EPISODE 1: Lux et Veritas Chapter 1: Saints and Sinners Introduction: In Amor Fati, CSM had surgery. What if that surgery failed? ******************************************** Date: 05-10-00, 02:02:19 GMT RP: CSM Subject: {RP} La Tierra, Las Plantas From: SummerSnows The Cigarette Smoking Man pulled out his phone and dialed a number. Agent Dana Scully's cell phone rang. ******************************************** Date: 05-13-00, 15:36:46 GMT RP: Dana Scully Subject: Leaving People Hanging From: Brandi ~the minx~ And as for answering CSM's cell phone... here ya go: ----"Dana Scully."--- ******************************************** Date: 05-14-00, 17:21:39 GMT RP: CSM Subject: Estrellas From: SummerSnows Finally, after what seemed like days, the phone stopped ringing and was answered. CSM spoke: "Agent Scully. How are you? Now don't tell CSM that I'm giving away his evil plans here, okay? You know what happens to people who do things like that. Remember Diana Fowley? *gulp* But I think you might want to know what he's up to. The Greys, it seemed to him, had a cure for CSM's illness which involved CSM's loss of mind reading skills. However, CSM not only wants to be cured, he also wants to keep the telepathy. In order to save the world from alien colonization, CSM feels he needs power over the Greys. What's a Black-Lunged SOB to do? ******************************************** Date: 06-02-00, 04:01:11 GMT RP: Scully/CSM Subject: {RP} Scully / CSM Phone Call From: SummerSnows We did this rp in e-mail. Scully - played by Brandi CSM - played by SummerSnows -0-0-0-0-0- < voice-over > Previously, in a RPG < / voice-over > >Finally, after what seemed like days, the phone stopped ringing and was >answered. CSM spoke: "Agent Scully. How are you? >Now don't tell CSM that I'm giving away his evil plans here, okay? You >know what happens to people who do things like that. Remember Diana >Fowley? *gulp* > > But I think you might want to know what he's up to. The Greys, it seemed > to him, had a cure for CSM's illness which involved CSM's loss of mind > reading skills. However, CSM not only wants to be cured, he also wants > to keep the telepathy. In order to save the world from alien colonization, > CSM feels he needs power over the Greys. What's a Black-Lunged SoaB > to do? -0-0-0-0-0- Scully's skin crawled at the sound of his voice. "Let's cut to the chase, Smoking Man, what exactly do you want from me? I won't make a deal with the devil." Scully's mind raced. "What could he want?" she thought, "and what will Mulder think of this?" "So you think I'm the devil, Miss Scully?" Scully shifted her weight uneasily from one foot to the other. She inhaled deeply before continuing. "One embodiment of him, yes," she said, and smiled a sardonic smile she hoped CSM wouldn't interpret as flirtation. He inhaled on the Morley. "I need your expertise. I can offer you information in exchange for your professional assistance. Business is business, after all." He took another puff on the Morley, threw it on the ground, and squashed it under his shiny black shoe. "I need to know your intentions," she continued. "Why me? I know the sort of medical expertise you have at your disposal... why do you require my services? Why offer me any information at all?" "I may be dying, Dana," he said in a calm voice, a voice that would be used to announce nothing more dire than a sore throat. "The doctor that performed the surgery, er, tried to pursue a career elsewhere. The alien technology that can cure me has, to be honest, unsatisfactory side effects." He took a drag on the Morley, exhaled. "You are the only person with both medical knowledge and also knowledge of the particulars of the situation." He put out the cigarette. "Let me put it this way: If I go to the clinic down the road, tell them that I have a headache, and that I think the headache is a result of a procedure I had several months ago to exchange genetic material with a man who may or may not be my son, well, I'll get brain surgery all right. Not exactly the kind I'm after, though." Her mind darted from one scenario to the other... "hang up, hang up Dana" she kept telling herself... but there was something about this man that prevented such an irrational response. Despite the chaotic maelstrom of his life, to Scully CSM exuded quite composure. He almost seemed to demand the same from her. "As far as offering you information, well, I'm a fair man, Miss Scully." "My God, he can trust no one," she thought. "He must be so alienated..." Scully felt the dangerous trappings of empathy creeping in. She blinked it away. These sorts of feelings didn't sit well with her... her skin was too thick for some emotions, especially ones with the propensity for dangerous repercussions. She pitied him like one pities a bear at the zoo: You might wish for him freedom, but you wouldn't dare open the door. "Indeed," she answered, a tad too sarcastic than she intended. "I believe your gage of fairness is rather clear cut. Follow the rules and fair well. Don't follow them and become victim of your own negligence. Either result is fair in its own right." Against all reason, Agent Scully remained on the line. "I would have to be assured, of course, of my safety, Smoking Man. These are dangerous times, and arrangements such as these are to be handled delicately. "People have a habit of dying around you, Smoking Man; cohorts and enemies alike. I don't like the thought of befalling that sort of fate." The heavy