~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ UNIVERSAL INVARIANTS by syntax6 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter One: White Night Language At the sink, Scully tore up spinach leaves with special ferocity. "Did I tell you he had a copy of my senior thesis? I don't even have a copy of my senior thesis." "You told me." Ethan lounged against the counter, popping the occasional cherry tomato in his mouth and looking like he'd lived in her kitchen forever instead of just for two months. At some point she was going to have to come clean to her parents about Ethan's new address. "I didn't even know I was getting this assignment until ten minutes before I met him, but someone sure tipped him off. I'm surprised he didn't want to discuss the spelling bee I won in third grade." "You won a spelling bee? I didn't know that." "Ghosts and goblins and little green men. I can tell you that's not what I had in mind when I joined the FBI." She carried the salad bowl to the table. "Still, I guess it's nice to finally get into the field." "What was the word?" "Hmm?" "The word you won the spelling bee with." "Oh. Lugubrious." He grinned and shook his head as she removed the salmon from the broiler. "I think it's kind of hot." "That I won a third-grade spelling bee?" He came up behind her while she garnished the fish with fresh dill. "That you're in the field now," he said, looping his arms around her. He kissed her neck. "My girlfriend is a bad-ass FBI agent. After dinner, you can show me your gun." Scully laughed. "You've seen my gun plenty by now, I should think." "So you can tell me war stories. What's out in Oregon that warrants attention from the FBI?" She wrested free of his arms. "You know I can't talk about it." "Aw, come on. It's not like Oregon's my beat, so what does it matter? You know I won't tell anyone." "I know. But I'd rather not set the precedent." He sighed. "There goes all the fun dinner conversation." "We can still talk about your work. What did you do today?" "Filmed senate testimony on the new environmental bill. Let me tell you -- the only thing less exciting than watching grass grow is listening to the suits talking about the grass growing." "Dinner's ready. I'm just going to grab a couple of fresh candles." "So, is he cute?" Scully stopped and turned. "What?" "The imperious Fox Mulder. Is he cute?" "Does it matter?" Ethan shrugged. "Instead of going away with me this weekend, you're going to Oregon with him. I figure I should size up the competition." "It's a case, Ethan. Not a romantic get-away." "Yeah, but this guy's your partner now, right? You're going to be spending a lot of time with him." Scully thought back to her meeting with Chief Blevins earlier that afternoon. *Am I understanding correctly that you want me to debunk the X-Files?* she had asked. "Not necessarily," she told Ethan, and went in search of candles. "Hey!" He called after her. "You never answered my question!" That night in bed, Ethan's hands wandered under her pajama top. He kissed her cheek, her temple, and then nuzzled her ear. "One for the road," he breathed suggestively as his fingers grazed her belly. Scully hummed a reply, her eyes closed. She was picturing her med school textbooks where they sat on the bookshelf near her desk. Mulder would have more questions tomorrow, tossing fact and fiction at her in equal measure and expecting her to find the truth. She would bet dollars to donuts Mulder wasn't home getting "one for the road." He was probably caressing a file folder and inventing new hypotheses, each more ludicrous than the last. She was going to have to come armed with evidence if she hoped to shoot him down. "You feel so good," Ethan murmured. "Ethan, I -- " Scully broke off as his hand slipped between her legs. "You what?" he teased against her neck. "I need to check something." "Mmm?" Her lips parted as her body arched under his touch. "I -- oh." Ethan's head disappeared beneath the sheets and all thoughts of aliens and Fox Mulder disappeared with him. