xfc: NEW Proxy VI by shawntaw
formysunshineboy
Title: Proxy VI
Author: shawntaw
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU, MSR implied, major SA and some S/Sk UST (this story ends
in MSR eventually don't worry)
Disclaimer: They're not mine, although I think I might've done a
better job exploring the depths of some of the secondary characters...
Spoilers: Um, Season 8, I guess.
Summary: Closure. Possible career changes. Home. That's all I will say.
feed the author at shaw...@hotmail.com :)
***************************************************************************************************
It was only after she arrived at the basement that she remembered she
didn't work there anymore. It was so quiet as she stepped off the
elevator. It felt sacred - like church - as she walked down the
short hallway to the basement office.
The nameplate was still there; she had wondered if it would be. She
had been able to hold on to the x-files for a very small time after
Mulder's disappearance...until word came from above that it was being
shut down. Noone could tell her exactly why.
Her fingers traced Mulder's name on the door as she thought. *And now
I work for that idiot Kersh, Mulder. Can you believe that?*
Scully pushed the door open and only the click..clack..click..clack of
her heels reverberated in the small room. She flipped on the light.
It was empty. Scully closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
She knew it would be and this was precisely why she hadn't visited the
x-files office until now. Until she felt led here by circumstance and
fate.
When she opened her eyes again and realized she was staring at
Mulder's "I want to Believe" poster, she could not hold back the
grateful sob that burst forth from her lips. Scully shakily walked
forward and gently ran her fingertips over each corner where she knew
he must have touched when hanging it on the wall.
"Mulder..," she muttered, sorrowfully.
Scully pried the poster gently from the wall and rolled it up.
Clenching it under one arm, she took one last look at her second home.
A place filled with many memories. Laughter. Debate. Joking. Sorrow.
Anger. Curiousity. Fear. But always he was here. And always he
challenged her mind..her heart. And so she came back. And back. And
back again.
Scully turned and -as was her nature - walked decisively, turned off
the light and shut the door firmly behind her.
Her tip-tapping footsteps receded down the hallway.
She would not return this time. Without him this place was truly empty.
***************************************************************************************************
Daniel Wisson took off his battered cap and scratched his head.
In the middle of his cornfield - like some cotton-picking Hollywood
movie - his corn bowed down in the same direction formed a loose
circle. Inside the circle lay five rumpled, bloodied bodies.
His wife was calling 9-1-1 that very moment.
*Damn,* he thought *Crop circles. Dead bodies?!*
A bass moan sounded suddenly in the dewy morning.
A pained feminine cry echoed after it, followed by another different one.
All the blood ran from Dan's face and he felt sick.
Not all the bodies were dead.
**************************************************************************************************
Kim looked up as Skinner came flying through the reception area on the
way to his office. She quickly stood up and barely got "Good morning,
s-" out before he was already in his office and shutting the door.
She stood perplexed for a moment, greeting the empty room.
"Alriiiight," she commented aloud wonderingly and started for
Skinner's door.
He was at his desk, head in hands, mumbling.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid."
"Sir?" Kim approached him, unsure.
Without lifting his head, he spoke to her.
"Shut the door, please Kim."
She shut it and strode to his desk, seating herself in a chair.
"What's going on?"
He cleared his throat, but kept his head bowed.
"Sometime today, the Director is going to call for me or ask if he can
come here to speak to me. It may very well lead to an OPR meeting and
then my dismissal. This may very well lead to the loss of your job as
well, a fact which I regret deeply, Kim," he sighed.
"WHAT happened, sir?!" Kim was beyond shocked.
He lifted his head and looked at her. He looked weary. "Scully and I
rode up on the elevator together today. Before she went to the
bullpen, she wanted to stop by and see you since she said she hadn't
spoken to you in awhile. We got into an argument," he paused and
sighed again.
"An argument? About what?" She sat on the edge of her chair.
