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Coaster Spoilers: Safe up until "En Ami" Mulder frowned as the computer on his table made the same whirring and clunking noises as it did the previous fifteen times Langly tried to access the data from the disk in Frohike's computer. It displayed the same message: M:\ Volume in Drive M has no label. Directory of M:\ File not found. As he watched Scully standing behind the equipment, the lines on his face seemed to deepen, as if in pain. Scully shook her head in disbelief, insisting that something was wrong. Maybe they needed a password. Maybe there was some security protocol that went with the disk that they needed to decipher. "This can't be right. There has to be data on this," she insisted. "Sorry," Frohike said somberly. "We tried everything." Scully shook her head again, and glanced towards the doorway where Mulder was standing, looking to meet his eyes or gage his expression. He turned away, rejecting her silent bid for validation, and walked alone into the kitchen. Scully's eyes stung as she blinked back tears, and as she willed away the lump in her throat, she caught Byers watching her. Byers turned away quickly, regretting his voyeuristic curiosity, and started packing up his equipment. He whispered something quickly to Langly who glanced at Scully and nodded, then he elbowed Frohike and gestured towards the door. Mulder and Scully needed to deal with the fallout alone. ************************ Scully sat on the couch, trying to decide whether to follow Mulder or wait for him to return to her. The anger and disappointment that flickered across his face before he turned away was uncharted territory. She'd seen him angry, she'd seen him beyond despair, but she'd never seen those emotions evoked by her actions alone until today. Regret settled heavily around her, engulfing her in a disorienting fog that made the familiar unrecognizable. She was startled back into clarity by the sound of Mulder's jingling keys. Wordlessly, he walked past her and grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. Without returning her gaze, he left the apartment, punctuating his departure with a sharp slam of the door. Tears followed. How does one defend oneself against lies and deceit so cunning and bold that the truth stands bare and anemic beside it? How do you ascertain innocence from the eyes of the pure and just when you thought you saw repentance behind the hooded lids of a serpent whose soul is older than time? Has anyone else ever wondered whether Judas himself was sorry? ************************* The Smoking Man smiled as he watched the events unfold from a room with a view several buildings away. He set his binoculars aside and smiled. This was, of course, the desired result of his rendezvous with Scully. He was planting seeds. Seeds of doubt. Seeds of regret. Seeds of hope that a life of sacrifice was not in vain. Would these seeds grow into tangled, choking vines of mistrust between two people bound by ties thicker than blood and stronger than justice? Or would they grow into a seductively beautiful flower of hope that was ultimately destined to die because it lacked roots, leaving sorrow and tears in its wilted wake? The specifics didn't really matter if the end result was the same. ************************** I wasn't sure where I was going when I left my apartment. I had an overwhelming urge to run away, but I settled into a brisk but comfortable walking gait. More shocking than my anger at the Smoker for duping Scully was my anger at her for going with him in the first place. She knew the risks, yet she went willingly. Looking at Scully the moment that disk came up empty was like looking at a different person, and it scared me. If she could lose her moral equilibrium, then those of us who are far, far less virtuous are always in peril. I felt myself being suffocated by a blanket of doubt and mistrust that I knew only too well, but I had never thought I'd associate with Scully. I had to leave or I'd drown. ************************** Her tears dried as she sat mired in indecision. Should she go after Mulder? Should she go home and wait for him to call? Lethargy settled over her as she recalled the events of the past few days. Obviously, her secret tapes meant for Mulder had been stolen before he received them. He never did hear her fervent thoughts and observations whispered for him in the dark. He never heard the deep tone of mistrust or the thinly veiled fear in her voice as she spoke about things mundane and things profound on that long car ride into uncertainty. He never heard her outrage. And now her heart was cracking, and he'd never hear that either. **************************** He reached for another cigarette as he got comfortable in his window seat. His plan had been executed to perfection. A cure to every disease known to man? It undoubtedly would be the holiest of grails to a woman who yearned to heal and vowed to ease suffering. Surely she knew that much of mankind's suffering is not only rooted in diseases of the body, but in maladies of the soul as well. Deliver this knowledge through a master in the art of seduction, and the promise of a cure is to a doctor what a kiss is to a lover - a taste and an invitation to the divine. ***************************** He had so many ways to coerce her to go with him. A gun to her head, a promise to remove the technology that made her cancer go into remission, or a threat to