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Part 6

March 12
Janet and Gary Winter's house
7 PM

"You work for what division?" Janet asked in her 
typically arrogant manner as she led them into the 
living room. She had called while they were still on the 
beach, granting them an audience--in one half-hour. No 
more, no less. There was time for a quick shower for 
two--practical, not romantic, and a change of clothing. 

Scully immediately remembered why she didn't like this 
girl.  It was funny. Joining the science club was 
somewhat of a ground-breaking thing to do in her day. 
Most of the girls did it because they were good at 
science and wanted more of a challenge than what was 
being offered in the classroom. Janet, for all her 
intelligence and career aspirations, did it to get a 
guy. She did it, specifically, for the man who was now 
her husband. Gary.

And even that wouldn't have bothered Scully. But, there 
was a great sense of pretense with Janet. A superiority 
complex that was astounding and made no allowance for 
anyone she considered inferior--which included just 
about everyone she made contact with.
 
Old Gary who only had eyes for cheerleaders in those 
days but who probably succumbed pretty quickly to 
Janet's 'charms' after graduation.  Gary looked tired. 
Almost as tired as the men whose wives were in a coma. 
He still looked nice. Hair graying a little, thinning a 
little, pot belly slowly in progress. But, not bad at 
all.

"The X-files division. We investigate cases that can't 
be easily categorized in normal terms," Mulder piped in.

Janet stopped in the dead center of the room and turned 
in an overly dramatic gesture to the couple on the 
couch.

"Junk cases? Dana--I thought you had high aspirations of 
becoming a doctor. Not a scavenger."

"I am a doctor, Janet. And we are hardly working on 
'junk cases.'  We investigate things that others have 
tended to give up on because of some unusual element in 
them."

"Whatever. I really don't care what the government 
spends their money on. So, you told me on the phone 
about the girls. And, frankly, I had heard some rumors 
about the lushie Vicky and the other two. . .but now you 
think I'm going to be a target? Why? Because of some 
asinine science club? Gary was in it, too. Why aren't 
you warning him?"

"Well, I am, in a way. But we don't think whoever is 
behind this is targeting men."

"Whoever is behind giving someone comas? What kind of a 
doctor did you say you are?"

Mulder's fingers were turning white against the dark 
crimson upholstery. Scully quickly tapped his pant leg  
in reassurance.

"My degree is really not your concern. I am here to 
inform you that rather strange things have been 
happening to women in a group you once belonged to. You 
could possibly be targeted as well. You can take that 
information or leave it. The only thing I would like to 
know is if you've had any strange telephone calls--crank 
calls?"

"No," she said, treating the question with the same 
outraged dignity she would use if Scully had asked her 
if she had vermin in her home.

"There appears to be," Scully hated having to say this, 
even though she really didn't care what Janet thought of 
her, "a female who calls these women. . .these victims. 
. .and tells them they are in hell. This happens a few 
hours before they slip into the coma."

Janet put her hand on her hip and looked at Scully 
sideways.

"And you believe this bullshit?"

"This is what has been happening."

Mulder sat there watching Gary, who said nothing. He 
didn't seem to have much of an expression on his face at 
all. This witch probably sucked all the life out of him.

"Well, it hasn't happened to me."

Mulder stood up.

"Good. And we hope it doesn't. Thank you for seeing us. 
Here is my card. I can be reached any time-day or night. 
If you receive a call, do not hesitate to inform us."

He shook their hands and ushered Scully out of the house 
all within the space of two minutes.

"What a bitch. Was she your very bestest friend in 
school, Scully? 'Cause, you know, I can feel the love."

Scully smiled as she walked toward their car.

"Why do I have this fantasy of the two of us, not having 
showered, sitting on her expensive furniture leaving a 
trail of sand and suntan lotion behind us?"

"You are an evil woman, Dr. Scully. And just where did 
you pick up that degree again?"

"The school of hard knocks."

"Really? I went there, too! What a small, small world. 
Just think, I could have been your 'boyfriend' a lot 
sooner if we had met up then."

She playfully slapped his side as he went around the 
front of the car and got in.




March 13
St. Clare's High School cafeteria
9:45 PM

When Sr. Aggie called last night she had almost dropped 
her casserole pan. Dana Scully. Here in California. Not 
in Washington in a coma, as she assumed her to be. 
Perhaps she never received her message. It was 
impossible for it not to have worked, wasn't it?

Yet, here she was. Sitting in the cafeteria with the 
others, making phone calls about the benefit on 
Saturday. She brought her "companion." What the fuck was 
that supposed to mean? "This is my companion and 
partner. . .Fox Mulder," she had said, almost blushing. 
He was cute, though. Just stood there looking down, 
trying rather unsuccessfully to hide a smile or a laugh 
at his 'partner's' weird choice of words.

Alive and well and not in a coma.

