From drjudd@rainbow.net.au Fri Aug 30 08:42:55 1996
OFFSPRING
DESLEA R. JUDD
drjudd@rainbow.net.au
Copyright 1996
DISCLAIMER
This book is based on The X Files, a creation of Chris Carter owned by
him, Twentieth Century Fox, and Ten-Thirteen Productions. Fox Mulder,
Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, and a number of lesser characters including
Bill Mulder, Mrs Mulder, Samantha Mulder and her clones, Maggie Scully,
Melissa Scully, Captain Scully, Sharon Skinner, Kimberly Cooke, the
Cigarette Smoking (Cancer) Man, the Well Manicured Man and his offsider,
Frohike, Quiqueg, Gautier, Jean Gautier, Ellen, and Alex Krycek remain the
intellectual property of those parties. A number of other characters are
the author's creation and are copyright, and may not be used without her
written permission. These include but are not limited to Dr Karen
Koettig, Agent Grbevski, Melissa Samantha Scully, Grace Skinner, Clone 1
(Cynthia), Clone 3 (Carolyn), Clone 4 (Catherine), Dr Sam Fieldman, Dr
Paul Sturrock, Dr Marion Pieterse, Wendy Tomiris, Serena Ingleburn,
Amarette, Dr Jillian Maitz, Hallie, and Emily Trent. Any queries
concerning ownership of minor characters not mentioned here should be
directed to the author.
(See Pt 1 for complete spoiler, content, and comments info).
A few spoilers from Pilot, Duane Barry, Ascension, One Breath, Colony,
Endgame, Anasazi, Blessing Way, Paper Clip, Nisei, 7.31, Piper Maru,
Apocrypha, and Avatar.
I've rated this book R just to be on the safe side, but I think it's more
PG-13, in truth. There's some low-level sex (three scenes, more
emotional than anatomical), low-level bad language, low-level violence,
and that's about all.
Comments, good and bad, are welcome; but make sure they're constructive,
please! My e-mail is drjudd@rainbow.net.au, but don't worry if you see
something else in your "reply" header like magna.com, because Rainbow.Net
shares a server with another ISP called MagnaData. And if you think my
work's worth stealing, I'm flattered; but don't even think about it.
Archivists, feel free to add this to your collections; but be sure to let
me know.
OFFSPRING BY DESLEA R. JUDD (5/18)
TWO CONTINUED
Assistant Director's Office
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, D.C.
October 29, 1996
"You wanted to see me, Sir?"
Scully's voice was wooden. Still bristling with fury, it was only
with great self-restraint that she maintained any semblance of calm.
Skinner heard the distance, the barely-shrouded hostility in her
voice, and winced. Still, he thought, annoyed, if she wanted to play
boss-subordinate, he'd play. "Come in, Agent Scully. Take a seat."
Scully did as she was bidden. She waited.
With deliberate nonchalance, Skinner leaned back in his seat. His
look was magnaminous. "Agent Scully, I have reconsidered the decision to
remove you from active duty. The extent of your involvement in active
duty remains at your discretion." He sounded as though he had just
granted her the greatest favour of her life.
Scully looked closely at him. His turnaround was unexpected, to say
the least, and his demeanour puzzling. "Thank you, Sir," she said
cautiously, uncertain of her ground.
He came to himself then. Dammit, he was in the wrong here! What the
hell was he doing, playing mind games with her? Suddenly ashamed, he rose
from his seat and looked away. His voice became regretful. "Don't thank
me, Scully. Thank Mulder. He came to see me - and gave me a talking-to I
thoroughly deserved." He came around his desk and sat on the corner. He
met her gaze, and the professional mask dropped. His expression was
contrite, and a little sad. "Dana, I'm sorry. I should have trusted you
with this decision. I shouldn't have tried to take matters out of your
hands. I was out of line, and I'm sorry."
Scully nodded in acceptance of this. "I'm sorry too, Walter. I
shouldn't have raised our private life in front of Mulder." She smiled
faintly. "I was angry."