air acquired a light and cooling breeze. CSM said, "They only die when they make promises they can't keep. I trust your word is good?" Scully absently laced her thumb through the fingers on her right hand, keeping her train of thought in a determined forward path. "I keep those promises I deem worth keeping. Bear in mind, however, that I make no careless promises." She exhaled roughly and hoped CSM didn't notice the shudder of breath. She twitched eagerly, wanting to end this now, wanting very badly to put this exchange behind her and move on. But was she plodding along in an infinite concentric groove, forever stuck in a mindless continuum of near misses and close calls? Was she doomed to spend the rest of her life getting ever so close but not quite achieving that which had become her life? CSM, this impressive, powerful and dangerous man could hold the answers, she thought. She had to stop herself, but the intrigue ignited by this sort of thinking would not dissipate so easily. After all, there was always that question resonating in the back of her mind... "what am I passing up?" Above all, she is a scientist, with an inquisitive mind, but she couldn't stifle the little voice in her head... reminding her what happens when you play with fire. "Proceed with caution, Dana," she thought in resolve. She rubbed the back of her neck quickly with her hand, giving her a split second to think about her next move. "Where do we meet?" she said, shocked at what had escaped her lips. CSM smiled. Scully, scientific, pragmatic, keeping an open mind. "I believe you'll be going to Florida, soon, correct?" [he said] The breeze became windy. "Let's see. There's a microbrewery on Front Street - wonderful place." The connection got interrupted by static. He continued: "You can order a 'Sampler,' which consists of sixteen four-ounce glasses of their different beers." The static got louder. "Miss Scully?" And louder. "Are you there?" The phone connection went dead. [Scully said:] "Hello, Hello??!! Can you hear me?" The line crackled and died. "So that's that," she said to herself, and carefully began thinking of her next move. ******************************************** Date: 06-25-00, 05:14:02 GMT RP: Dana Scully Subject: {RP} (Scully) Beginning the Journey From: Brandi ~the minx~ Dana Scully sits at the computer in her apartment, staring blankly at the blinking monitor. She reviews the text, focusing on the last paragraph: ...Recently, I along with A.D. Skinner and three of Agent Mulder's informants traveled to Maryland in an attempt to reunite with Agent Mulder. The situation, however, did not go as planned. Apparently the safety of Agent Mulder's meeting place was not as reliable as he had anticipated, causing him to retreat when his security was threatened. As of now, it is unclear when I will meet with Agent Mulder, but I feel confident that he will contact me when he deems the situation necessary. I have utmost confidence in the choices he made in Baltimore, and my official report will reflect that. I will be leaving for Florida tomorrow, resuming investigation on our previous case until Agent Mulder joins me there. She failed to mention she would be going a day earlier than planned. Her meeting with Smoking Man was conveniently left out of her notes, and would most definitely be absent from the official report. She saved the file and clicked off the monitor. For a moment she felt ill, uncomfortable in her own skin. The apartment was too quiet. It was the realization of what she was about to do that sat cold on the back of her neck. A woman of science, Scully never takes risks unless she is reasonably sure of the outcome. There was no way of knowing what would come of the next few days; which was thrilling in some small way, yet not enough to transcend her uncertainty. "That will have to do," she said, thinking of her misleading report with unease. She felt as though she could use a bath. Walking into her bedroom, she continued the work she had begun in the first place by picking up her overnight bag and placing it on the chest at the foot of her bed. She picked a blouse from her closet and examined it closely. White Egyptian broadcloth, wing tip sleeves and tailored side seams. "Cool enough for Florida," she thought, "but not too buttoned down." Given the seriousness of her meeting, she didn't want to choose something too casual. She made more careful choices from her closet, a few more from her bureau, and folded and packed the rest of her things, double-wrapping two pairs of shoes for inclusion in the bag. A cornflower blue T-shirt and khaki slacks lie unfolded and arranged in wardrobe fashion on the bed, reserved for the flight. Her thoughts turned to Mulder, the person to whom she is closest in this world. "How can I do this?" she asked herself. She sighed and sat down on the side of the bed, her head in her hands. A hundred things raced through her mind, a hundred different scenarios. Overall she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. "This is wrong," she said, a little despairingly. "This is so, so wrong." She closed her eyes and felt like crying but blinked it away. Looking up, she began to rationalize the situation. "This could actually help us," she began, thinking to herself as if she were talking to Mulder. "The information I obtain from this meeting could bring us closer to the truth, to what we've fought for. This could be the one." But she knew she was eluding herself. She could only hope