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Ow, Jesus. Don't you guys ever clean this thing off?" Mulder removed a handful of shells from under his ass. "If you didn't come over here and leave such a mess, we wouldn't have to," Frohike replied. Nominally, Mulder was there to watch Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life," with the group, but Byers was the only one sitting with him on the sofa. Frohike worked in the galley kitchen preparing chili while Langly fooled around with a pile of electronics and a cell phone. "I'll do yours next, Mulder," he said. "Wireless internet from anywhere. Think of the possibilities." "Great. I can check my email from the john." He took a long sip of beer. "It'll be another way for us to keep in touch with you," Byers said. "We worry when you're out there all by yourself." "Not anymore," Mulder said around another swig. "I've got a new partner." Both Langly and Frohike looked up. "Since when?" Langly asked. "Today. Her name's Dana Scully." Frohike let out a low whistle. "A G-woman. Sweet." "Hardly sweet. You should see her file. Skipped grades, straight As. Not one black mark anywhere. This one's wound so tight you could bounce a quarter off her." "A real tight-ass, huh?" Frohike said. "What'd you do to finally merit a partner?" "She's not there for me. She's there for them. They sent her down to keep an eye on me and report back." "A spy?" Byers asked. Mulder shrugged. "She's green, maybe doesn't know any better. Maybe she thinks doing their bidding is a fast track to the top. Either way, I give her a month. Two tops." "You want us to check her out?" Frohike asked. "I already did. She's a Navy brat. Parents live in the area. Two brothers in the military. She's got a TV journalist boyfriend living with her." "Media, huh? Could be trouble." Mulder finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the end table. "Thought of that. Guess I'll have to take my chances." "We could bug her place," Langly offered. Mulder hesitated. *I'm looking forward to working with you,* she had said. Strong handshake for such a small person. "No," he said at last. "No bugs. Not yet." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ She noticed he had not gotten them seats together, exactly. She had the aisle on one side and Mulder had the window across the way. Whoever had his aisle seat did not show up, however, so Mulder took the opportunity to stretch out across all three seats. Twenty minutes in, he reached down and retrieved a large sheaf of folders, which he handed back across over his head to her. "A little light reading for the flight," he said. Scully accepted the pile onto her lap and took out her glasses to begin reading. If the folders were any evidence, Fox Mulder possessed a thorough and organized mind. He had newspaper clippings and police reports on each mysterious death. Any notes he had made, however, were conspicuously absent. She sneaked a look at him while she read. He had headphones on and she tried to guess what he might be listening to - alternative rock? Alien whale song? On their descent the plane hit bad turbulence, rocking the cabin as its metallic belly pitched and rolled. People screamed and Scully gripped her seat. Only Mulder remained languid and calm, as if he were somewhere else. As if, Scully thought afterward, he has seen his future written down and knows his time is not yet up. ~*~*~*~*~*~ He keeps orange spray paint in the car, Scully said to herself as she watched Mulder draw a large "X" in the middle of the street. We're in town for three minutes and we're going to be arrested for vandalism. "What the hell was that about?" Scully asked when he had finished. "Oh, you know. Probably nothing." He walked past and got in the car, leaving her standing on the outside. He had started the engine and put the car in gear by the time Scully took her seat. "So you just drive on, placing graffiti around town every time your radio reception gets fuzzy?" "Something like that, yes." He glanced sideways at her, amused. Scully did not look back. No man could be this crazy and still be a special agent in the FBI. Clearly, he was toying with her. The random behavior was designed to increase her confusion and discomfort. Mulder gave her another sly look. "I wasn't going to tell you this so soon, Scully. But you're part of the 'X' gang now. We spread our colors across the US, marking our territory. I expect you to get City Hall. Don't worry. I'll keep the car running and the mayor's a short fat guy." She couldn't help it. She smiled. Before she could reply, her cell phone rang and she dug it out. "Scully," she said. "Hey, cutie. Your flight go okay?" "It was fine." "You found any aliens yet?" Scully turned her head to the window. "Can I call you back later?" Ethan laughed. "He's there, huh? Tell him I said, 'boo!'" "Good-bye, Ethan," she replied, with equal parts affection and exasperation. She tucked her phone away, and Mulder was looking at her again. "Boyfriend?" "Personal, yes." "Personal." He gripped the wheel. "Got it." It was her turn to give him a look. "His name is Ethan," she said, not sure why she was telling him. Mulder studied the road. "The cemetery is just up here on the left. The sheriff is meeting us there." