DEVIL'S ADVOCATE(4/4)

Wed Oct 16 1996
DEVIL'S ADVOCATE (part 8)
The "Unofficial" X Philes Novel
by:
CHERYL COHEN and ANNIE REED
aka
ImAStinker and FancyKatz @ aol.com

Dana emerged about forty-five minutes later and smiled at
Moorehouse for the first time since they'd met. "He's gonna be okay," she
said with relief. "Thanks for your help. Doc's got him in his 'reserved'
cot snoring away and has promised to keep an eye on him for the next couple
of hours. Fox has a tendency to 'wander' off without informing concerned
parties of his intentions or whereabouts. So if he so much as flinches in
an unauthorized manner, Doctor Johnson has promised to let me know.
Now....where were we before this disaster struck???"
Once again, Moorehouse was impressed. She just finished stitching
up her partner and here she was, raring to go. "Well, I'd say we've got a
least two more people that I'd really like to interview," he replied.
"O'Keefe and Kopec."
"Mrs. O'Keefe You suspect that little old lady? Mulder did, too,"
Dana mused.
"I don't know if I'd call her a 'suspect' or not, but a couple of
people in the gym put her there at the time of Hubbard's accident, and she
wasn't working out." Dana raised one eyebrow at that. What in the world
would Mrs. O'Keefe be doing in the gym....she wasn't even one of the
finalists, so she wouldn't have been in there looking for clues.
"Unfortunately, I have no idea where either one of them might be
at this very moment," Moorehouse continued. "I haven't seen Mrs. O'Keefe
or Kopec since the incident in the gym. From what the stewards tell me,
Mrs. O'Keefe seldom leaves her room. I'll bet ten to one odds that Kopec
is warming a bar stool somewhere.
Bar hopping....terrific. Just what she needed on top of the day
she'd already had. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off
the headache tht was threatening to descend.
Moorehouse looked at her closely. He was getting to know her well
enough now that he could see the tension in the tight lines around her eyes
and her mouth. "Hey, how about a break before we get going again?" he
suggested. "I don't know about you, but I could use a little fresh air."
Dana readily agreed, and they headed for the pool.

The follower was gaining ground, growing stronger with time. It
still had trouble sensing the hunter, but with the unexpected help of one
of the beings on this vessel, it had nearly caught him this last time. But
at the last second the hunter had backed off from this being and fled into
the darkness of the ship. The follower had paused just long enough in its
pursuit to register the presence of the observer. That in itself was
surprising....the follower knew that its actions, as well as those of the
hunter, were being observed, but never before had it seen the observer.
Something was different this time. The follower drew stength from that
fact...maybe it meant that this time it would be victorious over the
hunter, that its millenia-long struggle would be at an end. The follower
did not want to contemplate the alternative.

Dana sat down at a table by the pool to momentarily rest her
feet....even though they hadn't blistered like Mulder's, they were still
sore. She idly picked up the National Inquisitor and thumbed through the
rag while Jake went to get her a desperately needed iced tea. She was just
about to toss it on the chair next to her when an article caught her
eye...an article in the scandal sheet section written by none other than
Karl Kopec. This wouldn't have normally been a big deal since Kopec *did*
work for the infamous tabloid....but the article was about Oneida Darkhorse
and her 'sordid' love affairs. Dana quickly read the article.
Perhaps this was the connection that they'd been searching for. Of
course, all of these people would have known each other from taking this
cruise for the last three weeks. But this paper was last months issue.
Which meant that Kopec had known about Oneida *before* he'd met her on the
ship. And he'd written one damnable article about her various sexual
escapades. How odd that Oneida didn't seem to know about the article or
the man who wrote it. Odder still was the fact that everbody's brother
seemed to know about her affair with Jason and her pregnancy, but Kopec
didn't even appear to be the least bit interested with this new, *really
scandalous* aspect of the story. Why not? Unless....unless someone had
paid him to keep his mouth shut about that. And if he took monery to keep
himself quiet, it wasn't that big of a stretch to believe that he would
take money to keep someone else's mouth shut...maybe two other mouths.
Dana tried to think of all the times she'd seen Kopec on this
cruise, to visualize what he'd been doing. This little exercise only
served to point out to her that she hadn't seen that much of Kopec at all
except when he was hanging around the murder scenes.
When Jake returned, Dana showed him the article and voiced her
suspicions about Kopec. "I don't know, Jake. I just can't shake the
feeling that Karl Kopec is somehow involved in all of this. Maybe we
should check him out next and see what we can turn up." If Mulder were
here, he'd probably have made some incredible leap in logic and had the
whole thing worked out already....sometimes his 'insight' really *was*
'spooky'. Dana had to remind herself that this wasn't Mulder -- this was
Jake -- and she wasn't exactly sure what his reaction to her theory would
be. So she waited patiently for him to sort things out and give her his
opinion.
Kopec, huh? Jake found himself really liking that idea. There was
a certain neat logic involved here. Karl'd been seen in the gym, too,
right before Hubbard died. Put two and two together, and you had
opportunity and motive. The little weasel probably *was* responsible for
at least two of these so called accidents. The thought of cuffing and
arresting that rumor-monging terd warmed him from the top of his head
right down to the tip of his toes. He grinned at Dana and nodded, "Well,
if you have a hunch about this guy, maybe we should just pay him a
'friendly visit' and see what kind of slime spews outta this nut when we
crack him."
Dana viewed Jake with a patient skowl. "Moorehouse, you're just so
damn descriptively poetic...Mulder can't hold a candle to you in terms of
grossness."
"Hey, was that a compliment?" he asked gruffly.
"Who the hell knows," she sighed. "Let's go find Kopec....on
second thought, maybe we should wait for Mulder. He's one of the best
interviewers I have ever known....and Jake, I'm not just saying that
because he's my partner....it's true. I'd feel a lot better if he could be
there."
Jake snorted and replied, "hell, I know the kid's good....but it's
only been an hour since you were stitiching his guts back together, and I
doubt Doc Johnson's gonna let him outta his sight for a least another hour.
By that time Kopec could very well ditch the evidence...if, of course,
there is any.... and we'd be left with nothing but suspicions that we can't
prove. I think Mulder would tell you to 'go for it'."
"Well, in that case Detective Moorehouse, what do you suggest we do
first...a little 'bar hopping' or a quick visit to Kopec's quarters?" she
inquired, knowing from Jake's reaction to the reporter that he'd probably
already done a study of the man's habits.
Jake rubbed his stubbled chin, checked his watch. "I'd say he's
more than likely visited every lounge and bar on the ship by now and is
'resting' in his cabin," he replied thoughtfully. "But that's just a
hunch."
"Now *that* I can deal with," she laughed suddenly. "My partner
puts a great deal of faith in 'hunches' and I hate to admit it, but most of
the time.....he's right. We'll play your hunch, Jake....Let's go."

Mulder could sense the creature even within his drug-induced
dreams. It stalked the ship's corridors, unseen by the innocent victims
that it hunted. At first, Mulder had feared this evil monster, this horrid
being that fed off of the terror and pain of those it destroyed. But
now...now, even though there was still fear in his heart, there was also
anger. The instinctive protectiveness of his nature took over and a
righteous rage overpowered his fear.
He remembered seeing the 'other' shadow that had pursued this
predator...he could also feel its presence close by....and was surprised to
find that it reminded him...of himself. He sensed its determination to win
this final showdown....and something inside of him knew that it was
'indeed' final. He wanted to help, he *needed* to help...he could not
simply stay still and silent on the sidelines while this momentous battle
raged on about him, not while innocent people were being slaughtered.
He opened his mind to the other, begging for an opportunity to help
it in this battle....and his call was answered. To his surprise, he found
that he was not 'helpless'...he could do something, and he would. For all
of the "other's" great strength, it could not always locate the
hunter....but Mulder could. He could 'feel' his presence in the
air...smell the stench that radiated from this being. He didn't know
why....but he could.
But there is danger here, the follower warned. The hunter knows
you can sense him....he will attempt to lure you to destruction. But
Mulder didn't care about that....it was his job to protect the innocents
from predators, both from within and without this world's physical
boundaries. He was not about to stop now. Mulder would follow the
hunter....and so would the 'other'. If the 'other' needed him as 'bait',
he would comply....no other innocent beings need die at the hands of this
monster. It will be soon, the follower told him. They were nearing the
center...and the hunter would come to eliminate him, for a creature as evil
as the hunter could only be returned to hell while they were in the center.
And the hunter would risk no threats to his continued existence in this
world.

Fox awoke slowly, remembering his vision. He could not remain
here....there was so little time left and so much to do. He was stiff and
in a great deal of pain, and he winced as he carefully pushed himself up
from the cot into a sitting position.
The noxious odor of burned flesh permeated the room. Mulder
twisted his body slowly to discover the source. The partially blackened
figure of Dr. Johnson was stiffly propped up against the bottom cabinets of
the washup sink, the crackling hiss of the sterilizer's electrical voltage
as it met filling the air with ozone. Fighting the urge to vomit, Mulder
stood swaying unsteadily on his feet. He put out a hand on the counter to
steady himself and noticed the words scrawled on the countertop. He read
the message that had been written into a thick layer of powder that had
spilled over the counter's gleaming formica surface.