harm her family. He was capable of all of these things and more. The more pressing mystery was why Scully was singled out instead of me. Did the Smoking Man know my deepest fear? Taking Scully from me is like removing oxygen from the atmosphere. I would simply cease to exist without her elemental presence. It would have been much more efficient to simply put a bullet through my head. Scully must have had something that the Smoker wanted. ****************************** If Scully had to describe her communications style with Mulder with one word, "efficient" would probably fit the bill. They anticipated each other's thoughts, actions and reactions; they read each others' facial expressions like a cartographer reads maps. Words were often simply too superfluous to get the point across. This is why she told Skinner to tell Mulder "she was fine" when the Smoking Man had her check in at the office. Though it was usually untrue, she'd told Mulder the same so many times that he'd know without doubt that she really meant her situation was compromised. She wished now, that she could have apologized ahead of time for making him worry when she'd know he'd be powerless to help her in any way. Unfortunately, such intentions are often a day late and an inch short. ******************************* He knew she'd be wired. Scully was far too smart and had worked too closely with Mulder to not take any such precautions before she agreed to go with him. So he arranged for the tapes to be "lost." He made sure that she knew that HE knew she was wired, too. A sense of isolation and helplessness would make her more willing to take risks that would justify her journey to begin with. Psy-ops methods had always served him well. Most importantly, Mulder would never quite forgive her for taking such risks. These were the ingredients of a perfect wedge, constructed from equal parts of concern and paranoia. ******************************** The Smoking Man has a "gift" for using a person's strengths to their disadvantage. In his hand, the most seaworthy of ships would suddenly be too heavy to float because of its safety features. So it is with Scully. She not only has the ability and desire to heal people, she needs to do this. How many times have I seen this need first hand? A warm blanket, a finger splint, drops of cold water on my parched and feverish tongue...this is how Scully makes evil retreat. This is how Scully says, "I love you, too." The Smoking Man took Scully's gift and tried to warp it. Every deal he makes is a Faustian bargain. If he gave her the tools to heal anything or everything, even the human race, she would necessarily sacrifice her own humanity. She'd hold God's tools, yet not His wisdom. Humanity suffers for reasons greater than its own, and there is no technology that can identify and explain, let alone cure all which ails the heart. I am glad Scully does not hold that technology, even if it does exist. To wield these tools is to be God, and who can hold God in his arms at the end of the day and say, "Now it is your turn to be comforted and healed?" **************************** When she first returned, Mulder held her tightly, relieved just to see her alive. But as he lifted her chin so he could look in her eyes, guilt interrupted. She looked away and withdrew from his embrace, trying to gather the strength to explain everything that had happened. How could she put this dance with the devil into the proper context? She hadn't told Mulder yet that she probably could have just refused to go, and the Smoker would have slithered on to some other plan. She went willingly, justifying her behavior as being for "the greater good." How could she describe the evening that she herself cannot recall? Something beyond exhaustion hides in the explanation of her waking in a strange bed, apparently undressed and redressed and God only knows what else by the man responsible for her own sister's death. No matter how many times Mulder caresses her with his loving hands, he cannot wash away the tarnish she feels the Smoker left on her skin. When they finally spoke, his voice thick with emotion, Mulder simply asked, "Are you okay?" She could never and would never lie to him. She said, "I'm fine." ***************************** Adrenaline has saved my ass so many times I can't even count, so I should consider it my friend. But it's also overpowered whatever reason and logic I can scrape up to temper my actions often enough that I don't think we'll ever get past the acquaintance stage. When I held Scully in my arms and she pulled away, my first thought was that the bastard hurt her. I'm still not convinced that he hasn't. But I lost it when she said, "I'm fine." She disappears for days with our mortal enemy without explanation, and she offers me two words as an explanation. I steadied her shoulders and forced her to look at me as a million and one thoughts ran through my head. I think my voice cracked when I asked her, "Damn it, Scully, WHY?" ****************************** He knew that Mulder was Scully's real Achilles heel. He prided himself at not having to stoop to taking advantage of that weakness to use Scully to get the disk. She was a beautiful, intelligent and articulate woman, but still flawed. She had faith. She truly believed that she alone could bring an end to human suffering. He knew she'd finally accept a Life Saver candy just as he knew she'd ask him not to smoke in the car. He saved the cherry red one