He dropped his gaze. "I know." He looked at her once more, then
went to her chair. He crouched in front of her and took her hands. "I
just worry, Dana. I love you and this child you're carrying, and
sometimes I get scared."
She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. "It's going to be okay,
Walter. Please don't be worried."
He looked at her dubiously, but he nodded. "I'll try."
"Promise?" she asked.
"I promise."
3170 West 53 Rd, #35
Annapolis, Maryland
October 29, 1996
There was a knock at the door. "Coming!" Scully called, cautiously
removing first her files, then Quiqueg, her dog from her lap and
depositing them both on the floor. Then, reconsidering, she put the files
on the coffee table.
She checked through the peephole. It was Mulder. <> she
wondered, opening the door. "Hello, Mulder."
"Scully? Can I come in?"
Mutely, she stood aside. He walked past her. She closed the door
and followed him into the lounge room. He sat down, uninvited. She sat
opposite him.
They were silent a moment, before Scully said, "Skinner called me
back in to see him. He said he'd reconsidered his decision and that I
could stay on active duty until I chose otherwise." She paused. "He said
you'd talked to him." Mulder nodded, but didn't elaborate. He sat
uncomfortably for a few moments. Finally, Scully decided to leave him to
whatever he was battling with and made them both coffee. When she came
back to the living room, he rose. She handed him his cup.
He was silent another moment, then blurted, "Scully, I'm sorry. I
guess I was upset that you hadn't trusted me." Scully's features clouded
with indulgent compassion. He went on, "We're friends - aren't we?"
Scully favoured him with a gentle smile. Normally expressive only in
the most crucial of moments, she felt an uncharacteristic urge to hug
him. "Of course we're friends, Mulder; you know that," she said
incredulously. "It has nothing to do with trust. I just - well, I wasn't
sure how I felt about all this. To tell you the truth," she added with a
rueful smile, "I'm still not."
Mulder said hesitantly, "Do you want to tell me?"
Scully turned away from him and sat down. She gestured for him to do
the same. Suddenly reflective, she said, "It was after I was - away.
Skinner stayed with me. He was worried about me. I asked him why he was
so worried, and he told me he cared for me. He said it didn't matter, but
I'd asked."
She stopped short, suddenly confused. Scully herself didn't really
understand what had prompted her to take Skinner into her life. She cared
for him, yes; but she had acted with such impulsiveness. It wasn't like
her. She was normally so methodical and careful. She had no regrets, but
she didn't understand. Finally, she said carefully, trying to sort
through her own motives, "He looked so alone. I felt terribly sorry for
him all of a sudden, with all that he'd been through lately and the way
he's had to try and rebuild his life. And I felt ashamed of the way I'd
treated him when Sharon was attacked. All I could see was this really
good man who was - I don't know, <> - and I'd misjudged him so
badly, left him alone when he needed my friendship the most. I did care
for him, very much. And I was frightened. I felt cut off because I'd
been through this thing I couldn't remember and I didn't understand. I
needed someone. He was there," she said simply. Her tone lost its
reflective quality then. "We agreed that it couldn't go on. The risks
were too high. Disciplinary action, maybe - it's a security risk, of
sorts, you know; an involvement with a subordinate. And I didn't know if
I wanted it to go on. I still hadn't sorted out just what any of this
meant for me. But then I was pregnant. We were careful - but obviously
not careful enough."
"He loves you," Mulder said after a pause.
She nodded, her expression grave. "I know that."
His tone was piercing. "Do you love him?"
Scully frowned. She thought for some minutes, before admitting, "I
don't know, Mulder. It's hard to know when you need someone. You don't
know if it's love or just need. And I do need him. I'm having a child,
and I'm alone. He wants the baby. He's - there." She paused. "I do
love him. But am I <> love? I just don't know." Her smile faded.