"Dana's doomed...in the engine room"

"Asshole thinks he's a fucking literary giant," he mumbled under
his breath, with disgust. "He wants me to go to the engine room," he
shouted out loud to what appeared to be an empty room...but he *knew* the
'other' was there...he could almost see him, too.
"Just who do you think you're talking to, my dear boy?" Dr. Jay's
voice echoed behind him.
"You know damn well who I'm talking to, so don't feign ignorance
with me," Mulder growled. "If I turn around are you still gonna be there,
or am I gonna have to look at empty space again?"
"Oh, I'll still be here," Dr. Jay mused. "Not too fond of my
exits, eh?"
Mulder turned around and faced the little man. "Oh, I'd say I'm
about as fond of your exits as your 'entrances'. You know about all of
this don't you? Who the hell *are* you? What is this 'thing'?"
Dr. Jay thought for a few moments, pondering exactly how much he
'could' tell Mulder, and came to a decision. After all, the boy was right
in the middle of this situation, like it or not, and as with all
intelligent beings, he did have the right to know at least something about
what he was getting into.
"Yes....I do know something about what's happening here," Dr. Jay
admitted with a sigh. "I am what you might call an 'observer'. I am not
supposed to get involved, only report the outcome. And you, my friend, make
that *extremely* difficult."
Dr. Jay looked over at the charred remains of the ship's doctor,
shaking his head sadly. "This 'thing' as you call it...the hunter....well,
I suppose it is somewhat akin to *your* version of an escaped 'serial
killer'. The 'other'--the follower, as you think of him, performs the
same task as you do in this dimension....and I must say that he does his
job with the same ruthless determination. You would like him. In another
reality, the two of you would be friends. Perhaps that is why it took time
from its pursuit to try and warn you," Dr. Jay mused.
"You mean those messages in the mirror, and the hallucinations I
had involving danger, were warnings from the follower?" Mulder asked.
Dr. Jay shook his head yes. "And as you have no doubt deduced,
this time and place is the follower's last chance to capture this fiend and
return him to his prison. I had not expected you to be involved with this
my dear boy...I should have known."
With a stern look of resolution, Mulder accepted Dr. Jay's
explanation. He'd always had a feeling that the little man wasn't quite
what he appeared to be. He found that the revelation of the reason behind
Dr. Jay's presence here was not in the least bit surprising. He gestured
toward the countertop. "This thing says Dana's in the engine room...and it
wants me there."
"It's a trap, you know," Dr. Jay commented.
"Of course I know," Mulder snapped. "I may not be of a 'higher'
alien intelligence, but I'm not a total retard either."
"Don't sell yourself short," Dr. Jay countered. "You don't have
all the information."
"In any case, if this thing wants me....it's gonna get me....Let's
help the 'follower' go kick some ass. Are you coming or not?" Mulder asked
tersely. He didn't wait for a reply, just stormed out the door, holding on
to his side. He'd begun to bleed again, but he was beyond noticing.
"Right behind you, dear friend," Dr. Jay retorted.

Dana and Moorehouse stopped in front of Kopec's cabin. Moorehouse
moved over to the side...covering their back, Dana noticed with approval.
She knocked on the door. "Mr. Kopec, this is Dana Sc....Mulder. Could I
have a few words with you, please?" There was no immediate response to her
knock.
They waited patiently for a few minutes. Dana was just about ready
to try knocking again, only a little harder this time, when the door slowly
opened, revealing a very disheveled and obviously hungover Karl Kopec.
He smiled generously when he saw Dana, but as the door opened wider
to reveal Moorehouse, a decidedly ominous frown appeared on his face.
"What do you want?" Kopec growled. "I'm a very busy man."
"May we come in and ask you a few questions?" she asked politely.
"Sure, why not? He's a cop," Kopec said, gesturing at Moorehouse.
"He's gonna come in one way or another, so we might as well make this
cordial....Like I said, what do you want? Decide to pool your resources to
solve this little mystery?"
"Something like that," Jake grumbled.
"We'd like to ask you about your relationship to Oneida Darkhorse,"
Dana said in a leading tone.
"What relationship?" Kopec asked nervously. "I met the woman on
the cruise...and she died...that's about it."
Dana walked over toward the small dresser that sat along the far
wall. On it she noticed a small motion sickness patch, unused. Now that
she thought of it, she'd *never* seen Kopec *ever* wear one during the
entire cruise....what was this one doing on his dresser? She bet that if
they searched his room, they'd find the rest of the package of Scopolomine
patches. And she had a 'hunch' that on closer inspection, they'd find the
screwdriver that ushered in Jason Hubbard's demise too. It had to be about
money, she thought. As far as she could tell, he had no ' personal' reason
to off the couple.....unless someone had threatened him or 'paid' him in
some way.
Moorehouse cut in, "if you didn't know her before the cruise, how
is it you were able to write a very 'detailed' article in your rag mag last
month about the woman's love life?"
"You'd be surprised how much I can write about someone I don't
know," Kopec insisted. "All it takes is a few interviews with the right
people, a little money in the right hands...My boss isn't exactly a
stickler for getting an 'official' reply from whoever he decides to skewer.
I never had to meet the lady."
"So much for honest journalism, eh, Kopec?" Moorehouse scoffed.
"Mr. Kopec, do you get seasick often?" Scully interjected. "I
didn't notice you ever wearing a patch." She held up the offending patch
and examined it more closely for effect. "You wouldn't happen to have a
screwdriver just lying around in here too...would you?"
Kopec paled at the question...Dana could smell the sour stench of
alcohol pouring off the man as his forehead broke out in a cold sweat. She
had him on the run and decided to pull what she referred to as 'Mulder'.
"Mr. Kopec....why did you kill Oneida and Jason?" she asked with positive
certainty.
Kopec's knees nearly buckled when he heard the question...."You
think *I* killed those two?" he managed to ask through his suddenly dry
throat. His eyes darted back and forth between Jake and Dana, looking for
all the world like a deer caught in the headluights of a speeding car.
"You can't be serious!"
Moorehouse glanced over at Dana before he returned his attention to
Kopec. "Oh, I think we're pretty serious alright. How about you? Are
*you* serious?" Jake asked, advancing on the cringing reporter. "Murder
is a serious business, Mr. Kopec. And Mrs. Mulder there is holding some
serious evidence that can put you away for a long, long time, you scumbag.
So if you've got something to say to us, you'd better say it quick, before
I suddenly remember that we're in international waters and I don't have to
answer to my captain for my actions."
Kopec quit backing up when his butt hit the cabin wall. He felt
trapped....literally. Moorehouse may have been about the same height as he
was, but the detective was bulkier and obviously had a lot of practice
using that bulk to his advantage. Karl didn't know how he'd get out of
this one. Considering what had nearly happened to him this morning, maybe
a nice, safe jail cell wouldn't be so bad. At least he'd still be alive.
He was spared that decision when his cabin door flew open and a
yellow blur pounced into the room and bounded onto his bed, yowling at the
top of its lungs. Dana burst out in a fit of sneezes, and Moorehouse turned
around to glare at the intruder. Kopec saw his chance, sidestepped
Moorehouse and flew out the door and down the hall. Jake took off in
pursuit. Dana shoved the patch into her pocket and followed Moorehouse,
sneezing and trying to see through her watery, itchy eyes. Damn cat, she
thought.
A lone figure appeared in the doorway of Kopec's cabin and entered
the room. "Bad kitty...now look what you've done," Mrs. O'Keefe scolded as
she retrieved the patches from the dresser. She rummaged quickly through
the drawers until she found the screwdriver, which she placed in the pocket
of her sweater, along with the package of patches. "I don't believe Mr.
Kopec will be needing these, do you?" she mumbled in an unfamiliar gravelly
voice. The cat yowled in response. "No, I didn't think so," she said with
a sinister laugh.
She picked up the cat from the bed, her fingers playing absently
with its jeweled collar. "Come on, you worthless fleabag. Although you
did earn your keep this time," Mrs. O'Keefe said, scratching the cat under
its chin. The cat flattened its ears against its skull, its eyes dark and
round with feline anger, a growl building in the back of its throat.
"Let's go take care of some 'unfinished' business.....I do believe I know
where he'll go."
Mrs. O'Keefe walked hurriedly down the corridor in the opposite
direction. On arriving at her destination, she expertly circumvented the
lock on Oneida Darkhorse's old cabin and slipped inside.