Dana told her she hadn't changed a bit. 

Now, what the hell did she mean by that?



Five hundred phone calls. Split among eight people. It 
really wasn't that bad. They got most of them and except 
for the long, drawn-out explanations for the benefit of 
those who hadn't heard a thing about this case, most 
people were willing to help. Some were even willing to 
show up, knowing full well that there wouldn't be much 
of anything in the way of entertainment.

Candi had arranged with a caterer for free food, and 
Jocelyn arranged for the services of a dj free of 
charge. So, really it was just a matter of decorating 
the gym and collecting money. Someone else found out all 
the legal whys and wherefores of setting up a makeshift 
charitable trust.

Scully went to look at the gym once again to figure out 
the logistics of the tables and chairs they would have 
to rent while Mulder was assembling final lists of  
phone calls they had made during the evening.

Mulder looked at the women of the Alumni Committee. No 
one leaped out at him as being the least bit vindictive. 
One of them had to have been the one to phone Scully yet 
no one gave any indication that they held any grudge 
against her. 

Scully had  looked tired. He could tell what she was 
doing. Trying to remember every single encounter she had 
with one of these girls while he knew that she probably 
was not a "friend" to any of them, any more than they 
would have been a friend to her. They had different 
interests. He could tell that even now. Scully was not a 
social butterfly and each of these ladies were. 

He decided to stir the pot a little.

"So. . .I hear that Crystal had some real troubles 
lately," he dropped casually over the list he was 
highlighting in multi-colored markers, as per Cynthia's 
recommendation. Blue for "at home--will come;" green for 
"at home--can't attend--will send donation;" pink for 
"have to get back to;" yellow for "deadbeat."

"Really? I thought she was quite happy," Naomi said.

"No. Actually, I heard that there was trouble, too." 
Cynthia piped in.

"Her husband was rather vague about it and she only 
hinted at something in her correspondence with Dana," 
Mulder added.

"Well. . ." Jocelyn said.

"Go ahead," Mulder prompted, still working on his list.

"She had this weird thing happen with her e-mail." 

"E-mail?"

"Yes. I heard about it from a hairdresser most of us go 
to. Some people go to the priest. Most of us in town go 
to this woman. She's practically an institution. Anyway, 
a couple of months ago this guy Crystal used to know. . 
.from years and years ago. . .contacted her. They were 
kids together in Coronado. He was a few years younger. 
Anyway, somehow, he tracked down her e-mail address and 
started writing. Sounded normal. . . So, she thought. . 
.what the hell and she agreed to write and catch up with 
their lives over the last twenty years or so. Really, 
she hadn't seen him since she was a kid. Like 12 or 13 
or something but she got nostalgic over this little trip 
back to her childhood days. At first, everything was 
fine. She told him she was married and happy. He didn't 
seem to have any problem with that.

But, as she had told Jane--the hairdresser, he started 
getting weird in a few weeks. No more friendly stuff. He 
was saying that he'd loved her since he was a kid and 
wanted to have a relationship with her. That he was 
miserable in his own marriage and wanted out because 
it's her that he'd always wanted. So, she wrote him 
again and tried to tell him that this was all very 
flattering, yada, yada. And he kept going. Each letter 
getting more weird."

"Really?" Mulder sounded suitably interested.

"Yes. And he threatened to kill himself. At which point, 
she wrote him a rather firm letter telling him that he 
should seek some psychiatric help. That she was sorry 
but she was not responsible for this guy's happiness, or 
unhappiness since they barely knew each other as kids 
and didn't know each other now."

"Then what happened?"

"He killed himself," Candi said, flatly.

Mulder's head shot up from the lists.

"He did?"

"Yes," Jocelyn continued. "Jane said that Crystal was 
beside herself when she found out. And, you know how she 
found out? His wife found the letters and wrote her an 
e-mail saying it's all her damned fault. Can you 
imagine?" 

"That' s awful. So, that's why she had some unhappiness 
recently," Mulder said.

"Sure. Guilty conscience." Candi stated.

"Guilty? Why?"

"Well, for the way she acted. I mean, she should have 
told him something else. Maybe suggest he seek comfort 
with his own wife. She sent a weak man over the edge."

"But. . .that doesn't make any sense. She barely knew 
him."

"She could see he had feelings for her. I mean, he told 
her that much. So, why go stamping on them? What would 
you do if Dana didn't return your affections?"

He smiled. 

"I would trust her and her feelings. Yes, I might try to 
bring out something if I already knew it was there but 
no. . .I wouldn't force feelings on her. Not at all."

Candi looked up and gave him a "yeah, right" sort of 
expression.

From the moment they walked into the school that 
afternoon, the very pretty, strangely accurately named 
Candi had exuded nothing but sweetness and light. He 
took note of the sudden cynicism. He'd have to discuss 
it with Scully later.

End of Part 6