Mulder could forgive her someday. With that, she changed her clothes, fastened her overnight bag and shut the apartment door behind her. ******************************************** Date: 06-29-00, 04:20:53 GMT RP: CSM Subject: {RP} From: SummerSnows Front Street Brewery & Grill was meant for a younger crowd and the younger crowd seemed to have discovered this and was present in droves, even now, in mid-afternoon. The Cigarette Smoking Man would have preferred Chopin to this modern music. At least it was not loud enough to be offensive. It's not that he felt left out, that's not what bothered him, even though these thirty-somethings were glancing at him, with that questioning don't-you-know-the-shuffleboard-is-over-there look on their face. But the couple at the next table, especially the guy, who had spiked blond hair, looked over at him every once in a while, as though to underscore the fact that CGB Spender was old and by himself. Not sure if Scully approved of alcohol at this time of day, he ordered club soda. He sat at a second-floor table by the window, with a beautiful view of the Bridge of Lyons and the intracoastal, its light chop sparkling in the Florida sunshine. Under the table by his feet sat a paper shopping bag from a local artist's clothing store. The handmade and colorful sarong inside hid a silver box. On the sidewalk below strolled happy sunburnt tourists in Hawaiian shirts, cameras hung around their necks like millstones. Young ones, old ones, paired off, as though the world were an even number that if divided would leave CSM as the remainder. He had left orders with the hostess that he was waiting for someone. Now he glanced over as she stepped off the elevator, followed by yet another insignificant person, another customer that wasn't whom he was waiting for. At the bar, young couples sipped frozen margaritas and looked at each other in ways that would aggravate even the most tolerant noromo. It certainly aggravated CSM. It wasn't that he missed Teena herself; he was over that, to be sure. It was more a sense of nostalgia, a sense that others had something he didn't, a longing for what he would probably never have again. It was lonely at the top, he thought, as he tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. And when that top was the top of a world that you were trying to save while it ungratefully called you evil, it was even lonelier. Here came the hostess again, this time with the proper person. CSM tried to shake off these thoughts, chiding himself for having gone off on a daydream like a lonely old geezer. Trying to compose himself quickly, he added a small smile to his appearance as he stood and motioned for Scully to sit. ******************************************** Date: 06-29-00, 13:27:11 GMT RP: Dana Scully Subject: Re: {RP} CSM & Scully From: Brandi ~the minx~ Scully pulled up to the Front Street Brewery & Grill with time to spare. Checking her watch, she rested her head on the steering wheel and relished the last few moments of air conditioning. In a sense, she was systematically checking her defenses. Dana Scully was not one to be caught off guard, and for this rendezvous she was prepared for anything. Taking a breath, she stepped out of her rental car into a heat only Florida could boast. The force of it was immediately oppressive, and if there had been any wind at all she would have felt as though she were standing in the path of a nuclear blast wave. She might be doing that already. As terrible as the heat, this little corner of Florida was no doubt charming. Shop canopies hung nimbly over a sidewalk teeming with people. In the distance, a glittering thread of the intracoastal tempted passersby to drop their bags in favor of its cool blue comfort. Around the brewery people clung to each other like lice, despite the heat. Pixie-faced children kicked stones down the sidewalk, their tinny laughter swallowed up quickly by the thick air. A fat guy in white Bermuda shorts and black socks ran desperately after the hyperactive kids, his face red from exertion. He clamored after the little sprites, weaving in and out of couples seemingly lost in each other. Everyone had the doe-eyed optimist persona nailed perfectly. "Big pasty smiles for everyone," Scully thought. The observation made her smile as well, in spite of herself. The door of the brewery had one of those annoying bells attached, alerting everyone inside that someone new was joining the happy throng. Inside it was crowded, despite the early hour; mostly by Gen-x'ers sipping beer, pontificating about politics and religion, playing footsie with their pink-haired mates. The greeter approached her immediately. "Excuse me, are you Dana Scully?" "Yes I am, I'm meeting someone he...," she began, only to be interrupted by the perky employee. "Yes of course Ms. Scully, he's waiting for you upstairs." With that, the blond attendant motioned toward a staircase illuminated by wall lamps, casting a dusky glow on the shadowy passage. Noticing Scully's dubious expression, the attendant added, "There's an elevator, if you'd rather not take the stairs." Nodding slightly, Scully made her way to the elevator, her heels resounding a little too loudly on the hardwood floor. Upstairs housed more of the same, only a more beautiful view. The tables were littered with young drinkers, sporting more piercings than years. All accept one, that is. CSM sat gazing out the window at his view of the Bridge of Lyons, a vaguely whimsical