Mulder painfully picked up his pace in an effort to get to the
engine room before what Dr. Jay referred to as "the hunter" could harm
anyone else...specifically Dana. The thing had mentioned her by name and
he had no doubt that it would use her to draw him out. What the hunter
didn't know was that he wouldn't come alone. He would bring the 'other'
and Dr. Jay with him. Granted, Dr. Jay was ordered to remain neutral. But
somehow he also sensed that his unusual friend was growing dissatisfied
with his 'duties' as they were dictated to him. In the end, and if it
became necessary, Mulder felt that Dr. Jay might surrender to his urge to
act. Mulder sincerely hoped that wouldn't be necessary...not only for his
friend's sake, but also for his own. Because if Dr. Jay had to act, that
would mean that Mulder couldn't, and there was only one thing that was
going to prevent him from fighting this battle...his own death.

Karl stopped in a darkened hatchway for a moment to catch his
breath. He should have taken up aerobics years ago, he thought. You never
know when you're gonna have to run for your life, and being in shape would
have made it a hell of a lot easier. Although in his case, adrenalin had
been a good substitute. He risked a peek into the corridor...no one seemed
to be following him. Maybe he'd lost them. Now if he could only stay lost
until this damn ship docked. Once on dry land, the contacts he'd made over
the years would help him stay lost permanently. He'd just have to stay
alive until then.
His contacts....he snorted with disgust. One in particular had
certainly played him for a sucker this time around. Sure, the money had
been an incentive, but dangle a good job in front of him...that was the
real carrot. A job covering the city beat for The Washington
Post....heaven for someone like him who'd been buried in the supermarket
tabloids for more years than he cared to remember. Well, he could kiss all
that goodbye now....he'd be lucky if he wound up pumping gas at some dusty
truckstop in the middle of the Nevada desert.
He had to find someplace to hide for the rest of the cruise, but he
was a little short on options. His fingers dug around nervously in his
pockets.....hell, he didn't even have his favorite little flask with him.
This was gonna be a dry couple of days. Then his fingers tightened around
the key. That was an idea....maybe he could go there. Who would think to
look for him in the cabin of a dead woman?

Moorehouse stopped in front of the door and nodded to Dana. "Are
you sure about this?" he asked with just a tinge of doubt.
"I'm not *sure* about anything," she replied with a shrug, "but
what could it hurt to check?"
"Not a damn thing, Ms. FBI....Not one damn thing..." he grunted as
he kicked in the door to Oneida Darkorse's cabin. "Looks like you were
right after all....he's definitely here...." Jake stepped back and pointed
to the body that was suspended only a few inches from the floor, swaying
gently from the ceiling fan. "Guess he didn't want to go to jail," he
commented with a snicker.
Dana stepped forward and studied the body more closely and then
began to wheeze and sneeze...again. Shit. "Jake," she managed to get out
between sneezes, "he was dead before he was hung....someone else killed
him. Believe me, I'm a pathologist. There are certain physical things
that happen when a person is hung...and they're *not* present in this
case." She sneezed again and her eyes began to water.
"Getting a cold or something?" Jake asked after her third round of
sneezing began. She sounded terrible.
"No, I just have an allergy to....cats..." she trailed off,
thinking about what her body was telling her. She'd had an attack when
Mrs. O'Keefe's cat had barged into Kopec's cabin. A quick look around
Oneida's cabin confirmed that they were the only ones here, along with
Kopec's gently swaying body. "Jake, the only person on this ship with a
cat is Mrs. O'Keefe and now I'm sneezing my head off...Her cat was here,
and not too long ago either." Another sneeze interrupted her. "I don't
usually get this bad unless I'm in the same room as a cat....or if a cat
was just in the same room I'm in. And if that damn cat was here, so was
Mrs. O'Keefe." She sneezed again. "I gotta get out of here or my eyes are
gonna swell up and I won't be any use to anybody. Trust me...it's not a
pretty sight."
Moorehouse and Dana moved back out into the corridor, shutting the
door on the grisly sight. They'd have to haul the body down sooner or
later, but right now Dana was more worried about yet another human murderer
on board. Jake offered Dana a tissue and she blotted her watering eyes.
"Never did see the sense of carrying a hankie," he explained.
"Those you gotta wash....these you just throw away. Simpler. Life's
already too complicated."
"And it just got worse," Dana commented. "Our prime suspect is in
there dangling from the ceiling. Someone wants us to think he committed
suicide...God, maybe this thing goes higher up than a lowly tabloid
reporter out after some easy money or whatever else he was offered."
"You think someone was hired to knock off Kopec after he offed
Oneida and Hubbard?" Moorehouse asked.
Dana nodded. "We made an assumption that someone...more than
likely Oneida's husband, the upstanding Senator Weston....hired Kopec to
kill his unfaithful wife and her lover to prevent years of blackmail and a
potentially disasterous political scandal. If that's the case, he
certainly couldn't offord to leave witnesses and evidence lying around that
could be traced back to him...could he?"
"Come on, Scully...you're joking, right? You're not trying to tell
me that the old *Bat* is really a 'hit woman'...." Moorehouse tittered in
disbelief. "Kopec wasn't exactly a lightweight. Whoever did that," Jake
said, pointing in the general direction of the body, "had to have some
pretty good upper body strength."
"Well maybe, just maybe, the old bat is not what she appears to
be," Dana argued. "Have you seen very much of her on this trip?"
"No, now that you mention it, she spent most of her time in her
cabin," he replied with suspicion creeping into his voice. "What better
place to hide a guy's bulk than under all those little ole lady layers,
right?"
Dana nodded...her thoughts exactly.
"Race you to the old lady's cabin...." Moorehouse said. Dana hung
on to the tissue Moorehouse had given her...where they were headed, she was
gonna need it.

Dr. Jay figured he should pay more attention to his physical
training. This young man could 'run', even injured, and he was having a
difficult time keeping up. In another reality, Mulder would not have been
able to 'touch' him in a race, but here....this was a different story.
Having to move through atmosphere could really slow a person down. Mulder
made it down to the engine room about a length ahead of him and that was
with a nasty injury handicapping him.
Mulder was about 50 yards ahead of the good doctor when the
explosion rocked the ship. Flames darted menacingly from the entrance and
the wails of trapped passengers who had been taking a tour of the engine
room echoed hurtfully in his ears. Mulder hesitated briefly, then thought
of Dana....trapped somewhere in that hell. He considered all the people
who would die if he wasn't there to locate the hunter for the 'other'.
This is what he had always wanted, what he was here for...to make a
difference... and he *could* make a difference here. Despite his deep
seated fear of fire, he rushed forward through the entrance before Dr. Jay
could stop him.
Searching through the smoke and debris, he came upon the obviously
nude body of a woman. The body was the same size and shape as Scully, but
the upper half had been burned beyond recognition, the remaining clothes
only charred tatters. Mulder dropped to his knees beside the body, the
fire around him forgotten as darkness and despair settled in his soul.
Dr. Jay came up slowly behind him and rested a comforting hand on
Mulder's shoulder. Young eyes turned to look at ancient ones and the
absolute desolation that Dr. Jay saw upon his friend's face burned straight
through to his equally ancient soul. Mulder cried in anguish as he felt
the air grow heavy with the hunter's evil presence. The familiar stench
eclipsed the room...even overpowering the smell of burning flesh around
him. Fox summoned all his anger, concentrating as he had never done
before, and was rewarded as the entity's form shimmered into reality before
him. He screamed with rage for the 'other' to hear...."There's your piece
of shit! Damnation to Hell is too good for the son of a bitch....make him
pay!" he cried. "Goddamn it, you make him pay," he sobbed.

(continued part 9)

M&S---EP---GLWG---Smoker for Scully--------------------Queen of Angst

XAngst Anonymous ELVIS PRESLEY, DEAD AT 42
and Myth Patrol "Oh, no!"
Construction Site -- Mulder, "Home"

"Meanwhile, I've quit the FBI, and become a spokesperson
for the Ab-Roller."
-- Scully, "Home"

xangst@frii.com------------Die-Hard Skinner Chick---------Dean Warner

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From xangst@frii.com Thu Oct 17 07:07:14 1996
DEVIL s ADVOCATE (part 9)
The "Unofficial" X Philes Novel
by:
CHERYL COHEN and ANNIE REED
aka
ImAStinker and FancyKatz @ aol.com

Moorehouse stood in front of yet another cabin door. He looked to
Dana with a somewhat sheepish expression as he brought his foot up to kick
it in.
Dana put her hand up to stop him. "Before you knock it down...at
least see if it's open," she suggested.
"Why would the moron leave the freaking door open?" he commented
doubtfully.
"So they could have a good laugh when morons like you take the
extra time to kick it in," she countered with a grin. Dana tried the
doorknob and found it unlocked.
Mooreshouse merely shrugged his shoulders as they entered the empty
room. Empty that is, except for a wig, a dress, several pairs of support
hose, a pair of boxer shorts, and a very complicated latex mask sitting on
a styrofoam wig holder. An empty wig holder sat on top of the dresser,
along with jars of heavy pancake makeup.
"Great...by now whoever this is has probably dumped the disguise.
Looks like we don't know *who* we're looking for now...." Jake commented
with just a little confusion.
Dana walked over to look at the makeup jars. "I don't suppose our
suspect was the helpful type who left us a few good prints to work with,"
she said, stifling a sneeze. At least she wasn't sneezing her head
off....that meant that the cat wasn't anywhere near here, either, and
hadn't been in some time. And that confused her as well. If this wasn't
the *real* Mrs. O'Keefe, why the cat? Maybe she should just sniff everyone
they met, and the one that made her sneeze was their suspect. Better than
nothing, which is what they had now.
Dana was just about to mention that to Moorehouse when they felt
the ship rock with what appeared to be an explosion from several decks
below. Momentarily forgetting the dilemma facing them about Mrs. O'Keefe's
true identity, they raced down the stairs two at a time in the direction of
the blast.

