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UNIVERSAL INVARIANTS

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by syntax6


Chapter Two: What the Blind Man Saw


Scully had the route to the basement mapped by now, but the 
journey was never familiar.  Each time she descended the 
steps, a new collection of old boxes, abandoned storage 
shelves and dead computers laid in wait.  

She navigated past the dangling cords and sharp corners to 
find Mulder's office door open but no Mulder inside.

Scully entered slowly, taking this first opportunity to stare 
at Mulder's game trophies covering the walls.  He had 
newspaper clippings of a man with three arms and pictures of 
lights in the sky over West Virginia. On the shelf sat 
something that appeared to be genuine moon rock.  Scully 
smiled as she rubbed it with one finger.

A parrot that could predict the future.  Missing gemstones in 
Russia.  Doodles, sketches, grainy photos -- all of it cast 
under the faintly green tinge of the fluorescent lighting.

Mulder had assembled a shrine to urban legend.

Scully shook her head and turned to study his desk, stacked 
high in books and papers.  Peeking out on one side sat a four 
by six framed photo.  Scully glanced at the door before 
picking up the picture.

It was a simple frame for a simple scene -- a young boy and 
girl posed near a backyard tree.  This must be the sister, 
Scully thought, stroking her small cold face through the 
glass.  Mulder looked about eleven years old.

"Step right up," he said, jolting her into a guilty flush. He 
stood in the doorway sipping coffee.  "It's the greatest show 
on earth."

"Sorry," she said quickly as she replaced the picture.  "I 
didn't mean to pry.  You weren't here, and I -- "

"It's okay."  He walked into the room and picked up the photo 
she had just replaced.  He studied it as he took another swig 
of coffee.  "Look around all you like."  His dark eyes 
flashed at her.  "I have no secrets."

"It's quite a collection you have," Scully said, turning 
around to admire his wall again.  She squinted.  A faded 
yellow newspaper headline read, "FBI HUNTS LOCAL COMMUNISTS." 
"Leesberg, Virginia, 1952?" Scully asked.

Mulder set down the coffee.  "My first X-File."

"Communism was an X-File?"

"Communism was an excuse to hide the X-Files."

"Oh, of course," Scully said in perfect non-agreement.

Mulder grinned.  "Don't tell me you didn't put your first 
case up on your wall."

Scully's cubicle wall displayed departmental extension 
numbers and a calendar courtesy of the American Red Cross.  
"My first case was ID'ing a mother of two killed in the last 
Amtrek crash.  Not really something you want to remember."

"Amtrek?  Wasn't that just a few months ago?"

He was all wide-eyed and innocent, but Scully heard the 
undercurrent of challenge.  Her chin rose.  "More like a 
year."

Mulder shrugged.  "Tough case."

"Yeah."  She stroked the smooth edge of his desk and watched 
him out of the corner of her eye.

"What?" he asked at last.

"I was just wondering... all these pictures are from the X-
Files.  I don't see anything here from the BSU or Violent 
Crimes.  Monty Props.  Len Boyd Follet.  You did such amazing 
work there..."

He just looked at her, and Scully felt her face warm.

"I'm sorry.  It's really none of my business."

"Those cases are all solved.  Over."  Scully waited and he 
continued.  "I don't keep these things tacked up here to 
remind myself of the answers, Scully.  I keep them to remind 
me of the questions."

He tapped his sister's photo against his palm and set it back 
on the desk.

"And the communist X-File from 1952?" she asked.

His head came up.  "Still unsolved."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was packing when Ethan entered the bedroom eating an 
apple.  "Oh, great.  Where is it this time?" he asked, but 
his tone was teasing.

"Idaho."

"A swarm of killer potatoes?"

Scully smiled as she folded a sweater.  "Something like 
that."

He flopped on the bed next to her suitcase and continued 
crunching his apple.  "Hey, are you going to be back by 
Friday?  We have the dinner thing."

"Oh, right, the dinner thing." Ethan had won an award for a 
piece he'd done last fall on Willie Holcomb, an ex-con blind 
man who now made a living helping cops figure out crime 
scenes.  "I should be back," Scully hedged, though she truly 
had no real idea.  How long did it take to recover an Army 
Colonel kidnapped by the US government?