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The large breasted blonde gyrated on top of a well-oiled stud, both "oohing" and "aahing" but looking more like they were contemplating laundry than orgasm. Mulder chewed a seed and watched the Skin-a-max show without really seeing it. His thoughts were on Scully, or more aptly, on the evidence she had collected. At last he had a body -- possibly extraterrestrial -- and an implant to match. Scully might be a thin-lipped, tight-ass but she knew her way around a morgue. The TV set flickered with a crack of thunder and then blacked out. Mulder swallowed a curse and rummaged around in the bedside drawer for some candles he had seen earlier. So much for Scully as a good luck charm, he thought. He was contemplating a shower when there came a sharp knock at his door. Mulder opened it to find Scully outside with a waterfall of rain washing behind her, wearing just her robe and slippers. Her hair was a wavy mess and her eyes were wide. "Hi," he said. The wind threatened to douse his candle. Scully sounded shaky. "I want you to look at something." "Come on in." He shut the door behind her and Scully turned with her back to him. She paused just a second before shrugging the robe off her shoulders and down past her hips. Mulder tightened his hold on the candle. Scully looked over her shoulder at her lower back, and Mulder followed her gaze to the small bumps clustered there. The sound of her heightened breathing filled the room as he crept closer. Mulder knelt with his candle, the scent of her skin and hot wax mingling in his nose as he studied the bumps. "What are they?" Scully asked, her voice high and scared. The warm glow accented the curve of her hip. Mulder touched her, his fingertips lingering at the edge of her panties. He could feel her tremble. "Mulder, what are they?" Mulder smiled. "Mosquito bites." "Are you sure?" He stood, still grinning. "Yeah, I got eaten up alive out there myself." Scully threw herself at him, arms tight around his chest. Mulder rocked back at the unexpected contact and then patted her gingerly on the shoulder. Scully buried herself against him. He held as still as he could, feeling a bit like the aliens he was always chasing. His skin tingled and his ears grew warm. He could not remember the last time someone had hugged him. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ They shared their first big laugh together in the driving rain, standing over an open grave. Water ran down his neck into his clothes. His shoes sloshed when he walked. Scully had shrunk another size with her clothes and hair plastered to her body, but she smiled at him. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said. "Where are we going?" "We're going to pay a visit to Billy Miles." She skipped a step to keep pace with him. "Now? Like this? It's four thirty am and we're soaking wet. They'll never let us in the door." "I'm all for gussying up, Scully, but might I remind you our motel burned to the ground a few hours ago?" "Give me the keys," she said. "I've got an idea." Mulder stopped a few feet from the car. "What?" She crossed her arms. "You want dry underwear?" He blinked, and she must have taken that as an affirmative because she held out a hand. "Then give me the keys." Fifteen minutes later, they were parked behind the Bellefleur Laundromat, "Duds and Suds." "That's great," Mulder remarked, "but how do you propose we get in?" "Watch and learn," Scully told him. He followed her to the back door, where she withdrew a nail file from her pocket. She slipped it in the lock, and a few moments later, the rickety door opened. She turned around to smile at him. "Ta-da." "They don't teach that at the Academy," Mulder said. "That's not where I learned it." Scully went inside without elaboration, so Mulder followed her into the darkness. When he reached for the lights, she stopped him. "Don't want anyone driving past to see us," she said. He tilted his head at her. "You're just a little too practiced at this." Her laughter bounced off all the hard porcelain. She disappeared into the back while Mulder stood dripping on the floor. The only illumination came from the occasional flashes of lightening flashing through the large front windows. Scully returned with her wet clothes under one arm. She wore a pair of baggy shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Mulder gaped. "Where'd you get the clothes?" "Laundromats always have stray clothes that people leave behind. Haven't you ever been in a coin operated laundry before?" He shook his head, and her brow wrinkled. "Not even in college?" "I, uh, I had a laundry service." He couldn't see, but he felt her roll her