look playing along the line of his face. He was dressed accordingly, yet stylishly... languidly dragging off his Morley. The hostess spotted her and led her to the table. As she advanced in slow, determined steps, a random thought occurred to her... one of those funny twilight moments experienced just before falling asleep. "I'm marching to an execution," she thought, and took a deep breath, keeping her composure in check. He stood to meet her, signaling the hostess to leave their company. For a split second they both just stood there, unsure of what to do next, as awkward as dance partners at a junior high prom. Scully broke the uncomfortable moment by accepting his invitation to sit. In short, it was surreal. To the other patrons they were simply a man and a woman, meeting for lunch, it would seem; hardly worth a second glance. If this were only the case, things might have been simpler. Sitting there in front of him, knowing what he is and he knowing her more so than he should, she knew with finality that there was no turning back. Not now. "This is my choice," she silently affirmed, but that scared her more than the alternative. ******************************************** Date: 07-02-00, 00:02:28 GMT RP: CSM Subject: {RP} Short and Sweet From: SummerSnows The Cigarette Smoking Man waited for Scully to sit, then he sat back down. "Good afternoon, Dana," he said, the whimsical half-smile still on his face. "It's good to see you again." He looked over and saw that the kid with the spiked blond hair had a different expression on his face now. Trying to figure out why a beautiful young woman would sit at the same table with the dinosaur. CSM turned back to Scully as he pressed his cigarette into the ashtray. "Lovely day, don't you think? Though perhaps a bit warm." The waitress emptied the ashtray and took their order. "There is a bag under the table," he said. No wacky smile, all business now. Although the bar noise was enough to cover anything they said, CSM lowered his voice anyway. "Inside the silver box is an example of alien technology. The proof you and your partner have been looking for, for so long, that the aliens exist. Though it is but an aspirin to them, it acts like a general cure-all in the human body. Kind of like the tonics of the 1800's used to promise. You swallow it, just like an aspirin, and whatever's wrong at the time goes away." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, looking into Scully's large, wet, blue eyes. It seemed to him her eyes were deeper than the deepest ocean, pulling on him like a rip-tide. He looked away. Must have been a moment of sentimentality brought on by his earlier bout with nostalgia. Yeah, that's all. Or maybe it was the cerebral inflammation. Yes, that's it, that explains it. He caught his breath. "Where was I? Ah, yes. It can be used, I think, to cure what ails me, but, and I may have told you this the other day, it comes with a price. The powers that I hoped to acquire with last fall's surgery would be lost. And without those powers, I can't meet my goals. He took a look around the bar, not letting his eyes rest on anything in particular. It looked hot outside. Tourists at the bar blew kisses at each other, emitting pheromones that swirled through the air-conditioned atmosphere like red food coloring in a glass of water. He felt lonelier surrounded by these people than he ever had when he was actually, physically alone. CSM picked up the bag on the floor and placed it on the table in front of Scully. "In exchange for your professional help." He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in that trademark CSM way. "What do you say, doc?" ******************************************** Date: 07-03-00, 22:11:18 GMT RP: Dana Scully Subject: Re: {RP} Short and Sweet From: Brandi ~the minx~ Scully's phone chirped in her jacket pocket, begging to be answered. "Oh God, not now," she thought. The last thing she needed was a call from Mulder or anyone else. Lord knows it took her enough nerve just to get here; she didn't need another excuse to leave. She ignored it and settled into the seat across from CSM. He looked very pleased to see her. > "Good afternoon, Dana," he said, the whimsical half-smile still on > his face. "It's good to see you again." "Good afternoon," she said, carefully sidestepping the usual "good to see you too" return. Not that she was or she wasn't happy to see him, mind you; but neutrality is always safest at such an early stage. Of course it was also a means of self-protection--remaining emotionally detached would save her some guilt in the long run. "Pardon my tardiness," she said, her cheeks flushing a bit in embarrassment. "It took some doing to get here." > "Lovely day, don't you think? Though perhaps a bit warm." "Insufferable," she said flatly, brushing back a loose strand of hair and returning her hand to her lap. If the searing heat had ruffled her appearance any, she wouldn't have known, and she now wished she'd checked herself in the downstairs mirror when she had the opportunity. "The beauty is some compensation for the heat," she continued, smiling quickly. She acknowledged the validity of her remark with a glance out the window. > The waitress emptied the ashtray and took their order. "Do you have watercress? If so I'd like that in a salad, please. A small one. Red wine vinegar and olive oil on the side. The waitress nodded, writing quickly on her little note pad. "I'll have that and ice water with generous