"You'd better be back or I'll be forced to take your mom 
instead."

"Oh, god. Mom."

"Don't tell me you haven't told her yet."

"No, but if you pick up the phone while I'm gone that ought 
to get the job done."

"Oh, no."  He rolled off the bed.  "You have to own that one 
all by yourself.  Besides, with my luck, it would be your dad 
calling."

"Dad likes you," Scully protested as he left the room.

Ethan stuck his head back in.  "I was a theater major in 
college, Dana.  Your dad thinks I am a pansy-assed fairy."

"I happen to like your pansy ass."

"Why, thank you."  He wiggled it at her as he disappeared 
again, and Scully laughed.

When he returned a few moments later, he tossed a video tape 
at her.  It landed on the corner of the bed.  "What's this?" 
she asked.

"I had some free time this morning so I did a little checking 
into your Mulder."

Scully frowned.  "He's not my Mulder."

"The guy's been involved in some big cases.  I'm surprised I 
haven't crossed paths with him before."  Since Scully made no 
move toward the tape, Ethan picked it up and stuck it in the 
VCR.  He snapped on the TV.  "And I found out why you were 
ducking my question, by the way.  Melinda assures me that 
Agent Mulder is an *extreme* hottie."

"There's news.  Melinda finds some male attractive.  Put that 
on your six o'clock broadcast, right after 'sun rises in the 
east' and 'Pope declares Catholicism.'" 

"Funny," Ethan replied as the tape began to play.

Audio preceded the video by a half second, Mulder's voice 
filling her bedroom.  "...all just relieved he's home 
safely."

"This is from the Singleton kidnapping a few years back," 
Ethan said.  "Mulder found the boy hidden on the uncle's 
farm."

Mulder stood under the white camera lights, looking a bit 
more like the young man from his desktop photo.  Scully stood 
transfixed as he explained away the case as if it were a 
routine training exercise.

"How did you know Joey hadn't been abducted by a stranger?" a 
reporter asked from off-camera.

"His backpack was found at the scene, but its contents were 
empty.  A stranger wouldn't have let him take those 
belongings with him."

"But how did you focus in on the uncle?"

Mulder wiped his nose on his sleeve, a gesture Scully found 
endearing.  "Once you know it's personal, you start looking 
for someone who might have wanted to take the boy.  Mr. 
Singleton had lost his son and his brother -- Joey's father -
- in a car accident last year, putting him on a short list of 
suspects."

"What a waste," said Ethan, tucking a pillow beneath his 
head.

"What?" Scully was still watching Mulder.

"Here's a guy who was doing important work -- finding kids, 
putting away monsters -- and he gives it all up to chase 
after ET and the Tooth Fairy.  How many people are dead 
because this guy'd rather play Ghostbusters than deal with 
the real world?"

"That's not fair."

"Isn't it?  Ask that little boy's mom how she feels about 
Mulder's new career."

"I'm sure she still considers him a hero."

"Maybe."  He got up from the bed.  "But the rest of the FBI 
sure doesn't.  Remember that."  He kissed her cheek.  "Safe 
trip, okay?  Call me when you get there."

He walked out and Mulder was still talking from the TV.

"No.  No, I don't consider Singleton evil. He made a terrible 
mistake.  His family had fallen apart.  He-- he just wanted 
his little boy back."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Leave this case alone," the man in the tavern bathroom had 
said.  "You are exposing yourself and Agent Scully to 
unnecessary risk."

Mulder had not told Scully about his strange episode in the 
bathroom; in a flash, he'd wondered if maybe she was in on 
the whole mysterious encounter -- how else did the man know 
where to find them?

Privately, he figured he was getting the green light.  By now 
the men who watched him must know orders to "stay away" were 
most guaranteed to make him chase a case.  Danger was 
relative.  He had slipped inside serial killers and seen the 
world through evil eyes.

So far by comparison, the X-Files were a cakewalk.

