THE TRUTH

Vol. 1 Issue 11

March 3, 2001

MUSINGS FROM THE EDITOR'S DESKTOP

What an incredible cliffhanger! What a terrible tease! Yes, CC has stirred up the Philes again by promising answers and asking more questions. "This Is Not Happening" will be the last episode until April 1st, but we will enjoy some light-hearted fun with the boys, The Lone Gunmen. Hopefully, they will at least distract us from mourning over Mulder's supposed demise. I emphasize "supposed". hehe. Please go check out the website again. If you've forgotten where you subscribed, it's located at: http://www.oocities.org/xanderfrohike

I would really appreciate it. I have added a whole new photo gallery and it includes some new pictures from TINH. Also, I added an archive where you can see past issues of The Truth. I spent a lot of time on this, my first website, and I'd love to see the numbers on my hit counter go up a few digits. Thanks. Okay, enjoy this week's issue. We will return next week with a review of The Lone Gunmen's premiere, "Pilot". Now I will shut up.

IN THIS WEEK'S ISSUE

NEWS

REVIEW OF "THIS IS NOT HAPPENING"

SPECIAL FEATURE

SHIPPER'S CORNER

MULDERISMS/SCULLYISMS

PAPER SAINTS 5/15

NEWS

by the editor (xanderfrohike@yahoo.com)

Laugh Live With The Lone Gunmen

Chat live with Tom Braidwood, Dean Haglund and Bruce Harwood on Monday, March 5th at 9 PM ET/6 PT. Check the Official Site for details!

Awards Season Begins

The Art Directors Guild has awarded its Excellence in Production Design for a Single Camera Television Series to The X-Files' episode "Without." Congratulations to Production Designer Corey Kaplan, Art Directors Phil Dagort and Sandy Getzler, and Assistant Art Director Steve Miller. Gillian Anderson was nominated as Best Actress in a Drama Series by the Screen Actors Guild Awards. The event held on March 11th, will be broadcast on TNT.

"This Is Not Happening" Ratings Sunday Fox rolled in all key demos, led by dominant 18-49 wins by "The Simpsons" (9.1/22), "Malcolm in the Middle" (8.9/20) and "The X-Files" (9.3/20)-- the latter the top score, with the exception of "ER," for any one-hour drama on any net this season.

by Je Souhaite (Jesouhaite@juno.com)

SCULLY: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

(Fade to black)

TO BE CONTINUED....

That pretty much summed up my feeling at the end of this episode. How could Chris Carter be so cruel! Making us wait an to see what happened. An entire month before we see the aftermath of Mulder's return. An entire month before we see how this sudden turn of events really affects Scully.An entire month..well..until the next new episode, DeadAlive.

THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!!

I must say that this was a very appropriate title for the episode. Kudos to CC for actually keeping thing consistent. We all remember Jeremiah Smith from season 4 and Scully's reference to the scene from "CLOSURE" where her and Mulder we talking about souls and starlight:

(cut to: Mulder in the spaceship, Scully wakes up from a bad dream about him)

SCULLY: What if he’s dead? I’m sorry. I just had a bad dream

SKINNER: Let me get some clothes on.

(cut to: Scully looking up at the stars)

SCULLY: I once had a talk with Mulder about starlight. How it’s billions of years old. Stars that are now long dead, who’s light is still traveling through time. It won’t die that light. Maybe that’s the only thing that never does. He said that’s where souls reside. I hope he’s right. (Skinner puts his arm around her)

SKINNER: If you’re trying to prepare yourself, I want you to stop. Nothing says that we’re gonna stumble over him in some field. Nothing says he won’t be fine.

He's still got to work on the pregnancy time line a bit for the pregnancy. It's impossible for a woman to be 9 months pregnant and not be showing at all. Maybe the baby decided not to grow until Mulder got back? Hey, ya never know!