Within the dark shadows of the engine room, amid flame and smoke,
two entities finally came together to battle for dominance. They had
reached the center, the place where the follower was finally as strong as
the hunter. The hunter was savage in his fury....he did not want to leave
this place and would fight to the death for his right to stay. But the
follower was full of righteous anger and that anger gave it strength. The
air around them crackled with electricity and had a liquid feel to it.
They wrestled in their eternal battle, unseen by everyone save one strange
little observer and his unconsolable friend.
Mulder dropped his head in sorrow and turned to leave the beings
behind. He'd done what he could to help....now he had to trust the
follower to finish the job, just as he'd trusted Dana time and time again
to do her job. Dana....Oh god. Passing by her body, he could not help but
kneel to touch her one last time. He reached out his hand and stopped
suddenly, his hand hanging in mid air as realization made it's way to his
brain. He stared up at Dr. Jay, smiling....laughing.... "It's not Dana,"
he shouted with joy, tears streaming down his face.
"How do you know that?" Dr. Jay responded.
Mulder looked up at him again and smiled....no grinned wildly,
relief flooding through him. "No graffiti!!!" he giggled giddily in
between gasps. He was just starting to explain to a clearly puzzled Dr.
Jay when the entities collided a final time, and a second explosion ripped
through the engine room.
A tremendous force lifted Mulder into the air and slammed him
unmercifully into the bulkhead, his arms raised before his face against the
blast. He felt hot metal tear into his body but he wasn't exactly sure
where, and a dark, rich, stream of blood flowed fiercely down his face and
into his already stinging eyes. He couldn't see. Superheated air burned
into his nose and throat and his lungs felt as though they were burning a
hole through his chest. He vaguely felt himself being lifted and carried
through the inferno and out towards the light....a bright light.

Dana and Moorehouse arrived at the scene minutes later. The engine
room was fully engulfed in flames, thick black smoke pouring from doorway.
Somehow the crew had managed to rescue a few passengers, and they lay about
on stretchers lining the corridor. Most had obvious burns, and one woman
was bleeding freely from a head wound. This looks like a war zone, Dana
thought. She looked for Dr. Johnson to see if she could help him, but she
couldn't find the doctor. All of the sudden she had a very bad feeling
about this.
Dana headed toward the open dooway, but Moorehouse grabbed her arm
and stopped her.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded.
"Mulder's in there...I know it," she replied, straining to get away
from his grasp. "I've got to find him...."
"What.....are you nuts? Nothing could survive in there."
Dana struggled briefly, then stopped, her shoulders sagging as she
acknowledged that he was right. Even where she was standing the heat was
almost unbearable....if Mulder was caught in there....
"Oh, god...." Dana breathed, her eyes going wide with shock and
surprise. Moorehouse followed her gaze into the inferno, then blinked
rapidly trying to clear his vision. Surely he wasn't seeing what he
thought he was seeing.
Dr. Jay was walking toward them through the flames carrying
Mulder's limp body in his arms. The fire backed away from them, and they
emerged untouched through that vision of hell and out into the corridor.
The odd little man seemed to support Mulder's larger mass
effortlessly. He walked down the corridor and laid Mulder down gently on
an empty stretcher, like a father lovingly putting his child to bed. Dana
ran over to Mulder, horror and despair etched on her face as the extent of
his injuries became clear. His burns, though not widespread or immediately
life threatening, were mainly second degree....the most painful. The skin
on his arms and hands had peeled away, revealing the raw and bloody skin
beneath that resembled melted wax. Although the burns were serious, what
concerned Dana more was the amount of blood he was losing due to what
looked like shrapnel wounds, and most particularly the damage done to his
respiratory system from the superheated air that he had inhaled. She could
hear his strangled attempts to breathe as his throat and nasal passages
began to swell, cutting off his oxygen supply. Chances were that he would
suffocate or bleed to death before she could do anything to help him.
Tears streamed down her face as Dr. Jay had Mulder transported to
the infirmary and placed on the exam table. Unable to touch his hands, she
settled for stroking his hair. Normally silky and soft beaneath her
fingertips, it was stiff and charred brittle....little pieces broke off at
her touch. For once in her life, Dana wished she wasn't a doctor....then
she wouldn't know that Mulder was dying....she could still have hope.
Mulder needed immediate treatment in an intensive care ward, and he wasn't
about to get it on this ship. And he wouldn't last until help arrived from
the mainland.
Looking toward her tear-stained face, Dr. Jay came to a decision.
It was going to cause him problems, but he didn't care. These two didn't
deserve this.
Dr. Jay took Dana by the elbow. "Come, my dear," he said, gently
ushering her out of the room. Before she could protest, he shut the door
forcefully behind her, locking her out.
"Noooo!!!" she howled as she pounded her fists on the door. How
could he do this? How could Dr. Jay keep her from him....Fox needed her
help, needed her to be there with him. Why would he keep them apart? "Let
me in...please, please....let me in," she begged, but the door remained
firmly closed.
Dr Jay studied the battered figure before him. "You do not deserve
this," he repeated. "Our mission here was successful...we won, my friend,
and part of that success was because of you," he whispered sadly. "I can
not condone neutrality in this case...so I will do what I must. If I am
punished for my disobedience, so be it. Making you pay for our mistakes is
a sham of justice and I will not be a part of it," he vowed angrily.
Holding his hands over Mulder's prone body, Dr. Jay closed his
eyes. A bright glow grew in the room, seemingly coming from nowhere and
everywhere all at once. It surrounded the two men until their shapes were
indistinguishable from the light. In a flash the light disappeared, and
all that remained was a blood covered table and an empty room.
Enlisting the help of several passengers, Dana finally broke into
the infirmary. However, she did not find what she expected..... There was
nothing here...the room was empty. Just like the test scenario, Dana
thought, the men had vanished from a locked room with no obvious means of
escape. <Where has Dr. Jay taken him... and more important....Why?>
Moorehouse insisted on conducting a ship-wide search for
Mulder.....after all, in reality no one could vanish from a locked room,
not to mention a cruise ship out in the middle of the ocean. But the
search was to no avail.......Dana wasn't surprised...she hadn't really
thought that anyone would find him. You couldn't hide a critically wounded
man on a ship...and have him survive.
Along with a couple of doctors from the passenger list, she helped
the ship's personnel care for the injured.....Familiar tasks kept her mind
occupied. But when the last victim was attended to, there was nothing else
to do. Dana felt like a lost soul, aimlessly wandering the corridors.
After spearheading the search for Mulder, Moorehouse had made himself
scarce. She had a feeling he couldn't deal with failure, or maybe he just
wanted to give her some space to let her deal with her grief in her own
way. In any event, Dana evetually found herself on the deck where she'd
watched the sunrise together with Mulder. She leaned heavily on the rail
and cried bitterly, giving in to her grief.
"Shush," a familiar voice admonished from behind her. "You cannot
go to him in this condition, my dear. He is going to need all the cheering
up that you can give him...especially when those burns start to itch."
Dana whirled suddenly and looked Dr. Jay dead in the eye...after
all they were nearly the same height.
"I took the liberty of calling for an air lift, the little man
continued. It seems that ship to shore is now....functional, shall we
say."
"Where have you been?" she asked in a mixture of anger and relief.
"Why did you take him? How did you take him?"
"Dear lady, suffice it to say that one should sometimes *not* ask
too many questions...just accept 'what is' and be thankful. Dr. Jay s
expression turned serious, and Dana felt her heart leap into her throat as
he continued. But be warned...he is not completely out of danger, my
dear. There are some things that even *I* can't fix. He has an
insatiable will to live, however, and with the proper medical facilities, I
think he'll make it. He s back in the infirmary. Go to him...he needs
you." The little man turned and walked around a corner. Dana ran to the
spot, but he had vanished once again.
Remember, Dana, she told herself, don't ask too many questions...
just accept what is and be thankful....and she was. She turned and ran
toward the infirmary. The door was now open and upon entering, she spotted
Mulder's long, lean silhouette lying peacefully prone on the examination
table. All the equipment had been expertly utilized and was performing all
the necessary functions....she could not have done it any better herself.
The heart monitor showed a steady sinus rhythm, the ventilator hissed with
regularity, and the IV dripped monotonously through the clear surgical
tubing.
Dana rechecked the equipment a second time, took his vital signs,
and concluded that though he was still critical, his condition was at
least stable...a feat that she had thought would be an impossibility when
she'd first examined him at the scene. It was during this second
examination that she noticed the strange, green, gel-like substance that
seemed to ooze from his nose and mouth. It also covered the damp bandages
on his arms and hands. Reaching out, she touched it with her fingertips
and felt an odd, tingling sensation. It almost felt like some kind of
.....living material. She raised her fingers to her nose, sniffing the
green goop, but it seemed to disappear into thin air as soon as she brought
it close to her nose.
Having dealt in the past with numerous 'other' types of living
organisms, many of which she would just as soon forget, she was at first
alarmed by the presence of this unknown substance. In the end, however,
she came to the conclusion that Dr. Jay would not use anything on Mulder
that would cause any harm. She attempted several times to remove a sample
for study, but without success. Each time she tried to gather some for a
slide, it dissolved without a trace within seconds.
Dana finally decided that whatever it was, it must accelerate the
healing process....sort of a topical super-antibiotic tissue regenerator,
if such a thing was possible. <Remember, extreme possibilities *are*
possible, Dana, when you ve ruled out every other logical explanation.> In
that event, it was highly probable that the goop was geared to respond only
to the host in which it was introduced. At least it didn t seem to have an
adverse affect on her.
"How's the kid doin'?" Jake asked gruffly as he stood hesitantly in
the doorway. I d heard somebody finally found him.
"He's hanging in there," she replied, worriedly pacing the floor.
"It seems he's been here all along."
"Yeah, sure..." Moorehouse scoffed. "And if I believe that one,
you've got a great bargain on Manhattan you d like to run past me, right?"
Dana smiled...funny how they'd come to this unspoken understanding
not to talk about Mulder's strange rescue from the engine room, not to
mention the mysterious Dr. Jay. She listened as Moorehouse filled her in.
He'd searched Kopec's room, then Oneida's, and last but not least Mrs.
O'Keefe's... or whoever the hell she/he was. Not surprisingly, he d found
absolutely nothing to connect Senator Weston with the murders of his wife
and her lover. If they were dealing with a government assassin, and
Moorehouse had every reason to believe that they were, there would be no
evidence. These guys were ruthless...not to mention thorough. However,
he'd found all sorts of incriminating evidence against Kopec still in his
cabin...some coincidence, huh? Yeah, right....
"I think you should go with him when the choppers get here,"
Moorehouse said, gesturing at Mulder. "We've gone as far as we're gonna
get with this investigation. I've notified the authorities to meet the
ship at the port when we dock. Whoever bumped off Kopec is long gone...or
died in the engine room explosion... and every lead is a dead end. We both
know that Senator Weston was behind at least two of the murders, but all
the evidence has conveniently 'disappeared'. Just try to prove that kind
of charge against the good senator with what we have and we'll have the
whole damn 'hill' down on our necks."
Moorehouse paced back and forth in the small room. It was clear
that he was frustrated by not being able to nab the real culprit. But he'd
been around long enough to know that eventually you had to stop banging
your head against a brick wall cause you're the only one who's getting
hurt.
"I've got enough evidence to prove Kopec's involvement," he
continued. "It's more than enough to get the reward. And as your partner
so eloquently informed me...no one will believe the identity of the other
murderer. If I hadn t seen some of this stuff with my own eyes, I wouldn't
believe it either. I m still not sure that I do."
"I know the feeling," Dana said sympathethically. "I've always
been the skeptic. Mulder's had to drag me along all the way on that score,
kicking and screaming. I may believe on occasion, Jake...I'm just a lot
less likely to than Mulder."
"You know, Mrs. Mulder," Jake said, emphasizing her name ever so
slightly...kind of like an inside joke. "Since you were the one who made
the connection and forced Kopec's hand, part of this reward belongs to you
and your partner."
"We can't take a reward for performing our duties while on an
official case," Dana replied. "But how about you take 'our share' and set
up some kind of charity fund. Pick one that needs the money the most," she
said almost as an afterthought.