lemon." Scully thanked her, and the waitress smiled prettily and disappeared into the back. > "There is a bag under the table," he said. No wacky smile, all business > now. Although the bar noise was enough to cover anything they said, > CSM lowered his voice anyway. "Inside the silver box is an example of > alien technology. The proof you and your partner have been looking for, > for so long, that the aliens exist. Though it is but an aspirin to them, it > acts like a general cure-all in the human body. Kind of like the tonics of > the 1800's used to promise. You swallow it, just like an aspirin, and > whatever's wrong at the time goes away." The second floor was more raucous than the first. Perhaps it was a delicate mixture of spirits and the lovely view cajoling the assemblage, or perhaps they were mad from the heat. Lovely place though, very quaint. His proposition was thrilling, and so eloquently delivered. Alien snake oil... the novelty of such was almost preposterous for her to consider... but it may very well be a reality. To think this tiny miracle rested only inches from her feet was enough to ignite the sort of curiosity and vigor that has felled many a noble person. It was all there for her, yet what price she would pay was not known--yet. No matter, the risk was already taken. Now it is her game to play as she wishes. Briefly she tilted her head downward, taking note of the package resting under the table. Sure enough, there it was, seemingly the answer to everything. All she and Mulder had worked for, nested in a gift bag within arms reach. Returning to the appropriate posture, she began. "I cannot validate your claim, not here. I'm sure you understand that. But for now I will assume that what you say is true. You must know I have to ask you where you obtained this," she said, in an almost intimate whisper. Leaning forward slightly, she continued. "There are so many questions, I--I don't know where to start... this is all, so unbelievable." She was being painfully honest now, fully betraying her defenses. For the first time she allowed herself to experience the full power of the situation, of what lay at her feet... of who sat across from her. She looked at him almost expectantly now, her fear dissipating with every breath. > He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, looking into Scully's > large, wet, blue eyes. It seemed to him her eyes were deeper than the > deepest ocean, pulling on him like a rip-tide. He looked away. She didn't avert her eyes right away, despite his noticeable discomfort. Scully didn't stare nor did she want to, but she did look at him intently. She was, in effect, seeing this man--this "monster"--as some have dubbed him, for the first time. > He caught his breath. "Where was I? Ah, yes. It can be used, I think, to > cure what ails me, but, and I may have told you this the other day, it > comes with a price. The powers that I hoped to acquire with last > fall's surgery would be lost. And without those powers, I can't meet my > goals. "Pray tell, what goals are these that you are willing to risk your life to realize? If this technology is what you say it is, then I would examine the importance of those goals in the broad scheme of things." She stopped short, hoping she hadn't pushed too far with the questioning. He is still a dangerous man, no matter what humanity she saw in him now. Was she really in a position to give him advice? "Dammit Dana," she thought, "don't blow it." "Remember why you're here in the first place." > CSM picked up the bag on the floor and placed it on the table in front of > Scully. "In exchange for your professional help." He tilted his head and > raised his eyebrows in that trademark CSM way. "What do you say, > doc?" Scully's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. She slid her hand across the table and lightly touched the corner of the bag, feeling the crease of it with her fingers. Looking up, she met Smoking Man's gaze with ease, completely convinced that what she was doing was the right thing. "I say let's get started." ******************************************** Date: 07-07-00, 03:27:31 GMT RP: CSM Subject: {RP} CSM 07-06-00 From: SummerSnows > "Pray tell, what goals are these that you are willing to risk your life to > realize? If this technology is what you say it is, then I would examine the > importance of those goals in the broad scheme of things." > > She stopped short, hoping she hadn't pushed too far with the questioning. > He is still a dangerous man, no matter what humanity she saw in him > now. Was she really in a position to give him advice? "Dammit Dana," > she thought, "don't blow it." "Remember why you're here in the first > place." The Cigarette Smoking Man reached in his jacket for his pack of Morley's. "You being a scientist, I can see you would have many questions." He deliberately blew the cigarette smoke away from Scully - and in the direction of the blond kid. "First, my life means nothing." He shrugged. "I am old. Who would miss me?" He flicked the ashes in the ashtray. "Second, my goals. You've heard of the Greys? They're the little green men Mulder has been looking for. They exist, Miss Scully. In fact, they've already been to earth; colonization may be closer than we realize." He continued: "But I digress. My 'goal' as you call it is and has always been to save humanity. The vaccinations didn't work. The hybridization attempts were a failure" He ignored the increasing headache. "If