Welcome Anna Beth Gish! Enter Agent Monica Reyes. I actually really liked her. A lot of people, I've found, didn't think she fit into this episode's theme with her bubbly personality and all, but I think her character was definitely an asset. She reminded me of a combination of Mulder and Scully's sister, Melissa. She doesn't rule anything out and it seems that she's willing to try anything once. Things could be interesting in the future if there is a season 9. We also got to learn a little bit more about Doggett's past as well. Now we know he had a son, and that he is most likely dead. We still have no clues about why or how though. This will definitely have a greater impact on him as the season progresses.

I am definitely happy that they expanded Skinner's role this season, and I hope to see a lot more of him in upcoming episodes. I think Mitch Pileggi is a wonderful actor and there is so much more they can do with his character then they have. Speaking of actors, Gillian Anderson gave one heck of a performance in this show. You could just tell by her facial expressions and looking at her eyes exactly they way Scully was feeling without her even having to say a word.

Now that Scully has actually see a real life spaceship, will she be able to go back to her skeptical ways? She is mostly a believer now, but there were times that she doubted herself. Now, after the experience of seeing a UFO with her own two eyes at Jeremiah's compound, will she ever be able to doubt again?

This episode was incredible. Probably one of the best cliff hanger's I've seen in a long while ( even though I would love to ring CC's neck) and it was one of the best episodes of this season and possibly of the entire 8 seasons. I'm going to feel like Mulder sitting in that contraption on the spaceship waiting for this month to go by. I only hope it does so fast. Until then, we can enjoy the Lone Gun Men...and reruns.

Mulder Drops In; 'X-Files' Fans Threaten to Drop Out
Television * The brief return of David Duchovny's character provokes dismay among some core fans.

By STEVE CARNEY, Special to The Times

Sunday's was the "X-Files" episode fans had waited all year for: finally, the long-advertised official return of their beloved character, FBI Agent Fox Mulder.
Then he shows up in the final moments as a corpse, dumped from a UFO like a mob snitch from a Coupe De Ville. "Could it get worse?" wrote one fan, setting the tone of the irate messages on the official Web site of the Fox network series that began streaming in as soon as the show was over.
"PLEASE! OH PLEASE!," said another, shouting at series creator Chris Carter. "LISTEN TO US! You risk everything if you let Mulder die."
"That is no way to end Mulder's participation," complained yet another. "He deserved a better and bigger going-out show . . . if indeed he is dead . . . are we to be strung along again?"
This isn't the first time the voices of "X-Files" fans have been raised to a fever pitch. With the show, about a pair of FBI agents investigating extraterrestrials and the paranormal, now in its eighth season, even Carter had worried that it risked hitting the same note too often. By last season some fans said it was too late, that the show had already declined. Then David Duchovny, who plays Mulder, announced he would appear in only half the episodes this season.
So aliens abducted his character at the end of the seventh season, and Carter and Fox introduced new characters to round out the cast--to the decidedly mixed reactions of fans.
Most agreed they wanted Mulder back, though--as evinced by preliminary ratings for Sunday's show. The episode averaged 16.8 million viewers, the highest for a single "X-Files" episode in more than a year, and higher than the season average during the series' peak, in 1996-1997.
And now the series--known for its twists, turns and elements that are not what they seem--will torment fans even further. The resolution to Sunday's episode won't come until April 1, while Carter's "X-Files" spin-off, "The Lone Gunmen," premieres and airs in its place, 9 p.m. Sunday nights for the next three weeks.
"I have viewed new levels of frustration this season that I would not wish on my worst enemy. Stop the madness . . . just bring back Mulder and no one gets hurt," steamed a fan on another of the myriad Web sites devoted to "The X-Files."
Some, perhaps waiting to see where the show will take them, were more Zen-like: "Now they've killed Mulder. Bummer." Others were fed up with their fellow fans' angst: "Were you not watching the same [episode] as I? . . . Mulder's back now . . . will you people ever stop complaining?"
"I love the show," wrote another. "I think the reason people thought that it [was lousy] is because we were supposed to have some closure tonight and all we got are more questions. When a show does this, it makes it more interesting. Yeah, I wanted some answers tonight, but I am glad that it isn't over. Keeps the suspense and fire in it. I can't wait until April 1st."
"Oh, come on!" said another. "Do you really, honestly think Chris Carter is going to 'ruin' the rest of 'The X-Files'? There are a lot of things that have happened that I personally didn't expect or would have never wanted. . . . But he's never let us down. He keeps us watching doesn't he?"
"Tonight's show was great. This is one of a three-parter, so a lot more will happen. I am freaked out that we have to wait until April, but that is scheduling," said yet another.
Carter himself has hinted that Mulder isn't really dead--he said Mulder and his partner Scully, played by Gillian Anderson, will be the foundation of future "X-Files" motion pictures he's planning, and that Duchovny may even return for a ninth season.
On Friday night, during a preview of "The Lone Gunmen" at Beverly Hills' Museum of Television & Radio, Carter was asked directly by a fan whether Duchovny would be back next year.
"He has not ruled it out," Carter said, "but if he does come back, it would be in a more limited way than he's done for the eighth [current] season."
He continued: "Banning anything unforeseen, [the series] should be back for a ninth season. But if it's not, the movie will follow right after the eighth season."
One fan at the "Lone Gunmen" event implored Carter, "Please don't hurt the baby"--which, given the way they regard their favorite show, some fans might say that not only about the baby Scully is carrying, but also about the series itself.