*******
continued in part 9b

M&S---EP---GLWG---Smoker for Scully--------------------Queen of Angst

XAngst Anonymous ELVIS PRESLEY, DEAD AT 42
and Myth Patrol "Oh, no!"
Construction Site -- Mulder, "Home"

"Meanwhile, I've quit the FBI, and become a spokesperson
for the Ab-Roller."
-- Scully, "Home"

xangst@frii.com------------Die-Hard Skinner Chick---------Dean Warner

**********************************************************************
_ _
\ / For information on the XAngst Anonymous
\ / email fanfic list, please write:
X A N G S T Anonymous
/ \ & xangst@frii.com
/ \ The Myth Patrol Dean Warner--Founder and moderator
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From xangst@frii.com Thu Oct 17 07:07:51 1996
Devil's Advocate part 9 continued....

Moorehouse nodded with admiration, agreeing with her suggestion.
"I'll take care of the loose ends here. You know...if you're ever in need
of a new partner....look me up." He stared at Dana, whose gaze had never
left Mulder during the whole time he'd spoken to her. "I know, when hell
freezes over..never hurts to ask," he muttered under his breath.
He walked over to the table, patted Fox lightly on the head and
grinned. "Better get used to her bossin' ya around...looks like you're
stuck with her."

The trauma hawks came within the hour bringing medical personnel
and airlifting many of the more seriously injured passengers to the waiting
trauma teams at Jackson Memorial. Mulder had been one of the first to be
taken and Dana, being a doctor, was allowed to accompany him. As promised,
Jake stayed behind to handle the details of the 'provable' murders.
For three long days Mulder fought an uphill battle for his life.
Already weakened by his previous illness and injury, he balanced
precariously on a tight rope between life and death. This rope had to be
tread carefully, for there was 'no' net to catch him if he fell. On
several occasions he'd nearly lost his balance and tumbled into the chasm.
Dana recalled everything with vivid clarity....the crash-carts,
tubes, needles, and machines. She was heartbreakingly reminded of just how
many ways modern medical science could violate a human body, and she found
herself on an emotional roller coaster ride. She soared with joy when
Fox's condition stabilized, and then sank with despair hours later when
his vitals plummeted, resulting in a cardiac arrest. They'd brought him
back....twice... and he'd stabilized yet again.
She was exhausted....physically, mentally, and emotionally. The
strain was evident in her posture and displayed itself clearly in the
deepened lines and shadows beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her voice echoed
with anxiety and stress when she spoke to Margaret on the phone that second
nerve-wracking night......needing her mother's strength, yet reluctant to
ask for her support.
Dana had always been a strong person, dependent on no one, and she
prided herself on that strength--- Then she'd met 'him' and as with
everything else, he'd thrown a monkey wrench into the cogwheels of her
life.
Mulder had always respected her, she realized...right from the
start he d valued her opinions and cared enough to argue with her when he
thought her opinions were wrong. He accepted her strength and when
necessary, he relied on it without reservation. Fox was one of the few
'men' she'd ever met who didn't seem threatened by her 'drive' or her
intelligence, and in fact, almost seemed to 'enjoy' providing her with
challenges for both. He was possibly the 'smartest' person she'd ever
known--and at times one of the most troubled. She couldn't exactly
pinpoint when it happened, but over the last two years, she'd grown to love
this man...obsessions and all. Somehow in her heart and mind, she just
couldn't picture her life without him in it.
Pacing a scuffed path in the shiny white tiles of the hospital
floor, she walked to the window and back again, wishing with all her heart
that she could impart to him the same strength, openness, and love that
he'd given to her in her own struggle for life.
Finally, physically exhausted, she simply flopped herself back down
into the small, comfortless chair next to Mulder s bed. She absently
reached out and lightly traced the fine contours and angles of Mulder's
face with her fingertips. Her touch lingered tenderly over his soft,
sensual lips, now rudely separated by the cold unyielding plastic of a
ventilator tube.
Memories flooded her mind......"There's nobody down here but the
FBI's most
Unwanted".....mischievous eyes..."Do you think I'm
'Spooky'?"........teasing smirks..."I think it's plausible someone might
think you're 'hot'.".....softly sincere..."If there's an ice tea in that
bag... could be 'love'"......eyes crinkling in mirth..."that only happens
when I eat Dodger Dogs."....fleeting smile, knowing looks.....words of
comfort....passionate embraces.... The visions wouldn't stop and
threatened to overwhelm her, but she struggled to remain in control.
Dana bent low over his ear and whispered a phrase that seemed
vaguely familiar to her. "I don't know if my being here will bring you
back....but 'I'm here'." Resting her head on the bed beside him, Dana
drifted into a fitful sleep, only to be awakened several hours later by the
choking sounds of Mulder trying to expel the tube from his throat.
He'd improved around midnight and his gagging reflex kicked in,
prompting the doctors to remove the ventilator and place the thin oxygen
tubing beneath his nose instead.
Dana sighed in relief....this was a definite improvement. She
allowed herself to hope.