Scully yawned at his right.  They were due to land in Idaho 
soon.  "So tell me," she said, turning her cheek toward him.  
"Is there ever an X-File in California?  Or Paris?"

He turned his head to match her; their noses were inches 
apart.  "Oh, I see.  You're hoping to investigate someplace a 
little more high brow?"

"I'd settle for somewhere in civilization."  She looked up at 
him with guileless eyes.  "You never answered my question, 
Mulder.  Are we really going all the way out here to hunt 
UFOs?"

"I told you why we're going."

"Ah, yes."  She sighed and faced forward again.  "The 
distinctive paranormal bouquet."  After a moment of thought, 
she turned to him.  "You should really teach me to pick up 
the scent, you know.  If we're going to be working together 
I'm going to need to be able to identify this paranormal 
odor."

Her words were perfectly serious but the light in her eyes 
told him she was yanking his chain. He licked his lips and 
leaned down.  She smelled like citrus.  "You really want to 
know?" he whispered.

Her breath caught but she held his gaze.  "I asked, didn't 
I?"

Mulder pretended to check out the plane to make sure no one 
was listening.  "You're in a room with three switches.  Down 
the hall in another room are three light bulbs.  Neither room 
has any windows.  The three switches turn the bulbs on and 
off, but they aren't marked.  You have to figure out which 
switch goes with which bulb, but you can only make *one* 
visit to the room with the bulbs in it."

Her brow did that wrinkle he had already learned preceded, 
"Mulder, you're crazy."

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked.

He sat back.  "It's a riddle."

"What does the riddle have to do with the X-Files?"

"Solve it and you'll find out."

He picked up a magazine and scanned the page, all the while 
watching Scully's brain chew on the puzzle.  She shifted in 
her seat to face him.  "There isn't some alien that comes in 
and works the lights, is there?"

"Please," he scoffed.  "This has nothing to do with aliens."

"I thought you said-"

"Solve it," he told her again.  "And you'll see."

The plane touched down and Scully had not figured out the 
solution.  They retrieved their bags from the luggage 
carousel, Scully struggling as hers came off at an awkward 
angle.

"Need a hand?" he offered.

"No."

He gave her a sly smile.  "Need a hint?"

"No!"

Mulder whistled as he walked away with Scully trailing close 
behind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Local journalist Paul Mosinger waved at them as they drove 
away from Colonel Kissel's house.  Scully answered with a 
half-smile, but Mulder had already moved on mentally to their 
next destination: the Flying Saucer.

"He was just doing his job, you know," Scully said.

"Huh?"

"Mosinger. You gave him almost as chilly a reception as 
Kissel gave us.  He's just trying to get a story together."

Mulder glanced at her.  "Make note, Scully: the media is 
usually not your friend."

"He gave you the information you wanted, didn't he?"

"For now."  He met her eyes again.  "But there's always a 
price."

She shook her head.  "Not everyone is out to get you, 
Mulder."

"Well, as my father used to say: they ain't all out to be 
your friend, either."


Later that night, Scully slept in the car while Mulder 
watched the light show over Ellens Air Force Base. The two 
lighted craft danced a delicate ballet across the sky, zig-
zagging among the stars.  Mulder grinned, enchanted.  He 
wished they would come closer so he could get a better look.

He tore his gaze away long enough to see Scully still slumped 
in her seat.  The UFOs had been active nearly thirty minutes, 
but he had not gone to wake her.  Anything she saw, she was 
liable to write down in her little notebook and report back 
to the men upstairs.

The aircraft swooped and rose again.  Mulder laughed.

Fuck it, he thought.  At least this will shut her up. 
*There's no such thing as UFOs, Agent Mulder.*

Mulder bounded down the hill and opened her car door.  
"Scully, wake up!  You've got to see this!"

He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him.  For a few 
seconds, she seemed as amazed as he was.  Then reality set 
in.

"Those can't be aircraft."

"What else can they be?"

"I don't know.  Lasers, maybe.  Reflecting off all the 
clouds."

Yeah, that might be it, Mulder told her silently.  It was his 
turn to roll his eyes.