* * *

From Per Manum...http://www.insidethex.co.uk/transcrp/scrp808.htm

(SCULLY enters her apartment. It is late afternoon, and she is tired. She closes the door and rests her hand on her stomach. The camera pans back to the door. There is a knock at the door. SCULLY's hand, now in a white blouse sleeve, reaches to open it. It is MULDER. This is another flashback. They both seem a little nervous and uncomfortable with each other.)

SCULLY: Hi.

MULDER: Hi.

SCULLY: Come on in.

MULDER: Thanks.

(She closes the door behind him.)

SCULLY: Can I take your coat?

MULDER: No, I can't stay. I gotta get back to the office for a while.

SCULLY: Obviously you've had some time to think about my request.

MULDER: Um, it's... it's not something that I get asked to do every day. Um, but I am absolutely flattered.

(SCULLY looks embarrassed.)

MULDER: No, honestly.

SCULLY: Okay, if... if you're trying to politely say "no," it's okay. I, I understand.

(She avoids his eyes.)

MULDER: See what's weird is... this sounds, and this sounds really weird, I know, but I, I just wouldn't want this to come between us.

(SCULLY is devastated, but tries to cover it up.)

SCULLY: Yeah. I know... I, I understand. I do.

(Realizing that she has misunderstood, MULDER reaches out as if to stroke her cheek, but pulls back.)

MULDER: Well ... the answer is "yes."

(About 18 emotions cross SCULLY's face in four seconds. She is happy. They smile at each other. She comes into his arms and they hold each other for a moment. Things are still a little awkward as they part.)

SCULLY: Um... Well, I'll call Dr. Parenti and...

(MULDER nods, smiling.)

SCULLY: I assume that he'll want to meet you and go through the, uh, the donor procedure.

MULDER: At that part, I'm a pro.

MULDERISMS/SCULLYISMS

Mulder: I think I'm in big trouble.
Scully: Oh, Mulder, how many times have they tried to shut us down?
Mulder: Yeah, but I never actually assaulted an auditor before.
Scully: Did you hurt him?
Mulder: I reduced his vision a little bit.

(from 7x22 Requiem)

Mulder: More alien abductions, Scully.

Scully: I don't know how we could possibly justify the expense.

Mulder: We'd probably turn up nothing.

Scully: Let's go waste some money.

(from 7x22 Requiem)

by Jill Selby (jillselby@yahoo.com)

PAPER SAINTS 5/15

by Jill Selby (jillselby@yahoo.com)

Classification: XRA/MSR

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: None

____________

PAPER SAINTS 5/15

A dingy, dust-encrusted corner of the basement was, in Fox

Mulder's opinion, prime office real estate. The more inconvenient

and inhospitable, the better. He'd never stopped to wonder if

Scully felt the same. His partner always stood out like rare art

against the backdrop of clutter and mismatched furniture of the

X-Files office, but here, in a room filled with dark wood and

gleaming brass, she was framed like a masterpiece.