especially for her. A little Thorazine goes a long way. She was unconscious in minutes. He carried her into the house and undressed her as planned. He paused for a while, admiring her silky, flawless skin. Naked and small, her vulnerability took his breath away. She was wired, just as he suspected she'd be. He took the micro cassette and pocketed it. He smiled slightly, anticipating the perverse pleasure he'd enjoy as he listened to her whisper her innermost thoughts saved exclusively for Mulder. Then he dressed her limp body in the satin pajamas he picked out for her. They were quite similar to the ones she packed for herself, save the color. He gently placed her on the bed and between the sheets, brushing her hair away from her eyes, and smiled again. Just when you think your plans are going to hell, fate intervenes with brilliance. ********************** Scully thought that the disk would answer all of Mulder's questions. She thought that he of all people would understand that the benefits of possessing this information far outweighed the risks incurred in obtaining it. He surprised her. He didn't even want to look at the disk. As she sought words to explain her actions, she felt him drifting away. After assurances that she was unharmed, he didn't want to look at her anymore. If remorse was a blanket, she'd have pulled it up over her head and hid under it for days. ************************* I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious as to what was on that disk. It certainly would not be what the Smoker had promised, but maybe it held a clue of some sort. Maybe it would explain why Scully let her guard down and went with this man who she knew was as evil as Satan himself. Maybe it would explain why it took her years to let her guard down with me. ************************* Scully's meeting with Cobra went exactly as planned. If only all of his partners were so reliable. She may have been shocked by Cobra's assassination, but she certainly wasn't surprised. Most importantly, she handed the disk to the Smoker like the good girl she's always been. Her father would have been proud. He felt a pang of loneliness after she left. It's a symptom of his illness, now. As his time grows shorter, he's developed an interest in the mundane things he'll leave behind. A woman's touch. The hope and trust that every new generation coming of age seems to wear on its sleeve. Love. Most fascinating of all is altruism, something he's never quite understood. Dana Scully possesses it in abundance. *************************** There have only been a few times in her life that she's felt a despair so overwhelming that she just wanted to fade into oblivion. Feeling sick from chemotherapy, dying from cancer was one of them. The moment that she'd realized the disk was blank, that the Smoker had duped her, is by far the worst. She had betrayed all that she held sacred. She risked Mulder's trust. She couldn't even tell him how sorry that she was, nor justify her actions as misguided ones meant to help those most in need. She felt that her very presence repulsed him. When he closed his apartment door without acknowledging her, a little part of her died. ***************************** Before I realized how long I'd been walking, the afternoon had become dusk. I must have been gone for hours, yet I was only several blocks from my apartment. I wondered if Scully was still there. I could no longer conjure an image of Scully compromising her ethical core. She didn't have to tell me that she'd never lie to me. I didn't need to tell her that she was the one person that I was absolutely, incontrovertibly certain would never betray me. Our trust in each other had been impenetrable, yet she risked it all. But Scully and I don't communicate like most people. Her risk was not betrayal. It was proof undeniable that the well of her trust runs as deep as my own. ****************************** He'd been sitting in a building across from Mulder's all afternoon. It'd been a gorgeous day with a spectacular view. As his cigarette supply ran low, he was confident that his mission had been accomplished. The three Gunmen high tailed it out of there a half hour after they arrived. Mulder'd been gone for hours. And Scully learned that even a blank computer disk comes at a very high price. ******************************* She'd spent most of the afternoon absently watching television. As the hours dragged on, her hope for an opportunity to explain herself to Mulder was evaporating. She finally summoned the strength to go pack up her laptop and go home. Just as she was slipping into her jacket, the door opened. Mulder and Scully stood there looking at each other awkwardly. She wanted to turn away, the guilt still weighing heavily on her mind, but a softness in his eyes held her still. He closed the door and without breaking eye contact, he removed the disk from her hand. ******************************** "It'll make a good coaster," I told her. She smiled at that idea. When Scully smiles, the worries of the world melt away. Then her smile faded, and she seemed to struggle for words before she managed a weak, but earnest, "I'm sorry." I opened my arms to her and she entered my embrace. I felt a single tear escape from her eye as she rested her head close to my neck. For Scully and me, words have always been secondary to that which cannot lie. Our souls speak and our hearts listen. END
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