TITLE: It Came in the Mail AUTHOR: Forte E-MAIL: Forte1354@aol.com or Bjm1352@aol.com WEBPAGE: http://www.fortunecity.com/lavender/diaz/705/forte.html CATEGORY: SA SPOILERS: Closure, Requiem KEYWORDS: ScullyAngst, MSR (implied) SUMMARY: Someone's trying to tell Scully something. ARCHIVE: Gossamer/Ephemeral/Xemplary/M&S/Spooky awards site OK; anywhere else please ask first. DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Borrowed lovingly. They belong to CC, 1013, and FOX. FEEDBACK: Yes please -- it's better than chocolate! E-mail me at Forte1354@aol.com or Bjm1352@aol.com. SPECIAL THANKS: to Diana Battis. She inspired this fic, albeit tangentially. ************************ It Came in the Mail by Forte ************************ It came in the mail, without fanfare. It was Monday. For Scully, it was the beginning of the end. = = = = = = Monday night When Scully got home, it was close to 8 p.m. Morning sickness forced her to arrive at work late; in case an auditor was keeping track she was careful to stay at the office to make up the lost time. Not that her work stopped when she walked out of the Hoover Building. She plunked down her briefcase on the kitchen table and pulled out a thick file: purported UFO sightings in the Pacific Northwest. Research was on her agenda for the evening. Research for him, and sustenance for their baby. Scully gulped down a tall glass of vegetable juice (vitamins A and C, she told herself) and tossed a frozen dinner (protein and B-vitamins) into the microwave oven before carrying the file to the living room. She dropped the file on her desk, sending a cluster of tiny dust balls skittering across the smooth surface. She liked order, and cleanliness, but she certainly had no time to be Suzy Homemaker these days. Her Mom had offered to help: "Whatever I can do, Dana, just let me know." She'd even offered to replace her cross to buoy her spirits. Scully had politely declined that offer, but would it be awful to ask Mom to come clean before the dust bunnies and bathroom mildew took over? Scully wouldn't care, if it weren't for the baby. How would she be able to face Mulder if she hadn't taken the best possible care of his child? She made a mental note to call her mother the next day, and squatted to switch on the computer's surge suppressor. The waistband of her slacks squeezed her sides. She wished it were his hands instead. *The sooner you get to work, the sooner you get your wish* she chided herself. While the PC booted up, Scully went out to the building's lobby to collect her mail. She flipped through the pile as she walked back to her apartment. Bills, solicitations, catalogs -- how long before catalogs of baby things began to magically appear in her mailbox? -- and something else. A thick, spongy brown envelope, about six inches by nine, beaten up around the edges. Her name and address were typed on a white label, all capital letters, the ink smudged. Stamps adorned the envelope, but there was no postmark. No return address. *It's probably nothing.* Scully repeated those words to herself as she walked. But after so long with no solid leads about Mulder, she couldn't stifle her mixture of excitement and trepidation. Her hands trembled as she re-entered her apartment and closed the door, flipping the deadbolt without thought. Neither did she realize that she'd dumped the rest of the mail on the couch before she sank into the chair at her desk. She slipped an unmanicured finger under the flap and pulled. Tendrils of glue stretched between the flap and the rest of the envelope. For some reason the image made her feel nauseous, but she kept pulling until the envelope was open and she could see what was inside. Eventually, she moved from her seat. By then, the dinner she'd cooked had turned cold again. = = = = = = Tuesday afternoon "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Mom." "I told you, Dana, that I would do anything you needed me to do." "I know, Mom." Her voice broke just a little on the last syllable; she swallowed before continuing. "I'll see you tonight." "I'll bring dinner *and* a dust cloth, honey." There was a moment of warm silence over the phone line, then, "You'll get through this, Dana." This time Scully swallowed before speaking. "I know, Mom." "I love you, honey. I'll see you tonight." Scully's stomach tightened. *I love you too, Mom, but you're not the one I need to hear that from.