As Scully toured her temporary office, Mulder went on his own

journey of discovery. He captured and catalogued the delight, the

awe, the yearning that flitted across Scully's features as she

took in every opulent detail. In this unguarded moment she

revealed to him the secret she'd been keeping all these years:

she wanted an office like this.

She stroked her hand over the polished mahogany desk, inspected

the pictures and plants, admired the panoramic view from the

corner windows, but it was the chair that pulled at her like a

magnet. No matter where she wandered in the office, she always

made her way back to hover by that chair.

"Go ahead, Scully. Try it out."

"I don't know, Mulder." Even as she feigned reluctance, she was

inching closer to her goal. "Once you've experienced folding

metal, there's really no going back." When at last she sank into

the welcoming cocoon of deep-tufted leather, she looked

blissfully happy. Perfectly comfortable. She looked like she

belonged in that chair.

Recognizing his motives as selfish didn't diminish Mulder's

desire to yank that audacious piece of furniture out from under

his partner's butt before she started developing career

ambitions. He already had plenty of incentive to solve this case

and get Scully back to D.C. as quickly as possible, but severing

her love affair with that chair would be a nice bonus.

Unfortunately, a chair wasn't Mulder's only frustration. Scully

had already told him what his assignment for the day would be,

but when Solomon and Abbott arrived for a briefing, she told him

again. He didn't like it any better on second hearing, and argued

just as vehemently now as he had over breakfast. "Scully, the

people at Infinity Aerospace aren't going to tell us anything

about what Tony Oliver did for them. We'd be wasting our time."

"The executives at Infinity had a motive for wanting Oliver dead.

We can't investigate the man's murder without questioning the

prime suspects."

"Wouldn't it be better to--"

"Dr. Jacob Erwin in Infinity's Research Department is expecting

you and Agent Abbott at 10:00." And that, it was clear, was the

end of the discussion.

If it had been anyone else in that chair, he would have argued

until next week about the uselessness of the assignment, but this

was more than a debate with his supervisor. This was a test.

Scully was watching him for a reaction, but more importantly, so

were Solomon and Abbott. Everyone in the room exhaled when he

gave his conciliatory nod.

He might quarrel with Scully's priorities, but no one could

complain about a briefing that lasted less than ten minutes.

Solomon wasted no time on idle chit-chat with her coworkers. She

took the request from Scully and literally ran with it, right

past an agent offering fresh coffee, to the computer lab where

she could search for connections between Oliver and Harper.

Abbott, however, was a man in need of guidance.

Mulder led the way to the front desk to requisition a car, then

tossed the keys to Abbott. "So, Nelson, how far is it from here

to Florissant?"

Abbott uncrumpled the paper he had clutched in his palm.

"Infinity Aerospace is in St. Louis proper."

"Yes, but Tony Oliver's widow lives in Florissant."

"Agent Scully said--"

"We'll head over to Infinity this afternoon. I think we'll learn

more about Tony Oliver from his wife than we ever will from Dr.

Erwin. Don't you?"

"But--"

Abbott's gaze darted from the wrinkled paper in his hand, up to

Mulder, and back again. Mulder recognized the telltale glimmer of

panic in the poor rookie's eyes and fortified the young agent

with a pat on the shoulder and a confident declaration. "Agent

Scully knows how I work. She won't mind."

"Are you sure?"

Mulder plucked Scully's note from Abbott's sweaty grip and tossed

it in a nearby trash can. "Trust me."

____________

"What, in God's name, is that?"

After a day filled with unpleasant surprises, Sheila Solomon's

sudden, shrieking intrusion into the hushed morgue didn't even

merit a flinch from Scully. Though not at such decibels, Scully

had asked the same question when she'd discovered the dark liquid

leaking from Harper's ear canal. Sheila got her answer

immediately. It had taken Scully three hours of lab testing to

confirm that the sticky brown substance she'd found in Randall

Harper's cranium was mud.