Margaret Scully paced the the floor in ICU angrily. She glanced
frequently at her daughter who had seated herself in a chair by Mulder's
bed. "You informed his parents?" she asked yet again.
Scully nodded in affirmation one more time. "I told you,
mother...they can't make it," she repeated, thoroughly understanding her
mother's anger. She had felt some of the ire that her mother was openly
venting. "His mother is in New York with some business appointment--she
left a number where she could be reached if there was any change, and his
father is in Paris. His cousin Alex and his wife Catie will be here as
soon as they can find, or shall I say, 'bribe' someone to watch the kids."
Dana snickered out loud, "Although I wouldn t hold my breath if I were
you... zoo keepers are in short supply these days."
Her mother'd had no trouble recognizing the unspoken need in her
daughter's voice when they had spoken on the phone the night before. She'd
flown in that morning and immediately began playing mother hen to both of
them. Scully had to admit she was just a little surprised at her mom's
maternal instincts toward Mulder at first. Margaret was genuinely ticked
off at his family for their indifference to him and pestered the nurses
often if she thought that he wasn't getting enough attention...which was
totally absurd, since the nurses did nothing *but* pay attention to him.
Her mom and Mulder had *obviously* become very close during her absence and
she had 'adopted' him as her own. Dana smiled. Boy, would he be in for it
now, she thought. Three Scully women, picking on him...pestering
him....caring about him.....he was about to discover what a *real* family
was like---God help him.
"You mean to tell me that with her only child at death's door, this
woman prefers to keep a *business* appointment????" Margaret fumed, then
huffed for effect. "How in the name of heaven could someone as caring and
empathetic as Fox *ever* come from people who are so...." she paused
momentarily searching for the correct word. ".....callous? Do you still
have that number?"
Scully dug out her notebook. "Yeah, it's right here." She held
the notebook up for emphasis and jumped in surprise when her mother quickly
reached over and snatched it from her hand. "Mother, what are you doing?"
Dana inquired anxiously. "Mother....."
"As one mother to another...I'm going to give this woman a piece of
my mind," she replied obstinately, reaching for the telephone. She then
shot her daughter a look that dared her to try and interfere.
Dana remained where she was. She knew her mother's moods and this
was not one that would appreciate rationality. She'd once been told that
all Scully women were stubborn, opinionated, and very
protective....personally, she couldn't *imagine* why anyone would think
such a thing...Yeah, right. She could almost hear the 'lock and load'
before the blast and was more than grateful that she, Dana Scully, was not
going to be on the receiving end of *this* phone conversation.
"Hello? Mrs. Mulder? This is Mrs. Scully. My daughter is your
son's partner. Her mother was being extremely polite... that was a very
bad sign. "Yes, there's been a slight improvement. Frankly, I was surprised
not to find you here...I ve been looking forward to meeting you. Her
mother paused briefly, no doubt listening to Mrs. Mulder s excuse for her
absence. "Yes, I *heard* about your *business* in New York. That is what
I want to talk to you about. What I want to know is how a *business*
appointment can take precedence over your child's welfare." Her mother
paused to listen again...Dana could just imagine the other end of this
conversation, probably something about minding her own business. Dana
cringed...that phrase never failed to push her mom s buttons, especially
when Margaret Scully knew she was right.
"Oh, you don't...do you? Well, let me tell you something...I have
never met anyone as intelligent, gentle, and kind as your son...and one of
these days you may find that he's gone...and that you never even took the
time to know who he was. And that, Mrs. Mulder, would be a *real* shame.
If you know what's good for you, you'll get your butt down here and be a
mother ... What kind of person am I?!?" Margaret repeated indignantly.
"I was about to ask you the same question....your son needs you." Mrs.
Scully's face took on an expression of disbelief. "Your needs?!!??
What??? Pardon me, but perhaps the poor boy was adopted after all, because
I can't for the life of me picture him as *your* son. You've shut him out
because seeing him reminds you of what you've lost....That's not fair to
him.....or to you. Yes, well same to you. Goodbye." She slammed the
receiver down as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Bitch," she mumbled
softly.
Margaret Scully looked at her daughter and grinned guiltily. "If
that doesn't bring her...nothing will, and in that case, he's better off
without her. Whew!!!" she uttered in an exaggerated sigh. "I feel much
better."
Mulder stirred slowly on the bed and began to cough up some of the
odd green liquid. Scully wiped it from his mouth only to watch it
disintegrate from the cloth in her hand. The strange smelling stuff had
been driving the doctors batty trying to figure out what it was. They had
an idea of what it did, although they couldn't even begin to imagine *how*
it did it or where it came from. New skin had already begun to form on his
hands and arms and his respiratory system had also begun to heal in the
same manner. What ever this green goo was, it worked and she didn't give a
rat's ass if they could figure it out or not. She said a silent 'thanks'
to Mulder's guardian angel, Dr. Jay....whereever he was... and hoped that
he wasn't in too much trouble.
Scully watched as Fox slowly opened his eyes. She could tell that
even though his eyes were open, they were glazed and slightly dilated....he
wasn't all there yet, but it was a start. His other injuries still worried
her. He d lost a lot of blood and had begun to experience system failure
from hypovolemic shock when they d first arrived at the hospital. That
fact along with the basal skull fracture he d received fed her overly
cautious paranoia concerning his condition.
He moaned quietly and whispered, "Mom?" Dana brushed the hair from
his eyes as her mother bent over him.
"Yes, it's mom," Margaret said in a soothing tone.
Mulder looked at her and in his confused, semi- conscious state,
whimpered softly, "please don't hate me, mom. I didn t mean to... I love
you."
Margaret held back her tears. "Oh, dear...I could *never* hate
you....I love you too. Now go back to sleep..." She kissed him lightly on
the forehead. A contented smile formed upon his lips as he drifted off to
a warm, safe place.
"Dana, dear," her mom whispered softly as she turned to leave,
"I'll be back later to relieve you for a little while so you can get some
rest, and don't try and argue with me about it....I'm your mother. I think
you're as bad as he is," she said, glancing at Mulder. "I don't think
anything less than dynamite could have moved him from *your* side at the
hospital," she smiled in remembrance. "He's a very, very, stubborn young
man...." she said out loud as she walked through the door. "Who obviously
loves you very much," she added quietly under her breath.
Margaret was halfway down the hall when she realized she'd left her
purse in the chair in which she'd been sitting. She headed back to the
room, intending to duck in quickly and retrieve it. Pausing at the door,
she peaked through the window just in time to see her daughter bend
carefully over Fox, tenderly stroke a stubborn lock of hair from over one
eye, and lightly kiss his full, soft lips... green goo and all.
Mrs. Scully grinned in spite of herself and made a mental note to
stop harassing her daughter about 'dating'. She couldn't have come up with
anyone that even came close to Fox. No wonder Dana hadn't shown any
interest. She went back down the hall...she had her ATM card in her
pocket, after all. She'd just take a cab.