* Ashamed, she said, "I love you too, Mom. Bye." She set down the receiver as the tears started. Damn, damn, DAMN hormones... thank God the office door was shut. She couldn't bear to have anyone see her like this. She jumped when the phone rang. One hand reached for the receiver; the other swiped at her damp cheeks and shoved her emotions into a dark corner of the room. "Scully." "Dana, it's Christine in Fingerprinting." She sat up straighter in Mulder's chair, heart racing. "What have you got for me, Christine?" "Why don't you come up to the lab, Dana. I think you'll want to see this for yourself." Scully was standing before the words left her lips. "I'll be right there." Ten minutes later, Scully stared at the images in front of her. "They're perfect matches," Christine said, gesturing at the two handprints on the computer screen. "All ten fingerprints are Agent Mulder's. It can't be anyone else." Scully didn't take her eyes from the screen. Mulder's hands. *Mulder's* hands. "And all of that came from the envelope?" "The inside, yes. As you know, the envelope is padded -- it's basically that plastic bubble wrap stuff, with the smooth back side towards the inside of the envelope. A great surface to put a handprint on. Lifting these was a piece of cake -- there was one handprint on each side of the inside of the envelope." Christine grinned. "I wish my job was always this easy." Scully turned to look at the technician, her pulse surging. "This was no accident, was it? Those prints were left on purpose." "In my opinion, yes. I don't see how anyone could accidentally put one full handprint down on one side of the envelope, and the other handprint on the other side." She shrugged. "Handprints in cement couldn't have been more obvious." Handprints in cement? Just like... Just like the ones Mulder had described to her. The ones his sister and Jeffrey Spender had made so many years ago. For a split second, Scully thought she would faint, as she had just before she'd learned of Mulder's disappearance. Then an adrenaline rush kicked in, and she was fine again. Better than fine, for the first time in too long. "Thank you, Christine. This was a tremendous help." "You're welcome, Dana. Anytime." But Scully was already out the door. Scully rushed into the basement office, mind racing. It was a leap of intuition. A leap of faith. A leap of Mulder proportions. He'd be proud, wouldn't he? He'd expected it. He knew she would figure it out. She threw herself into Mulder's chair in her excitement; had she not grabbed the desk with one hand the chair would have flown backwards. With her other hand she snatched up the phone and dialed an outside line. "Lone Gunmen." "It's me, Frohike," she declared, too breathless for her liking. The Gunman's tone turned urgent. "What is it, Scully? Is something up?" *YES!* she wanted to shout. *I need those fake ID's you're holding for me. I need to go to April Air Force Base. NOW!* But she knew that, in all likelihood, her FBI calls were monitored. She and the Gunmen had prepared a script for this kind of scenario. "I'm having a craving, Frohike," she told him, injecting as much calm into her voice as she could. "I need a big plate of your huevos rancheros, and I need it now." At first the Gunman didn't respond, and for a panic-stricken moment Scully thought he'd forgotten what they'd rehearsed. Then, bless him, he proved her wrong. "I'll start cooking right away, Scully," he stated. "They'll be whipped up in no time." = = = = = = Tuesday evening "Is everything ready, Frohike?" Scully cradled the phone receiver between shoulder and cheek as she filled the suitcase that lay open on her bed. "Yeah, Scully, these ID's are the best forgeries money can buy. Of course, this time's a freebie." Scully heard a muffled background sound over the phone line, then Frohike spoke again. "Langly says that he and Byers are on their way to pick you up. They'll be there within fifteen minutes. Your phone will ring once. Go out the back of the building." "If someone's watching me, Frohike, it doesn't matter which way I leave the building." "S'okay. Langly can lose anybody who tries to tail you. And we swept your apartment for bugs this afternoon, so I know nobody's listening to this conversation." Scully smiled, a tiny curl of her lips, but foreign enough over the last too-many weeks that it felt strange. "Thanks. I'll be waiting." There was a beat of silence before Frohike responded. "Scully... are you sure about this? Are you sure it isn't a trap? Why don't you let us go to the base with you?" "Because I need you three to keep monitoring satellite transmissions, Internet traffic, and anything else that can help me find him faster. But I know now where I need to start." "Well, Skinner then -- " "I can't tell him this, Frohike. I know he wants to help, but I also know that he's vulnerable. I never should have told him I was pregnant. I wasn't thinking clearly then, but I am now." The words had started to tumble from her mouth, and she paused to take a breath. "I have all the proof I need. I can't explain it, but I *know* this is right. I can feel it. I have to go." Frohike paused again. "All right. You win, Scully. But you'd