I can keep this genetic material and its telepathy, I can infiltrate their ranks without their being able to infect me. Then, I will be able to read their minds, and learn their war plans." He looked down at the silverware. It was undecorated, standard restaurant stuff, easy to clean. "At least it removes the element of surprise from their advantage," he said. "It's not much, but right now it's all I can do." The waitress came with their order. When she was gone, he put out his cigarette and looked back at Scully. "The little blue ball was given to me by the commander of an extraterrestrial spaceship." >> CSM picked up the bag on the floor and placed it on the table in front >> of Scully. "In exchange for your professional help." He tilted his head >> and raised his eyebrows in that trademark CSM way. "What do you >> say,doc?" > > Scully's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. She slid her hand > across the table and lightly touched the corner of the bag, feeling the > crease of it with her fingers. Looking up, she met Smoking Man's gaze > with ease, completely convinced that what she was doing was the right > thing. "I say let's get started." He nodded. He could have put his hand on the bag too, could have made a gesture of you'll-get-yours-when-I-get-mine. But he'd seen the honesty in her eyes and decided he would trust her. He took a last sip of his soda, and placed the napkin on the table. "DOJ keeps a small facility in the back of Flagler College. It's not much, but it should have what you need. If you're not busy now, we can take my car." ******************************************** Date: 07-11-00, 03:55:02 GMT RP: Dana Scully Subject: Re: {RP} CSM 07-06-00 From: Brandi ~the minx~ > The Cigarette Smoking Man reached in his jacket for his pack of Morley's. > "You being a scientist, I can see you would have many questions." He > deliberately blew the cigarette smoke away from Scully - and in the > direction of the blond kid. "First, my life means nothing." He shrugged. > "I am old. Who would miss me?" He flicked the ashes in the ashtray. > > "Second, my goals. You've heard of the Greys? They're the little green > men Mulder has been looking for. They exist, Miss Scully. In fact, they've > already been to earth; colonization may be closer than we realize." Scully's lips parted ever so slightly in intrigue, watching this man deliver his repose. She slipped back into her skin with a shiver, realizing she wasn't just watching from the outside anymore, or through Mulder as the interpreter. It felt safer, suddenly, just to gaze out the window, but the scientist in her wanted to know more. Not about the Greys or colonization, not just yet; Front Street Brewery wasn't the proper place to discuss the fate of the human race. She wanted to know everything, but in due time. Scully believed now more than ever that this man could give her the answers, and had every intention of doing so. > He continued: "But I digress. My 'goal' as you call it is and has > always been to save humanity. The vaccinations didn't work. The > hybridization attempts were a failure." He ignored the increasing > headache. "If I can keep this genetic material and its telepathy, I can > infiltrate their ranks without their being able to infect me. Then, I will be > able to read their minds, and learn their war plans." He looked down at > the silverware. It was undecorated, standard restaurant stuff, easy to > clean. "At least it removes the element of surprise from their advantage," > he said. "It's not much, but right now it's all I can do. CSM's altruistic offering was hard for Scully to swallow. "'My goal has been to save humanity?'" Puh-lease. "Still, he has answers. and I want them more than anything," she thought. > The waitress came with their order. When she was gone, he put out his > cigarette and looked back at Scully. Scully accepted her salad with a smile, and greedily wrapped her fingers around the chilled salad bowl. Any other time this meal would have been a delight. the watercress was a lovely color for the season, and bits of it threatened to spill over the edge of the novel fish-shaped bowl. But there were other things on her mind today. Lacing her fingers in front of her, she turned her attention back to Smoking Man as he continued. > "The little blue ball was given to me by the commander of an > extraterrestrial spaceship." >>> CSM picked up the bag on the floor and placed it on the table in front >>> of Scully. "In exchange for your professional help." He tilted his head >>> and raised his eyebrows in that trademark CSM way. "What do you >>> say,doc?" > >>Scully's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. She slid her hand >>across the table and lightly touched the corner of the bag, feeling the >>crease of it with her fingers. Looking up, she met Smoking Man's gaze >>with ease, completely convinced that what she was doing was the right >>thing. "I say let's get started." > > He nodded. He could have put his hand on the bag too, could have made > a gesture of you'll-get-yours-when-I-get-mine. But he'd seen the honesty > in her eyes and decided he would trust her. > > He took a last sip of his soda, and placed the napkin on the table. "DOJ > keeps a small facility in the back of Flagler College. It's not much, but it > should have what you need. If you're not busy now, we can take my car." It didn't take her long to consider, being that she had no alternative. Go with this man, or lose the