Write what you want in your little book, he thought.  You're 
my proof now.

If the men were offering Scully as a pawn, it was up to him 
to capture her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later, after they had been stopped, searched and robbed in 
the middle of the road by men dressed in government suits, 
Mulder looked across the roof of the car at her.  "You were 
saying," he said through gritted teeth, "about how not 
everyone is out to get me."

Scully came around to him while what was left of their papers 
blew away in the wind.  "Are you okay?"

"Just your standard knee to the kidney," he said.  "I'll be 
fine."

Scully picked up the blurry UFO picture he had purchased from 
the diner.  "At least you're not out twenty bucks.  I guess 
it must not be terribly damning evidence if they declined to 
take it with them."

Mulder leaned against the car.  "But look at all they did 
take."  He hit the roof with his fist.  "Dammit!"

"I don't understand," Scully said over the rushing wind.  
"What's going on, Mulder?  Why is it every time we scrape 
together a little documentation, someone comes along to 
destroy it?"

"Because they are paid to bury the truth."

"What truth?  The truth about aliens?"

"You saw what truth!"  She shook her head.  "Scully, you 
saw."

"I don't know what I saw," she replied, arms folded.

Mulder swallowed a curse.  "You saw those men.  You saw what 
they just did to us.  That should be proof."

"Proof of what?"

"That I'm not crazy."

Scully pursed her lips.  But she did not contradict him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Scully curled in the chair, trying to doze under the musty 
blanket.  When her cell phone rang, she grabbed it before it 
could wake Mulder.  "Hello?" she said, her voice raspy from 
lack of sleep.

"Hey, did I wake you?" Ethan's warm greeting eased a bit of 
her tension.

She glanced at Mulder before rising from her chair and 
walking toward the privacy of the bathroom.  "No, I was 
awake."

"How are you?  What's going on?"

Oh, I'm fine, she thought.  I just assaulted a military 
security officer and busted my drugged-up partner out of a 
top-secret air force base.

"Nothing much.  Just doing a little reading before bed."

"Why are you whispering?"

Scully cleared her throat.  "Thin walls."

"Yeah?"  He chuckled.  "Mulder getting any action?"

"You seem to have a very confused idea of what we do on these 
trips, Ethan."

"Hey, you won't give me details, so I'm left with my 
imagination."

"Imagine flea-bag motel rooms and pasty diner food."

"I like my version better," he replied. 

Behind her, Mulder stirred.  "Listen, I've got to go," she 
said.  "I'll be home tomorrow for your dinner, okay?"

"Glad to hear it.  Night, Dana.  Love you."

"Me too."  She clicked off the phone.

"Me too," Mulder croaked from the bed.  "So sweet. Did you 
mention the part where you drugged me senseless and had your 
wicked way with me?"

"I take it you're feeling better," she said, walking over to 
him.

"Yeah.  Still don't remember much, though."

"That will teach you to run off on your own, now won't it?"

Mulder did not give her a direct answer.  "So how exactly did 
you get me out?"

"Threatened him with media exposure."  She smiled.  
"Sometimes the media *are* your friends."

"Yeah, I guess they aren't all bad."  He smiled back.  
"Thanks for coming after me."

She nodded, suddenly shy.  She took a deep breath.  "I should 
get some sleep then.  We've got an early flight."

"'Kay."  Mulder punched his pillow and rolled to his side.  
She could feel him watching her as she gathered her things to 
go.  "You figure out the riddle yet?" he asked.

She paused at the door.  "I haven't exactly had much time to 
think about it, now have I?"  She hesitated and turned again.  
His eyes glinted at her in the low light.  "I'll take the 
hint."

He shook his head, hair rustling on the pillow.  "Changed my 
mind.  You'll get it eventually."

She shook her head and sighed.  "Good night, Mulder."

"Night."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Wow, you look amazing," Ethan said, naked appreciation in 
his gaze.  His hand grazed her naked back as Scully finished 
pinning up her hair.

"You look rather delectable yourself," she replied as their 
eyes met in the mirror.  Ethan always did clean up well. 
"Answer me straight: would you really have taken my mother if 
I hadn't made it back in time?"