"I know I don't want a lover. I don't want someone to worship me and
protect me. I don't want what Walter was offering this morning. I want
respect - equality. I want to be trusted."
Mulder grinned. "That's exactly what I told him."
Scully started, then grinned with him. "Fox Mulder, adviser to the
lovelorn. Tell me, if you're so smart, why don't you have anyone?"
"Because, Scully, you're the only woman I've ever met who wants what
I want. And if we were together, we'd <> each other. I mean, can
you imagine the arguments? 'Mulder, you left the seat up again!'
'Scully, I think it was aliens.' " She burst out laughing. He went on,
"Tell you what, though: if we're both still alone when we're seventy,
we're getting married. What do you think?"
"I think you've got yourself a deal."
Waste Disposal Facility
Kuringai Nuclear Power
Kuringai, Virginia
November 10, 1996
Scully looked at her watch surreptitiously. Wendy Tomiris had spoken
interminably of her relationships with each of the deceased and the feud
that had existed between them over Her Affections. She viewed herself,
apparently, as the martyr of the case; both victims having been set aflame
after their passions had been Ignited by Her. She was one of those people
who think of things momentous and extraordinary in uppercase letters, and
who speaks of them as such.
Scully stifled a yawn. She had been there for over an hour and had
gained precisely nothing. It was her experience that people who spoke
briefly and concisely yielded far more information than their windy
counterparts. Furthermore, their information was more likely to be
relevant and specific. Articulate herself, Scully found the Tomiris woman
to be annoying, and superfluous to the investigation.
Tomiris was a technician, of sorts, at the Kuringai Nuclear Power
Plant. The name was somewhat misleading. It was a power plant, but it
also had a research facility attached. This had been the legacy of
limited funding and adverse publicity to the idea of a separate research
facility. Tomiris, however, was a minor worker in the nuclear waste
disposal facility within the power plant itself. This was where they sat
now, Scully listening to the woman's entire life history - not to mention
all she had ever wanted to know (and most of what she didn't) about
nuclear power. Scully, who had flirted with anti-nuclear activism in her
first year at Berkley, suspected she could tell Tomiris far more than the
latter could tell her. Still, she reflected in mounting irritation; it
was all right. It wasn't as though she had a life, or a job to return to.
She had had nothing of substance to add to the information on the
spontaneous combustion deaths. Scully was starting to believe that the
two victims' link via the Tomiris woman was coincidence - in fact, if you
disregarded Mulder's attempts to spook her, she had thought so all along.
In the absence of anything of interest, Scully amused herself by counting
the number of times Tomiris used the word, "really" in each sentence. It
was her recurring word, interspersed less often by the
harder-to-incorporate "bizarre".
Tomiris was talking about something really bizarre when Scully
realised that she hadn't yet asked any of the questions she had wanted
to. She had gotten as far as the routine paadding, that was all. She
interrupted the woman. "Ms Tomiris," she said, "can you tell me how you
met Paul and Marion?"
Tomiris nodded. "I worked with them, as you know. They were the
best of friends. Paul was straight, and Marion was gay."
"And you?"
Tomiris shrugged ruefully. "I was lonely, and I wanted to get
ahead. Neither loneliness nor ambition know very much about gender. I
suspect they care even less. I got involved with them both."
"And they found each other out?"
"Not at all. They told each other. I hadn't realised they would do
that. But they were much more important to one another than a woman could
ever be. Boy, was that messy. But in the end, they kind of agreed to
share me, if you like. I didn't think it would work, but it has. They're
each other's first priority. If I'd ever made either of them choose, I'd
be the loser, I can promise you."
Scully nodded slowly. "There's been no conflict over that decision?"
"Not for them. For me, it's been a little more complex. It's not
good for the self-esteem."
"Being wanted by two brilliant desirable people?" Scully asked, dubiously.
"The arrangement, if you like to call it that, was reached because
they didn't want to risk their friendship over me. I may be lover to
them, but they're each other's soul mate. I can't compete with that."