Truth. "Yes, I want to get started as soon as possible," she said, with a quick smile. Her salad lay untouched in front of her, but she didn't seem to mind. Leaving the brewery with CSM, Scully regretted having had only water--she had a feeling she was going to need something a bit stronger after this was said and done. ******************************************** Date: 07-17-00, 04:04:33 GMT RP: Dana Scully Subject: {RP} Moment of Untruth From: Brandi ~the minx~ Front Street is a carnival of heat and insanity. The walk is crowded with more of the same--star-crossed lovers walking in sync, navigating their way through weary tourists who've had a bit too much sun for one day. The air shimmers with the gaseous breath of heat, hovering over the hot mantel pavement like the Angel of Death. In this stew of sweat and over-pricing, Scully stands rather small and oddly clothed, compared to everyone else. She is hot and miserable, having dressed too warmly and foregoing her lunch. While CSM tends the bill, she steals a quiet moment to consider her next course of action. Noticing an extra shadow on the sidewalk, Scully turned to find CSM standing behind her. "Hi," she said. "Ready to go?" ******************************************** Date: 08-04-00, 00:09:49 GMT RP: Scully / CSM Subject: {RP} Tropical Freeze Part 1 From: SummerSnows Tropical Freeze Part 1 Scully - played by Brandi CSM - played by SummerSnows -0-0-0-0-0- The Cigarette Smoking Man watched Scully parade out the door into the hellish Florida weather, knowing who was paying the tab. Amused, he grinned, lit a Morley, and handed the check to the cashier by the front door. He watched tourists bump into Scully, oblivious in their sun-glazed euphoria. Her titian hair, looking softer now as it grew out, blew lightly in the steamy breeze. He reached into his pocket for his wallet. Then, turning back to the cashier quickly, CSM grabbed his cell phone out of her hand with some vigor. He squinted at her, disbelieving. "What are you doing?" These headaches, this eternal soul-crunching pain, it was infernal, distracting. Never, when he was healthy, could someone have picked his pocket like that. He observed the cashier. Her lipstick was as black as her tee-shirt, and her piercings were all made of silvery metal. She smiled at him, apparently pleased with her little trick. He put away his corporate credit card and reached for cash instead. . To Be Continued... ******************************************** Date: 08-04-00, 03:04:50 GMT RP: Scully / CSM Subject: {RP} Tropical Freeze Part 2 From: SummerSnows Part 2 Scully - played by Brandi CSM - played by SummerSnows -0-0-0-0-0- As The Cigarette Smoking Man counted his change, he watched a man and a woman brush past Scully and enter the front door. The man was short, overweight, and dressed in biker attire, what some call "colors." The woman wore carefully applied makeup, and gave an impression of a corporate career. He put his wallet back, and grabbed a handful of peppermints before stepping out into that bright miserable heat. He unwrapped a mint, put it in his mouth, and noticed in passing that exiting the restaurant was like entering a steam room. > Noticing an extra shadow on the sidewalk, Scully turned to find CSM > standing behind her. "Hi," she said. "Ready to go?" He handed Scully one of the mints. "Suck it, don't bite it. It'll last longer that way." Scully laughed before she had time to think. "Thanks, I'll have to remember that," she said with a smile. For the first time today the heat wasn't so miserable. She unwrapped the heavenly confection and popped it into her mouth. He opened the car door for her, and in an exaggerated motion of chivalry pointed to the seat with his hand and grinned. She accepted with what would have been another smile, had she stopped smiling in the first place. Settling into the smothering heat of the car, she buckled up and gingerly arranged the gift bag on her lap. . To Be Continued... ******************************************** Date: 08-05-00, 04:07:39 GMT RP: Scully / CSM Subject: Tropical Freeze Part 3 From: SummerSnows Part 3 Scully - played by Brandi CSM - played by SummerSnows -0-0-0-0-0- Flagler College was made up of hundred-year-old buildings in the middle of a residential neighborhood. CSM parallel parked next to a palm tree as an ice cream truck with the words "Tropical Freeze" passed by. Scully made her way up the tree-lined path behind CSM, the little bag dangling from her hand. She was careful not to jostle the precious contents, so her steps were measured and precise. CSM slid his card in a lock, and then another, and so on until he got to the room he wanted. Inside was about the same size as Mulder and Scully's office, and split in half the same way with a lab on one side of a glass partition. In the lab were all kinds of lab-type thingys CSM couldn't identify. He tried to rub the headache out of his forehead. "You should have everything you need," he said, then stepped back to watch. Scully noticed CSM rubbing his head now and before in the restaurant. Earlier, she had attributed it to the stress of the situation, but now she wasn't so sure. "Are you ok?" she asked, genuinely concerned. "Funny you should ask," he answered lightly. Then he added, "No, no, I'm fine. Go ahead, I know you're eager to start." Without a thought, she placed her hand softly on his arm. Looking up at him, she sensed he was in pain. "Perhaps you need to rest." "Well, maybe I'll just sit