"Mud?" Now that the oozing mess in the scale had been identified,

Solomon approached Scully and the body on the table with less

trepidation.

"3.85 kilograms of what is, as far as the lab has been able to

determine, mud from the Mississippi River bottom. Mr. Harper's

brain was somehow removed and replaced with mud, but I still need

to figure out how it was done." She didn't bother to mention that

for most of the day she'd tried to figure that out and had

failed, despite repeated, meticulous examinations.

Scully didn't doubt her fatigue was obvious, but she could have

deluded herself if Sheila, who still looked morning-perfect at

six p.m., hadn't confirmed it. "You look like hell. Are you about

finished here?"

"Almost." Scully looked at the body, the glob of mud in the

scale, the scattered instruments, and realized that "almost" was

overly optimistic. "Maybe another hour, then I have to head back

over to the Bureau." Which would be at least a thirty-minute

drive from the Coroner's office. Her hopes of eating dinner

before midnight were beginning to fade, especially now that a

conversation with the effusive Agent Solomon was in the offing.

"What are you doing here? Did you find something?"

Scully debated sitting in the nearby plastic chair, and while her

aching muscles begged for the reprieve, she remained standing. If

Solomon had to converse across a 300-pound cadaver, she might be

tempted to go with the abridged version of her report.

"I pretty much came up empty. Both Harper and Oliver were Vets,

but Harper served in Vietnam and Oliver was in the Gulf War. No

commonalties of birthplace, schools, girlfriends, zodiac signs

..."

Solomon's voice trickled away as Scully began replacing organs

into the body cavity. The wet slurp of Harper's liver sliding

into place was the only sound in the room until Scully prompted

the distracted agent. "Go on."

Sheila unlatched her gaze from the lung in Scully's hands and

began to shuffle through her notes. "Oliver's father and

Harper's mother died on the same date, but two years apart, and

both men bought their cars at the same Ford dealership, but

different models from different salesmen in different years."

"You got all that from a computer search?"

"And a few phone calls."

"You could have made one more and saved yourself a trip all the

way over here." Scully nodded toward the cell phone on the

counter--the one that had brought so much bad news earlier in the

day. She'd repeatedly thrown acid glares at the damned device

while she worked, furious with it for ringing in the first place,

livid because it didn't ring again. It was a wonder it hadn't

burst into flames from the heat of her loathing.

Sheila laid her papers on the counter and began to pace. Contrary

to her normal, confident stride, her steps were tentative.

Nervous. So was her voice. "I wanted to talk to you about

something. In person."

With the turn in the conversation, Scully stripped off her latex

gloves and obliged her body's desire to sit. "Okay."

"Why are you here, Agent Scully?"

"Here? The morgue?"

Solomon stopped her restless pacing, but kept a room's width

between her and Scully. "No. St. Louis. This case. Why are

you here?"

"Agent Solomon, I've had a really bad day." Scully corralled

some maverick strands of hair and tucked them back into her

ponytail. "Help me out and cut to the chase."

"I heard a rumor that you're being considered for the vacant ASAC

position."

Scully was secretly pleased to note that Sheila Solomon did,

indeed, have sweat glands, though the woman's anxiety was wasted

on this particular rumor. "I'm not sure where that came from,

but--"

"I don't mean to imply..." Sheila added quickly, because it

seemed a requirement that she include an apology in every

conversation. It came as no surprise when she launched into

another one. "It's not that I don't think you're a good candidate

for the job, and if you get it, I'll certainly give you my full

support, it's just that--"

"You want that job for yourself."

Apparently emboldened by Scully's reaction so far, Sheila crossed

the murky sea-green tile and sat down beside her supervisor.

"I've worked hard for the Bureau, and I've done well. You know,

I hear all the crap about how I only get promoted to fill an

Affirmative Action quota--they could promote a black or a woman,

but if they promote a black woman it's like getting a double word

score in Scrabble."