Scully remained in ICU after her mother had left for the motel.
She watched Fox sleep... a deep, healing sleep. When the doctor came by on
his last rounds for the evening, he confirmed what Dana already
suspected...that Mulder s condition had improved enough for them to confirm
that he would indeed survive. She'd been nearly frantic with concern for
the past two days...and rightly so. That man was gonna give her gray hair
and ulcers.....well, that is unless she gave them to him first.
Glancing up to check him every now and then, she took out her lap
top compuder and began to make her report. It was late but she didn't
care...she just wanted to finish the one last detail and put this case
behind them. Surprisingly, Skinner hadn't pressed her for it. In fact, he
d called the hospital a couple of times to check on Mulder s condition, and
he d told her to take as much time as she needed. Maybe Fox was right
again and Skinner wasn't such a bad guy after all.
She sat and stared at her keyboard for what seemed like hours.
Should she write what she 'knew' was the truth...or only what she knew that
she could 'prove'? The only proof they had implicated Karl Kopec and she
was certain that *he* was murdered by someone hired by the *good* senator.
This someone, she believed, was whoever had been disguised as Mrs. O'Keefe.
Since there were no fingerprints and nobody had seen this person out of
disquise, he or she would be next to impossible to find, let alone connect
to Senator Weston. Either way, the *real* human guilty party would escape
prosecution due to a convenient 'lack of evidence'.
Dana had no doubts that Senator Weston was behind the murders of
Oneida and Jason and had used the 'unexplainable' murders to his advantage.
But without the concrete evidence needed to indict or convict him, they
were powerless to connect him with the crimes.....so once again....they
were left with the injustice of knowledge without proof. Dana wanted to
scream.
"Don't do that," a quiet, familiar voice whispered from the
shadows. "Hospitals notoriously frown upon loud noises...especially late
at night."
"Are you a mind reader, too?" she asked in startled surprise as Dr.
Jay stepped forward into the light. "How did you get in here? Don't tell
me...let me guess. Scotty beamed you down and you're exiled on this quaint
little planet for screwing with the prime directive." Dr. Jay favored her
with a quisical look...she d inadvertantly come pretty close to the truth,
with just a few of the details wrong.
"I'm sorry...." she apologized, "I'm just a little frayed. I
should be thanking you---you saved Fox's life," she murmured, pointing to
the hospital bed surrounded by the whirring and beeping machines that kept
diligent surveillance on the pale being who was safely tucked in between
the crisp white sheets.
"Oh, I'm not offended, dear lady," he replied gallantly. "Actually
I thought your remarks were...quite humorous...and not too far from
...'truthful'. I did get into a 'spot' of trouble for my interference
with your partner's dilemma. However, the powers that be recognized the
necessity of my actions and cleared me completely. You see.....Fox's
continued existence is, shall we say, 'required'. He is slated to have a
full, long, and very productive life ......if all is to turn out as it
should." He stared at Dana once more with a cryptic grin. "You'll have a
lot to do with that, so please be careful and take care of yourself, too."
Dr. Jay walked over to the bed and rested his hand gently on
Mulder's forehead. "Do try not to be so impulsive, my friend. My
superiors tend to frown upon my absconding with their medical equipment.
In fact, it makes them absolutely livid."
Mulder twitched under Dr. Jay's touch and moaned softly in reply.

********
continued in part 9c

M&S---EP---GLWG---Smoker for Scully--------------------Queen of Angst

XAngst Anonymous ELVIS PRESLEY, DEAD AT 42
and Myth Patrol "Oh, no!"
Construction Site -- Mulder, "Home"

"Meanwhile, I've quit the FBI, and become a spokesperson
for the Ab-Roller."
-- Scully, "Home"

xangst@frii.com------------Die-Hard Skinner Chick---------Dean Warner

**********************************************************************
_ _
\ / For information on the XAngst Anonymous
\ / email fanfic list, please write:
X A N G S T Anonymous
/ \ & xangst@frii.com
/ \ The Myth Patrol Dean Warner--Founder and moderator
- -

**********************************************************************

From xangst@frii.com Thu Oct 17 07:08:28 1996
Devil's Advocate part 9 continued...

"There, there....no need to get so touchy" he spoke to the now
aggitated young man beneath his hand....."Do not think that your pain was
pointless. You accomplished much more than you can ever be allowed to
realize. The human demon will eventually reap what he has sown...*You*
have assisted in slaying a much larger dragon.....I am embarrassingly proud
of you."
Dr. Jay smiled thoughtfully and Dana watched breathlessly as he
stroked Mulder's hair tenderly, dropping his fingertips to linger
momentarily on Fox's cheek. "I have to leave now....please endeavor to
behave yourself."
The strange little man turned around to face Dana, and for the
first time she noticed that he was holding a cat...in fact, it was Mrs. O
Keefe s orange cat. Now why had t she seen that before? And why wasn t she
sneezing her head off?
Where did *that* come from? Dana asked, pointing at the cat.
She could have sworn he didn't have the cat when she first saw him.
This delightful creature? Dr. Jay asked mischeviously. He
scratched Tiger behind the ears, and the cat closed its eyes contentedly,
purring up a storm. It never ceases to amaze me what so-called
intelligent beings will do to each other, he said, shaking his head sadly.
I think this one has suffered enough, don t you? Besides, he has a
present for you. Dr. Jay took the collar off the cat and held it out to
Dana.
Cats...intelligent beings?!? Surely he must be joking. Cats
were...well, cats. She shook her head at him. "I can t take that ...I m
allergic."
Dr. Jay quirked an eyebrow at her. Are you now, my dear. He
chuckled, then dropped the collar on the table by Mulder s bed. Amazing
stuff, that green goo...but now I really must go.
Dana recovered her composure and quickly asked, "will we see you again?"
"Oh....I'll be around. You can count on it...the two of you could
give an old man 'green'...I mean 'gray' hair. By the way...." He paused
and produced a small flask of the strange tea he'd given Mulder the last
time they'd met. "This tea is very good for just about everything...but
especially for an upset stomach...it could come in handy."
"Thanks," Dana replied, taking the flask of tea from him, all the
while eyeing the cat warily. Was there something going on behind those
golden eyes? Naw... she was imagining things...a cat was a cat. But I
don t think we ll be taking another cruise any time soon, she told Dr.
Jay.
Dr. Jay grinned broadly. "No, I suppose not."
Dana took the flask that she had taken from his hand and set it on
the small end table beside her chair. When she looked back up.....Dr. Jay
and the cat had vanished once again into the shadows....
Strange. . .
Dana, she thought to herself, don't even ask. She shook her head
slowly, retraced her steps back to Mulder's bed and seated herself
carefully on its edge. He looked much better, she noted with satisfaction.
A small tinge of pink had returned to his cheeks and the odd green
substance had vanished without a trace, leaving no sign that it had 'ever'
existed in the first place.
Thinking of Dr. Jay, she looked up, briefly expecting him to pop up
out of nowhere. Somewhat relieved to find themselves still alone, she
spoke to Mulder out loud, "I must say, Fox Mulder.....you *do* attract some
of the *strangest 'friends'."
Upon lowering her gaze, she was surprised to find that Fox had
awakened and was contemplating her face from beneath heavy-lidded hazel
eyes.
Dana smiled in joyous relief as Mulder moved his lips and tried to
speak. His first attempt resulted in nothing more than a strained whisper
and even though the effort appeared to exhaust him, he persisted.
Tears welled hauntingly in his eyes, then overflowed and traveled
silently down his cheeks as the shock of his ordeal caught up with him.
Mulder met her gaze. His countenance suggested a plea for comfort as a low
strained voice, hoarsely laced with pain and emotion echoed what was
clearly displayed on his face. "Hold me?" he asked in a strangled whisper.
"For as long as you want me to," she replied quietly.
Dana carefully lowered herself to lie beside him on the bed. Very,
very gently, she adjusted wires and shifted tubing as she placed her arm
lightly across his body in a tender caress....a position in which she
remained until her mother showed up to relieve her the next morning.

Scully stopped typing in the middle of her report, removed her
glasses and set them on her desk. She rubbed her eyes gingerly, then took
another sip of hot tea before resuming her task. This report really needed
to be finished---she knew that. She'd started on it several days ago while
she was watching over Mulder in ICU, but found that at the time she just
didn't seem to be able to concentrate on writing it. But now with Mulder
steadily improving day by day it was time to get on with business.
Dana still wasn't exactly 'certain' of what it was that she
*should* write...so she had basically stuck with the facts as she knew
them. Putting her teacup down, she continued typing:

'As previously stated, evidence found in Karl Kopec's cabin
suggests that he, indeed,
committed the murders of Oneida Darkhorse and Jason Hubbard. Mr. Kopec's
fingerprints were found on both the screwdriver used to loosen the screws
on Mr. Hubbard's barbell stand and on the package of patches used to drug
Mrs. Darkhorse and Agent Mulder. Chemical analysis of the patches
confirmed a potentially 'fatal' dosage of the common motion sickness drug
known as Scopolomine. The only thing lacking in the proof of Mr. Kopec's
guilt, however, is 'motive'.
Both Agent Mulder and I feel that Mr. Kopec did *not* act on his
own initiative. Our investigation has revealed no prior contact between
Mr. Kopec and the victims, outside of Mr. Kopec s somewhat inflammatory
article concerning Mrs. Darkhorse. However, Mr. Kopec denied ever having
met the woman prior to writing the article, and we have been unable to
prove otherwise. Our opinion is further based on the fact that Mr. Kopec,
himself, was also murdered by an unknown assailant who disguised himself or
herself as Mrs. Charlotte O'Keefe. *NOTE*: The authentic Mrs. O'Keefe had
been in residence at her estate in Maine during all three cruises, a fact
attested to by numerous eyewitnesses. Therefore, she could not have been on
board the ship.
'It is our belief that Mr. Kopec was recruited by an
outside source to eliminate Mrs. Darkhorse and her lover. Although Agent
Mulder and I suspect who that source might be, without the proof needed for
conviction, arrest and prosecution of our suspect would be a useless
endeavor. We will, however, continue to monitor this 'suspect' covertly in
an attempt to obtain the evidence and information necessary to link this
individual with the crimes.'