eyes at him. "Well, it's self-service here," she said. "You have quarters?" She walked barefoot across the room to the dryers while Mulder fumbled in his wet pants. "I'm going to go change." He scrounged up some ill-fitting clothes of his own, and when he returned, Scully was sitting on top of a washing machine while her clothes tumbled in the dryer. "So," she said while he loaded up a second machine, "burned motel rooms, disappearing corpses -- this is par for the course around here?" "I told you they're willing to do whatever it takes to keep the evidence buried." Scully was quiet for a minute. "Then why not shut you down completely?" "I don't know." He shot her a hard look. "You tell me." "I'm not here to shut you down, Mulder. I don't have that kind of power, even if I wanted to." "Power?" he asked. "Is that what you want?" Scully took a breath. "I'm not here to sink you," she reiterated. "I'm here for the truth." "Suppose the truth is burned motel rooms and disappearing corpses. What then?" Lightening flashed and he saw her mouth twitch. "Then we hide the evidence and move the bodies." He smiled and shook his head. "Listen," Scully said, "they - whoever they are -- they can't burn motel rooms forever. If the evidence is out there, we'll find it." "Talk to me again in five years," Mulder answered. They stared at once another across the room. It was the first time he'd acknowledged she might be there past tomorrow. Mulder turned away and studied the rumbling machines. "So how long does this thing take?" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ They sat together on the plane home, Mulder dozing in the aisle seat while Scully rested her head against the window. Outside the sky had inverted, twinkling lights of the cities below forming starry constellations beneath her feet. Maybe we're all aliens, she thought, and then had to stop herself from hysterical laughter. She fingered their lone piece of evidence hidden deep in her pocket. A good night's sleep would help her see things clearly again. Mulder roused, head swinging around to look at her. "What?" she asked when he did not say anything. His hand stretched out and he gently stroked her temple. "That's quite a lump you've got there. Maybe you should see a doctor." "I am a doctor." His touch remained with her until she bent her head. "I'm okay. Really." Satisfied, he pulled away. "We'll be landing soon. You need a ride home from the airport or is Eric picking you up?" "Ethan." "Ethan. Right." "I'm set, thanks." Ethan had promised to meet the flight. It must have been the wrong answer because Mulder didn't speak to her again until the plane touched down. "Here's your bag," he said, handing it down to her. They trailed off with the rest of the rumpled passengers. Scully smiled when she saw Ethan waiting for her at the gate. He waved a bouquet of flowers as she wheeled her suitcase over to him. "Welcome home," he said, and pulled her close for a warm kiss. She hugged him tight. "Glad to be back." He handed her the flowers and scanned the people exiting behind her. "So do I get to meet this Mulder?" "Sure. He's right --" Scully turned around but Mulder was gone. "here." She stood on tiptoes to search the crowd, but the effort proved fruitless. Mulder had vanished into the ether. "Another time, I guess," Scully said. Ethan had already moved on. "Come on, I'm parked pretty close." He took her bag and her hand. Scully strained for one last look before following him out into the warm night. ~*~*~*~*~*~ At home, she could not sleep despite her exhaustion. Ethan spooned against her, his arm heavy across her waist. "So how was your first trip into the field?" he'd asked in the car. "Wet," she'd replied, and fussed with her hair to hide the bump. The rain had caught up with her, trickling down the window and creating sliding shadows on the wall. She caught the phone on its first ring. Mulder's low voice came through the line. She found she was not surprised to hear from him despite the fact that she had not given him her unlisted home phone number. "I talked to the DA in Raymond County, Oregon," he said. "There is no casefile on Billy Miles. The paperwork we filed is gone. We need to talk, Scully." "Y-yes. Tomorrow." She hung up and settled back in bed, her mind whirring. Remember to ask him about the smoking man, she thought. What does he do in Blevins's office? Ethan stirred behind her, a million miles away. "Anyone important?" he mumbled. "No," she said. "Just work." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ End part one. Continued in part two. Heaps of thanks to Amanda for proofing! As ever, I love to yak at syn_tax6@yahoo.com.