better keep in touch, or I'll kick your ass when you get back, you hear me?" Scully's lips curled up further, no longer feeling so odd. "I will. I'll check in regularly, I promise. And you'd better call me the second you have any news for me." "Deal." The faux gruffness disappeared in the Gunman's next words. "And make sure you give Mulder a hug for us when you find him." Without warning, her eyes filled with tears. Damn hormones... A knock came at her apartment door. Who...? Oh, hell. Mom. "I will, Frohike. I gotta go." "Okay. Bye, Scully." The line disconnected; Scully replaced the receiver in its cradle and hurried to the living room. Her mother swept through the door when Scully opened it, rushing toward the kitchen without a "hello." Concerned, Scully pushed the door shut and followed. "Mom?" Her mother turned from the kitchen table, looking flushed. "Sorry, honey, that was heavy. I had to put it down before I dropped it." She gestured to a casserole on the table, then moved to give Scully a hug. Scully returned the embrace tightly, pushing away the guilt at what she was about to do. Her mother had to understand -- this was for Mulder. "Mom... I'm sorry, but I can't stay. I hate to do this to you when you came all this way and brought me dinner -- " she stopped when she realized that tears were coming down her cheeks. Not *again*. Scully sniffled and wiped the wetness away. "I'm sorry -- I keep doing that." Her mother smiled warmly. "That's all right, honey. I remember it well." Her smile slackened as her brow crinkled. "Why can't you stay? Where are you going?" Scully swallowed the lump that suddenly grew in her throat. "To find Mulder. He's left me a trail, Mom. I know where to start looking." Her mother's eyes grew large. "Dana! That's wonderful news! Where is he?" "I..." Her voice broke; she cursed her careening hormones and started over, straightening her spine. "I can't tell you, Mom. It could put you in danger." Her mother's face darkened and wrinkled with more frown lines. "And what about the danger to you, Dana?" "Mom -- I don't want to fight about this." Amazing that she was so calm, when only a moment earlier... "I have to go. Mulder sent me a message, a clue to where he is. I have to follow it, and I have to follow it now." "What message, Dana?" Her mother's voice held the same no-nonsense tone that she'd used when her children were much younger. "What did Fox send you? How do you know it's from him?" Scully bit her lower lip, trying to summarize Mulder's unspoken, unwritten message. *It's me, Scully, I'm here, I need you, come get me...* Would her mother understand? Would her mother believe as she did? She took a breath. "Mom -- " And then the phone rang. Scully twisted her head toward the phone. It didn't ring again. "Mom, I have to go now." Without waiting for a response, Scully turned and went to her bedroom. She glanced at her open suitcase, concluded that she had everything she needed, and zipped it shut. She pulled the suitcase off the bed and turned around. Her mother stood in the doorway. "Dana Katherine," she started, and Scully felt a dread growing. *Not now, Mom, no lectures now, please don't get in my way...* Then her mother surprised her by walking up to her and giving her another hug. Scully wrapped her free arm around her mother's shoulders and squeezed with all her might. Her mother released her and pulled back, then placed her hands on Scully's shoulders. To Scully's shock, a tear rolled down her mother's cheek, although her eyes flashed anger as they drilled into her. "Dana, you've always gone your own way. I've never stopped you before, and I won't stop you now. But I swear to you, if anything happens to you or to your baby..." She stood back, her arms dropping to her sides, and let her expression finish her sentence. Scully nodded once, staring at her mother. Finally the older woman's features softened, as Scully knew they would, and her gaze shifted from Scully's face to her neckline. Mrs. Scully blinked, then took a step forward and lifted one hand to touch her daughter. "Dana... where did this come from?" Before Scully could answer, the phone rang again. Once. *Hurry up, Scully.* This time Scully didn't look at the phone, but kept her gaze on her mother's face. Scully's eyes filled with tears again as she raised her own hand to touch the cross at her neck. It took her two tries to get the words out, and then they were just above a whisper. "It came in the mail, Mom." Scully walked out the door without looking back. ************************ - end - ************************ Did it work for you? Feedback makes my day, so I'd love to know: Forte1354@aol.com or Bjm1352@aol.com. Thank you! Many, *many* thanks to Musea, for both beta and other types of support. You ladies are the best there is.