Scully would have laughed, but she knew the bitter truth of what

Sheila was saying. If a woman failed in the Bureau, there were

always whispers that she'd failed because she was a woman. If

she succeeded, those same small minds speculated that she'd been

given an unfair advantage. The sexist obstacles were treacherous

enough without having to contend with the pitfalls of racism.

"Nothing--" Sheila pounded her fist against her thigh for

emphasis, "--has been given to me that I haven't earned, Agent

Scully, and I think I've earned this promotion."

If this woman ever decided to give up law enforcement, her

passionate speech-making would be a boon to the ministry. At the

moment, however, she was preaching to the converted.

"When this case is finished, Agent Mulder and I are going back to

D.C. Until your SAC suggested I use that vacant office, I didn't

even know there was an open position, but I assure you, I have no

plans to pursue it."

All the pent-up nervousness spilled out in a rush of words.

"Thanks, Agent Scully. I feel so much better."

This female solidarity was fine, up to a point, but Scully felt

it was time to gently reassert her authority. "Don't thank me. I

appreciate your candor, but if I had been seeking that promotion,

I wouldn't have stepped aside just because you asked me to."

"I know. I've been watching how you work, and I have to admit,

you'd make a hell of an ASAC. That's what had me so worried."

Scully wasn't used to such frank admiration from another agent.

This seemed as good a time as any to change the subject. "Have

Agents Mulder and Abbott reported in yet?"

"They weren't back when I left." Sheila stood and looked at her

watch. "That was about an hour ago. They ought to be back by

now."

Scully pulled herself to her feet and grabbed a fresh pair of

gloves. She eyed her cell phone, considered the conversation

that would ensue if she called Mulder right now, and decided that

with rank should come the privilege of procrastination. "Sheila,

do me a favor and call the receptionist at the Bureau. Ask her

to have Mulder and Abbott wait for me in my office."

"Do you need me there, too?"

"No. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Agent Scully."

Solomon's departing pleasantries were drowned out by the moist

gurgle of mud being poured from a scale, and the chatter of

Scully's own thoughts as she rehearsed for her meeting with

Mulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a Twinkie that did me in.

I'd always thought immunity to senseless tears was somehow

connected to breast size, otherwise someone with a drawer full of

"My First Bras" would weep uncontrollably every time she walked

past Victoria's Secret. I've never misted up during a greeting

card commercial, never sniffled through a mushy movie, and I've

certainly never been overcome by a piece of cream-filled sponge

cake.

The last time I cried honest-to-goodness tears was the night of

my senior prom when Uncle Cletus ran over my foot with his 1975

Buick. In retrospect, I believe something more divine than Uncle

Cletus' size 14 wingtips was pressing down on that gas pedal.

God, in His wisdom, knew the young, impressionable minds of the

Class of '88 weren't ready for Charmin Jane Zullman in a

hoopskirt.

When you're swimming in Pepto-pink taffeta and your foot is the

size of a basketball, crying is not only allowed, it's expected.

But when you start blubbering over snack food, it's time to check

your medical plan for the inpatient psychotherapy deductible.

There were a lot of heartfelt apologies during Trent's

disciplinary conference, though I don't think it bodes well for

future promotions that I was the one doing the apologizing.

Trent, bless his heart, literally and figuratively held my hand

through the whole miserable ordeal. His only comment on the

reprimand I'd written was that his ten-year-old nephew had better

penmanship. When he signed at the bottom, I pointed out, as I

often do, that he writes all loopy and flowery like a girl. We

were back on familiar ground and I knew we were going to be okay.

We spent the rest of the afternoon plotting our revenge on Old

Blue Hair. At 4:30, I hand-delivered Trent's reprimand to Mrs.

Schnepf; I wanted to take one last look at those beady mud-

colored eyes.

When I got back to my desk, there it was: a package of Twinkies,

its wrapper decorated with little hearts drawn in felt-tip

marker.

It was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.

All right, it's the only romantic thing anyone has ever done for

me.