Scully winced. She wondered if Skinner ever felt that way about her
and Mulder. "You said they were one another's first priority. That seems
pretty extraordinary to me. They go back a long way. Do you know when
they met?"
Tomiris nodded. "They met at University. Mind you, to hear Marion
talk, you'd think it was the dark ages. She says she was the first woman
to graduate medicine from her university. Doesn't sound like the sixties,
does it? But maybe she meant in her particular specialty, or something.
I never really gave it much thought." She paused. "As far as I know,
they both got work at the lab straight from university. Again, I never
gave it much thought."
Scully gave up. "All right. We might leave it there, Ms Tomiris.
I'll let you know if we find anything. My partner and I are interviewing
Marion this afternoon. She might be in a position to help us."
Tomiris' response surprised her. "Those bastards! Damn it, they
didn't tell me she was conscious! How long has she been awake?"
"Since late last night," Scully said, appalled. "I'm sorry, Ms
Tomiris. I'd have told you myself if I'd known the hospital wasn't being
co-operative."
Tomiris snorted. "Co-operation and same-sex partners don't usually
fit into the same sentence, I'm afraid. Do you know, you're the first
person on the case that's even acknowledged I was her partner? Most of
them just smirk, and the ones that know about the arrangement with Paul
think I'm a slut. But Marion's the best person you could hope to meet.
Paul was nice, but Marion's good, as well, if you know what I mean. I'm
nothing that hot, you know; I'm a bit of a busybody and a gossip and I can
be a bit of a gold-digger, too - but I love Marion. That deserves
respect, at least."
"Yes," Scully agreed softly. "It does."
Andrew Wellings Memorial Burns Unit
Georgetown Medical Centre
Washington, D.C.
November 10, 1996
Mulder met Scully at the hospital.
Marion Pieterse had been moved from intensive care to the burns
unit. She was out of danger, but her recovery would be a long, slow
process. There would be a lot of surgery in the months to come. She was
conscious, more or less alert; but she was also physically and emotionally
traumatised. She had spent much of the preceding night under sedation
after coming to and being confronted with the death of her lifelong
companion and the horror of her own condition. Quite aside from this was
the fact that she couldn't bear to be touched, but it was necessary to
move her from time to time if she was to heal.
"Dr Pieterse?" Scully said, her voice gentler than usual. She hadn't
forgotten that crumbling hand beneath hers.
Pieterse's glance went to her. "You're the woman who put me out."
The crackling, partly grafted flesh would not allow a smile, but there was
gratitude in her voice. "Thank you."
Scully's expression twisted as she moved closer to the grotesquely
shrivelled woman before her. "I'm surprised you feel that way, to tell
the truth," she said softly.
The corners of Pieterse's mouth twitched. "Some people are born to
survive. They want it - no matter what. I'm one of them. So was Paul."
The vague suggestion of a smile faded. Her eyes closed with what Scully
presumed to be painful memory. She shot a pained glance at Mulder.
The moment passed. Pieterse opened her eyes once more, her voice
controlled. "I'm sorry. This has been quite a shock for me."
Mulder nodded sympathetically. "My partner and I realise that, Dr
Pieterse. We don't want to make it worse, but you must understand, we
have to know what happened to you, and why. We won't take much of your
time."
Pieterse grimaced. "Time, I have. Lots of it. I hadn't realised
how isolated in my work I had become. Now, I see that all I had was Paul
and Wendy. Paul's gone, and Wendy hasn't so much as been to see me."
There was bitterness in her voice.
Scully spoke up. "Wendy wasn't allowed to see you whilst you were in
ICU. The hospital failed to notify her that you were conscious. She only
found out when I told her, an hour ago. I believe she's coming as soon as
she can get away from work." She had no affection for Wendy Tomiris
herself, but she had great empathy for the lonely woman before her. She
cleared her throat. "In any case, Dr Pieterse, we wanted to ask if there
was any common denominator between you and Paul Sturrock which might
explain why you both exploded in flames within an hour of each other?"
