into her. She quickly gasped at the intensity and he felt her relaxing for a moment and then meeting him, stroke down for each of his upward thrusts. Together. He could tell by her moans that she was beginning to enjoy herself as much as he was and he increased the pressure of his fingertips on her hips, tilting her forward a bit. She opened her eyes as her hands came down on his chest for further leverage. She looked into his eyes and smiled. A warm, surprised smile. This was pretty simple. Pretty basic. And not terrifying at all. This is what they were good at. Give and take. Take and give. His hand slipped forward to stroke her and within seconds, the entire top half of her body was free-falling the rest of the way down to his chest. Not a long ride, but an exhilarating one, accented by his warmth gushing through her as his jerking subsided and his entire body relaxed beneath her own. She listened to the sounds of both of their respiration rates returning to normal. She felt his hands as they stroked the hair out of her eyes and away from her face. "Anytime you are uncomfortable, you can go," he whispered to her. "I don't have a problem with it anymore. Really." "Not right now, Mulder. I'm a ragdoll." He laughed in confusion. "A what?" She lifted herself off him, leaving a small mess on his upper legs but not seeming to care. She settled by his side, grabbing his right bicep and wrapping both arms around it as she rested her head against his shoulder. "I feel like a ragdoll. All loose and mushy. Can't move. 'Night." Mulder looked down at her red head resting against his flesh. . .felt her lips slowly open against his shoulder in a half-hearted attempt at one last kiss and through the warm, steady breath hitting his skin, realized she hadn't quite made it before slumber overtook her. He should worry about whether she was acting totally in character or if lack of sleep over the past few days caused her to come to him tonight. But he decided against it. He swiped at himself with the corner of the sheet, pulled up the comforter, and settled in to enjoy the warmth of her presence. For however long it lasted. End of Part 4