Dana paused in her report to finger the collar Dr. Jay had taken
off the cat. Dana had given the collar to the forensics lab to run tests
on it. The lab report was sitting on her desk...Dana just hadn t decided
what to do about it yet. As it turned out, the collar itself was
unremarkable...easily purchased at any pet store in the country for about
six dollars. However, one of the jewels imbedded in the collar had
turned out to be a computer microchip. Encoded on that chip were columns
of numbers and dates. This was important...Dana knew it. Maybe Mrs. O
Keefe's imposter had encoded that chip as an insurance policy of sorts to
protect him or her from whoever had ordered Kopec s murder. Too bad it
hadn t turned out that way. But maybe someday they d be able to trace the
numbers and dates back to Senator Weston, although for the life of her,
Dana couldn t figure out how she would ever be able to prove the chain of
custody on this particular piece of evidence. For now, she decided to
leave it out of her report and she continued typing:

'Mr. Kopec's murderer still remains unidentified. However, since
all passengers and crew have been accounted for, it is this Agent's opinion
that the assassin perished in the same engine room explosion that
critically injured Agent Mulder.
It is Agent Mulder's contention that the 'outside source'
knowingly used the existing deaths on board the cruise ship vessel to
confuse and hinder any ensuing investigation. To paraphrase a saying that
he seems quite fond of quoting..'A lie is most convincing when place
between two truths.'
As for the other 'murders' aboard this and the previous cruises
of the past several weeks, no evidence of 'foul play' could be proven. I
tend to lean toward the assumption that this particular section of ocean
in some manner, perhaps due to environmental changes, detrimentally
affected certain susceptible individuals, inducing a form of psychosis,
causing erratic behavior and possible hallucinations. This, in turn,
prompted 'unusual' accidents that would not have normally occurred. It
should be noted that once the cruise line initiated a course change
correction which avoided this particular area of ocean, no further
incidents occurred.
Studies done in several universities would tend to back up the
aforementioned theory. For example, lack of ultraviolet light may cause
depression, high frequency sound has been known to produce irritability in
some persons, etc. I submit that although this is a 'possible' explanation
for this phenomenon, it is not necessarily the *only* one, and could not be
proven without extensive research which was not possible during this
investigation. Therefore, without concrete proof, I am forced to
'officially' classify X-file number 4305-6 as unsolved.'

She knew Mulder wouldn't 'officially' agree with this
classification....and she had to admit that she didn't either, but she also
knew that he would grudgingly accept her judgment in the matter. Dana took
one last sip of tea, turned out the light and headed for bed.

Scully spent the better part of the next day at the hospital, and
she was exceedingly pleased that Mulder continued to improve. When she'd
arrived that morning, they'd even propped him up in bed. The IV dangled
from his arm and she still thought he looked too pale. Although the
monitors beeped and hummed reassuringly, she fought the urge to check his
vitals just one more time. The only thing holding her back was the fact
that he was talking incessantly. She couldn't get him to shut up, not that
she 'really' wanted him to. It was a pleasure to hear his voice again, and
the fact that he was running his mouth proved to her that he was feeling
pretty good, considering the circumstances..
Pulling the chair up closer to Fox, she sat down with a wide grin
on her face. If it hadn't been for the tragic circumstances that had
'landed' him here, she would have considered the scene before her as
'comical'. All right....in spite of everything, it *was* comical.
The skin on Mulder's arms and hands had begun to peel profusely,
and in an effort to prevent him from scratching and infecting himself, the
nurses had brought in a pair of long, white evening gloves with little pink
embroidered roses running down the sides for him to wear. They'd
customized them by cutting out a space for the IV and taped the tops
securely around his upper arms so he couldn't 'accidentally' pull them off.
She d have to remember that technique the next time he was sporting a
cast...she didn't even want to think about all the trouble he d caused with
the last one.
Mulder recognized an impish grin when he saw one and merely raised
one questioning eyebrow, just daring her to comment.
A nurse strolled in and unceremoniously dropped his chart at the
foot of the bed.
"What?" he repeated out loud, as Dana continued to snicker.
"Oh, I don't know....." she offered with a wry smile as she glanced
up at the nurse. "I was just wondering....how did you get him to put
'those' on without putting up a fight?" she inquired, pointing at the
gloves.
"Oh, he *did* put up a fight," the nurse said sweetly, giving
Mulder a wink. ".......he lost."
"You guys *cheat*," he grumbled.
"Cheat?" Scully asked in confusion.
"We knocked him out," the nurse chuckled with satisfaction.
"*Never* give the *nurses* a hard time," she admonished as she left the
room.
"Mengele's granddaughter," he mumbled accusingly under his breath
as she walked through the door.
Dana laughed out loud. That infamous Mulder sense of humor was
back...that was a *very* good sign. She studied him for several seconds.
There'd been something she'd wanted to ask him....something she'd wanted to
know but she'd wanted to wait until his mind had cleared and he was feeling
better---perhaps now.....
"Mulder," she ventured cautiously, "do you remember *anything* from
the time of the explosion until you woke up here?"
Fox knitted his brows in concentration. "Not much," he admitted,
"....and yes, it does bother me," he added before she could ask. A haunted
look clouded his features and the memories that he 'could' recall replayed
themselves in his mind. "I remember mostly *pain*," he continued, "waves
and waves of pain....and 'joy'."
"Joy?!!?" she sputtered disbelievingly.
He lowered his eyes and his voice. "*It* lied to me....it implied
that you were in the engine room....that you were dead.... When I
discovered that the 'body' I found wasn't you......I felt....joy."
He quickly continued his narrative before she could respond.
"Things get pretty vague after that and I'm not sure what was real and what
was imagined. I have a brief and fuzzy recollection of hearing Dr. Jay's
voice, being naked, seeing a green haze, and the sensation of being
submerged in. . . warm jello? I seem to remember that at first I was
afraid I would drown... I panicked and tried to hold my breath. Then Dr.
Jay said that it was ok to breathe....and it was. It was the weirdest
dream I've ever had, Dana. It was like breathing under water. Everything
tingled and the pain stopped for a little while. I don't remember anything
else after that until I woke up here."
Scully thought about what he'd said, and then asked the question
that she'd been leading up to. "Mulder....don't you feel 'cheated' at not
being able to remember what happened to you?"
He knew she was referring to her own feelings at being unable to
remember what had happened to her as well as his own. His eyes suddenly
crinkled with amusement as he considered his answer.
"No, I don t, he said. What I feel most is gratitude that we're
both *alive* to contemplate feeling 'cheated'. Anyway, speaking as a
person who's been cursed with remembering everything that I've ever seen in
my whole goddamn life.....being able to forget something is a
freaking.....luxury.
His face took on a pained expression, and Dana was just about to
call for the doctor when he stopped her. "No, it s not that, he said. I
just remembered that your mom was here earlier. She *insisted* that my
feet looked 'cold' and put socks on them." He wiggled his toes for
emphasis. "Could you please take 'em off and tell her that I'm a big boy
and I don't *want* socks on.....please*?" he asked with a pleading look in
his eyes.
Dana chuckled loudly. "Is she coming back today?"
"Yeah, this afternoon," he grunted.
"In that case it would be in your best interest to smile
graciously, leave the socks where they are, and don't contradict
her.....arguing with my mother is a no win situation."
"Sort of like arguing with you," he intoned softly.
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
"I said, 'she's a lot like you'," he corrected smoothly.
Dana knew that wasn t what she d heard the first time, but she
decided to let it slide. After all, he *was* still recovering. "Melissa
said that she'd stop in tomorrow to see you on her way to Key West," she
told him, settling into the chair beside his bed and reaching out for his
hand.
He nodded in acknowledgment and thought with trepidation about
having three 'Scully' women in one place at one time.....<I'm not strong
enough for this yet> He was surrounded by them...hell, he was up to his
ass in them with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Shit, falling into a
black hole suddenly looked pretty damn attractive.
Nah... deep down inside, he knew he loved them all----one in
particular...

Fine.

Can you believe it?? Stinker's "speechless"... or at least too
tired to write something here, so you all are stuck with me. We didn't
intend for this story to be sooooo long when we first started... or we may
never have started at all. Somewhere during the second month of writing,
we started calling it the "unofficial" X Files novel, which I changed just
a tad in the sub-title as a way to acknowledge all the wonderful fellow
Philes I've met on line... including Stinker, my writing partner. Wonder
if Morgan and Wong got started this way??? See you all on line...

Annie....
January 31, 1995

M&S---EP---GLWG---Smoker for Scully--------------------Queen of Angst

XAngst Anonymous ELVIS PRESLEY, DEAD AT 42
and Myth Patrol "Oh, no!"
Construction Site -- Mulder, "Home"

"Meanwhile, I've quit the FBI, and become a spokesperson
for the Ab-Roller."
-- Scully, "Home"

xangst@frii.com------------Die-Hard Skinner Chick---------Dean Warner

**********************************************************************
_ _
\ / For information on the XAngst Anonymous
\ / email fanfic list, please write:
X A N G S T Anonymous
/ \ & xangst@frii.com
/ \ The Myth Patrol Dean Warner--Founder and moderator
- -

**********************************************************************