Marion Pieterse twitched her head in what might have been meant to be
a negative shaking. "None at all, and not for wondering. Spontaneous
combustion is a bit out of my field, of course; but I know enough to know
that this is atypical. And yet -" she broke off, confused, then
continued, "and yet, what else could it have been?"
Mulder spoke up. "Could it have been toxicological? Were you and Dr
Sturrock working with anything suspect? Could you have been exposed to
anything in your experimental work?"
Pieterse's gaze moved to him. "No," she said after barely a second's
thought. "Low level ionizing radiation, for research, of course; but
there was nothing particular about our work which would differentiate us
from any radiology department in the country. Other than that, it was
just DNA."
Mulder had seen the quirks of DNA of questionable origin too many
times to be reassured by this. "What sort of DNA?" he queried. Scully
rolled her eyes. Even if this inoffensive woman had been working on some
sort of alien or mutant DNA with unusual properties, did he really think
she would tell them?
But Pieterse was puzzled by the question. "Well, all types, really.
The normal sorts of combinations you find in the general population. We
don't start with genetic abnormalities, if that's what you mean; we expose
healthy, typical DNA to low-level radiation in varying doses to see if it
remains healthy."
"Only low-level radiation?" Mulder asked. "Therapeutic doses?"
She inclined her head very slightly. "Yes. Higher doses are outside
of our scope, and the labs aren't equipped to do it, anyway." Mulder
glanced at Scully, who nodded slightly to indicate that that was indeed
the case. Suddenly wondering if Pieterse had noticed the exchange, he
looked back at her.
But Marion Pieterse didn't seem to have paid them any heed. She was
staring at the television set, transfixed. She didn't move, even when
Scully called her name. Mulder, annoyed, tapped his foot impatiently. He
knew she had been terribly ill, but why had she suddenly faded out on
them? he wondered.
Scully looked at the television. It was a news bulletin, and there
was a picture on the screen of a rather nondescript elderly woman to the
left of the presenter. Scully wondered if the picture reminded Pieterse
of her mother or another relative, causing her sudden blackout. "...local
news, the name of the country's oldest mental patient, who escaped from a
State facility in Virginia last month, has been released. Serena
Ingleburn, who is a hundred and twenty one years old, has been
institutionalised since 1889, when she was just fourteen. It's understood
that staff were distracted by a small fire. Ingleburn is not considered
dangerous, but in view of her age and her inexperience of twentieth
century life, there are fears for her safety."
Scully raised her eyebrows. "One hundred and twenty one?" she asked
aloud, dubious. "She didn't look a day above seventy. Surely it's a
typographic error on her records."
Pieterse seemed to come to herself. "No, it's true," she said
firmly. Suddenly aware of the two agents' scrutiny, she addded, "I read
about her about ten years ago in one of the journals. She just seemed to
suddenly stop ageing. No explanation was found, so far as I know." She
paused. "I'm sorry. I was interested in the case when it hit the
journals, and I became preoccupied. What were you saying?"
Mulder glanced at Scully and shrugged. "Common denominators between
you and Paul," he prompted. "Ones which might have caused you both to be
set on fire."
A frightened look seemed to cross Pieterse's ruined face, but it was
gone before he could be sure. Her voice seemed to stiffen. "I really
can't tell you anything, Agent Mulder." She paused. "I'm very tired.
Would you mind-"
Scully nodded. "Of course. You'll have someone call us if you think
of anything?"
Marion Pieterse nodded. "Absolutely."
Coming In Part 6: Pieterse's Fountain Of Youth/Ingleburn's Painful Legacy
--
_______________________________________
| |
|Deslea R. Judd (drjudd@rainbow.net.au) |
|"The Owls Are Not What They Seem" |
| - The Log Lady, Twin Peaks) |
|_______________________________________|
(
geocities.com/hollywood)