"Maybe your father," he said, and she swatted him on the 
backside.  He left the room but his voice carried back to 
her. "I probably would have taken Melinda.  She helped shoot 
the piece anyway."

On their way out the door, Scully's phone rang.  Ethan stood 
impatient with the car keys in his hand.  Scully hesitated at 
moment but pushed him through the door.  "Let it go," she 
said.  "The machine will get it."

Ethan rewarded her with a dazzling smile.

No one clapped harder than she when Ethan received his plaque 
-- not even Willie Holcomb himself, who was seated to her 
left.  Willie hooked his pinkie fingers in his mouth and let 
out a loud whistle.

"Mighty Minette!" he hollered, and Scully smiled.

"I've seen the piece Ethan did about you," she told him.  
"It's quite an interesting life you've led."

"Interesting?  Miss, have you seen this beard?  You don't get 
this gray being merely interestin'."  He grinned at his own 
wit, crinkling the lines at his eyes.  "Ethan tells me you're 
in law enforcement."

"FBI, yes." Scully sipped her water.

"I worked for the FBI once," Willie replied.  "Senator's wife 
found dead, maybe suicide."

"You worked for the FBI?"

"Yep indeed.  A man by the name of Fox Mulder called me in."

Scully choked on her water, and Willie patted her on the 
back.  "Whoa, there.  You all right?"

"Yes."  Leave it to Mulder to bring a blind man in to solve 
an FBI case, she thought.  "What did Mulder want you to do?"

"Check out the hotel room where she was found." He shook his 
head.  "Lotta sadness in that room.  Terrible shame.  But a 
suicide it was.  We found a suicide note."

Scully couldn't see how they needed a blind man to find a 
note.  Willie read her mind because he leaned in to say, "She 
wrote it and burned it, see.  But she wrote it on top of the 
phone book.  Pen left an impression in the cover."

His fingers went to the white tablecloth as though he were 
reading it all over again.  "Dear Alan," he said.  "Seventeen 
years with you is more than I deserve.  Tell Maureen I love 
her.  Your faithful wife, Susan."

"Wow," Scully breathed.  "That is sad."

Willie shook his head.  "Terrible shame," he repeated.  He 
turned to her with unseeing eyes.  "You know Fox Mulder?"

"Yes, I know him."

"Brilliant man.  Intense as they come.  Truth be told, I'm 
kinda surprised he's still there."

"Why?"

"Figured he would have burned out by now.  Fire that bright, 
it doesn't last very long.  He consumed everything and 
everyone around him.  Eventually, I figured the fire would up 
and eat him, too."

Ethan returned to the table, plaque in hand.  "Hey, you two.  
No shoptalk tonight, okay?"

"Ethan, my man."  Willie shook his hand with a grin.  "Hang 
onto this one, you hear?  She talks real pretty."

"Oh, believe me, I will." Ethan kissed Scully.  Scully ducked 
her head.

She could still see the suicide note on the table.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Scully opened her eyes at precisely two AM. The apartment was 
silent. Ethan slept behind her.

She eased out from under his arm and crept into the other 
room.  The numbers on the phone glowed in the dark as she 
dialed Mulder's home.

"Hello?" he said, voice fuzzy.

"You can't do it by sight," she said.  "The riddle.  Turn one 
switch one for an hour.  One for just a minute.  Leave the 
other one off.  Go into the room with the bulbs and feel 
them.  The one that is hot goes to the switch left on an 
hour; the one that is warm goes to the switch left on a 
minute, and the cold one goes to the switch that was off."

She could hear him smiling.  "Not bad.  How'd you figure it 
out?"

"Someone reminded me tonight," she answered, "you can't 
always look with your eyes." She paused.  "I'll see you 
Monday, okay?"

"Monday it is."

She did not wake again until morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

End part two.  Continued in part three.

Mulder smooches to Amanda for proofing.  Any mistakes 
remaining are entirely my own.

Feedback makes me do the happy dance (sadly kind of similar 
to the white man's overbite, but still -- happy!)

Syn_tax6@yahoo.com