He sadly chuckled, "High heels, of all things. I made a comment about
how dangerous those heels she wears will surely become as she gets
bigger," he laughed, "She HATED that. She's been
getting..hormonal..lately."
Kim was smiling as she pictured Scully ripping into the A.D. She'd
seen her do it before. It was only Skinner's affection for Scully
that ever made him put up with it.
"Anyway..the elevator opened while we were arguing and - lo! and
behold - the damn Director is standing there with a few lackeys to
hear the whole thing," he reconsidered, "Well, he heard enough."
"Are you sure?"
Skinner nodded and stared sadly off in the distance over the tops of
his steepled hands, thinking.
Kim considered her reaction for a moment. She wanted to reassure her
boss. To show her loyalty.
"Think Scully will need a nanny? I know someone that may be available
soon...cheap."
Skinner jolted up straight and looked at her.
His laughter could be heard in the hallway.
**************************************************************************************************
Ambulances surrounded the scene. Cop cars blocked up his driveway.
And now a small line of black cars with tinted windows were driving
through his corn toward the scene.
Daniel had stood by long enough. His wife and children peered
fearfully from the farmhouse window.
"HEY!! Hey, you cain't jus' drive though my damn corn!!!" He blocked
the cars physically and waved his arms. They stopped. Daniel lowered
his arms and stood his ground, defiantly.
A man in a black suit wearing reflective sunglasses stepped from the
back door of the car.
"This is your farm?" he had a calm, deep voice.
"Yes, it is. And you are killing my crop," Daniel made sure to show no
fear, but he just knew these guys were government. He could
practically smell it on them.
"You will be reimbursed for your inconvenience," he pulled a pen and
pad suddenly from an inside suit jacket pocket and Daniel jumped. He
couldn't help it. He and the family had rented "Men in Black" once.
He pointedly did NOT look at the fancy, silver pen as he heard it
click. Daniel did not see the man raise his eyebrow in haughty amusement.
"May I ask you some questions?"
"Yeah," Daniel said, not sure where to look now since he couldn't see
the other man's eyes and wanted to avoid looking at the pen. He
settled for the man's forehead.
"Start by telling me the story of how you discovered this..scene," the
man said smoothly.
Daniel told his story for what seemed like the hundredth time that
morning.
A few yards or so away, an EMT leaned over one of the male victims.
Victim of what, he had no idea. But it was obvious that all these
people were victims of something. Two were dead and the other three
barely alive. He shook his head in disgust.
The man he worked on looked up at him with intense hazel eyes. Most
of his face was covered with an oxygen mask. He was waiting for his
turn to be loaded into an ambulance.
A policeman approached. "Ok, time for this guy's check. I.D.?"
The EMT held up a black I.D. wallet. "You won't believe this," he said
calmly, although he shook inside. The cop took it and flipped it open.
"A fibbie?! You kidding me?" The man with hazel eyes watched him
fearfully. For some reason he was scared. He struggled to sit up.
A picture and some cash flew out and floated to the ground as the cop
flipped the i.d. shut. He picked the photograh up and looked at it.
"Who's she?" he held it out to the struggling man.
"He hasn't spoken. None of them have," the EMT commented softly to the
policeman.
To their surprise, the man ripped the oxygen mask from his face.
He reached out a trembling, scarred hand to clutch the picture and
then held the now creased and balled up photo to his chest. He fell
back to lay on the ground, breathing heavily.
"Home," he scratchily whispered, "Home.."
***************************************************************************************************
Sock it to me! shaw...@hotmail.com
To post, mail to xfc-...@yahoogroups.com
To subscribe, mail xfc-ATXC-...@yahoogroups.com
To unsubscribe, mail xfc-ATXC-u...@yahoogroups.com
Yahoo! Groups Links
<*> To visit your group on the web, go to:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/xfc-atxc/
<*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
xfc-atxc-u...@yahoogroups.com
<*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to:
http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/
Kipler
Go on, go on! :)
--Kipler