Trent was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness, because I sat at my

desk and cried like a baby until well past 5:00. I'm still not

sure why I cried. Maybe it's because Trent showed me today that,

despite everything, nothing has changed between us. Or maybe

it's because I couldn't stop tracing those tiny hand-drawn hearts

on a Twinkie wrapper, and thinking nothing will ever be the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Get out of my chair, Mulder."

There was no affection in her tone. No teasing. No anger. Her

words were without color, the statement on her face just as

neutral. He'd never known Dana Scully to be this unreadable, but

Mulder was troubled by the implication. He eased away from the

big leather chair and joined Abbott on the sycophant side of the

desk.

Scully let silence fester while she sorted through phone messages

and notes. The waiting was making Abbott restless, and he fussed

with his tie -- twisting it, letting it unfurl, abrading Mulder's

nerves with the silk-on-silk noise.

Mulder entertained the fleeting notion that his weary partner had

forgotten her responsibility to initiate the discussion. He was

poised to remind her when she set aside the papers, straightened

in her chair, and erased any doubt that the delay was

intentional. Scully clearly knew who was in charge.

"I got a call today. A couple of calls actually." The monotone

still controlled her voice, but anger crept into her eyes and, at

the moment, those eyes were focused on a suddenly pale Nelson

Abbott. "Can you guess what they were about, Agent Abbott?"

"No, ma'am." The words were mouthed more than actually spoken.

"The first was from Dr. Jacob Erwin at Infinity Aerospace. He

was upset, understandably so, at having wasted his morning

waiting for the FBI agents who never arrived for their

appointment."

She hadn't yet released Abbott from the choking grip of her

glare, and continued, heedless of the young man's struggle to

find a voice for his excuses. "At that point, I was concerned

that two agents under my supervision had missed such an important

appointment. Well, more than concerned."

For the first time she cut her glance toward Mulder, and laid

herself bare for him to see how he'd hurt her. "Very, very

worried."

Just as quickly, her focus was back on Abbott. "I immediately

started to dial Agent Mulder to find out if you two were okay,

but before I could punch in his number, my phone rang again. I

thought my conversation with Dr. Erwin had been unpleasant, but

it was nothing compared to the discussion I had with Julie

Oliver. Well, discussion isn't really the right word. It was a

little too one-sided for that. Oh, wait, I took some notes."

She didn't need her damned notes and Mulder knew it. She'd drawn

blood and was merely taking extra time to watch the youngster

suffer. After some prolonged paper-handling, she produced a page

of handwritten scribbles. "Here they are. Mrs. Oliver said

that two FBI agents," she looked up from her notes to confirm

with Abbott. "That would be the two of you, correct?"

Nelson remained frozen, so Scully continued without his assent.

"She said the two of you showed up at her house asking questions

about her husband. Specifically, about alien abduction

experiences, connections with satanic cults, whether he'd ever

demonstrated any abilities with telekinesis, teleportation, that

sort of thing. Is this true?"

In a last-dying-breath kind of rattle, Nelson managed a "Yes."

"Was any of this your idea, Agent Abbott?"

Mulder finally threw the drowning man a lifeline. "No, Scully,

it wasn't Abbott's idea. Give him a break."

She spared Mulder a curt nod of acknowledgment, but Scully wasn't

quite finished with Abbott. "This kind of insubordinate conduct

merits a written reprimand."

"Yes, ma'am."

Now, in Mulder's opinion, she had gone too far. "Scully,

that's--"

"But under the circumstances, I will only insist on your

assurance that it will not happen again. When I give you an

order, you will follow that order regardless of what another

agent may suggest. If you don't, I won't hesitate to take the

appropriate disciplinary steps. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." Abbott's fingers began to relax their white-

knuckled grasp on the arm of the chair.

"I'd like to speak to Agent Mulder privately. I'll see you at

eight o'clock tomorrow morning, Mr. Abbott."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." What Abbott lacked in

grace-under-pressure, he more than made up for in escape speed.

The door banged closed behind him with a thunderclap of sound: a

warning to all those within hearing of the storm to come.

____________

End "Paper Saints" part 5/15