here for a moment. Here, you might need this," he said, and handed her an ID card similar to his. Then he sat in the chair over there, and watched Scully at work. Placing the little bag on a nearby table, she observed the rest of the room. "Ok," Scully began. "Let's see what we have here." Cool and professional, Scully strolled around the room examining beakers, Bunsen burners and rubber tubing very carefully for cracks and other imperfections. The lab was well ventilated with a high ceiling and sufficient space. There was a blast shield on a rolling table in the corner. She would need that, no doubt. The lighting was good and the microscopes seemed adequate, although improperly stored. She looked around for an electron microscope but didn't see one. A closed door was to her right, most likely the chem. closet. It was locked, but featured a place for an ID card, like all the other doors they'd passed through. "No problem there," she thought. She made her way around the large metal tables, gathering in her arms what she could without breaking anything. At the last table, she put down her parcel and stopped to examine a scale that had been improperly calibrated. "You are right about one thing you know," she said, casually continuing her work, "..it does last longer if you suck it." With that, she looked up and stuck her tongue out, revealing a near-dissolved disk of peppermint. She couldn't help but grin. CSM laughed out loud. Scully had a sense of humor? Who knew? All his sources had described her as a whining nag who never laughed (okay, only one source - the head of the NRMTPB over at atxf ;) ). He pulled out a few more mints and said, "It doesn't have to end there, you know; there's more candy here in my pocket." Scully brightened. "I just might have to take you up on that," she said with a wink. Turning her attention to the matter at hand, she suddenly felt as if she had been watching the two of them from the outside. Her usual stoic demeanor had softened over this day's events, it was evident now. The very air seemed lighter and more forgiving, and she had not thought of Mulder. She chose a vacant work area and carefully arranged the beakers and assorted paraphernalia. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out two pair of latex gloves, tossing one pair to CSM and placing the other on the table in front of her. "So," he said, standing up and trying to keep a deadpan expression. "You want me to wear protection." [What? The elusive Smoking Man cracking jokes? What a pleasant surprise...] Matching his deadpan expression as best she could without giggling, Scully cocked an eyebrow and glanced his way. "Always," she said with a knowing smile. "Now get over here and help me move this thing, will ya?" He stood up, smiled, and bowed deeply. "Your wish is my command." . To Be Continued... ******************************************** Date: 08-05-00, 16:50:24 GMT RP: Scully / CSM Subject: Tropical Freeze Part 4 From: SummerSnows Part 4 Scully - played by Brandi CSM - played by SummerSnows -0-0-0-0-0- With his help, she rolled the blast shield near the work area and checked it thoroughly. It seemed in working order; no cracks or visible scratches. The seals around the arm sleeves seemed secure. She wished to God she had a robotic arm for this, but if wishes were horses... As his headache worsened, as the screeching feedback noise began, he tried to act as if nothing were wrong. Scully seemed happy, and so excited at the chance to dissect alien technology. He didn't want to ruin her fun. Moving from behind the blast shield, she carefully reached into the top of the gift bag and retrieved the little package, cradled snugly in the brightly colored sarong. "It's lovely," she remarked, feeling the silk of it beneath her fingers. "If what's inside is half as nice as the wrapping, I'm in for a treat." He pulled on the lapels of his Armani jacket and said, "What's inside is even nicer than the wrapping." "One can only hope you're right," she said. Carefully she moved the sarong within the confines of the blast shield, locking the hatch upon closing with one fluid motion. Slipping her gloved hands into the protective sleeves, she began to unwrap the tantalizing package very slowly, layer by layer. She spoke as she continued: "I know this looks a little extreme, these measures I'm taking... but you of all people are aware of the seriousness of what we're dealing with here. If something in my mishandling were to contaminate this specimen, I could never forgive myself. I learned very early on that it is better to avert mistakes and their repercussions before they happen." She was nearing the epicenter of the package now, her hands amazingly nimble in the bulky sleeves of the shield. She turned her head to CSM, her safety goggles slipping down her nose a bit. "There is a recording device in the top drawer of that desk. I found it earlier along with some copper probes. Grab them both for me, if you will. Tape over whatever is on the tape, I don't think they'll mind." She heard a satisfying click as CSM complied with her request. "Agent Dana Scully with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, badge number 2317616, investigating an object of unknown origin." [Ok, so she knew where it was from, but "evidence of alien existence that could quite possibly turn the science world on its ear" doesn't sound too credible on tape]. She continued with her dictation as CSM stood closely behind her. The tape recorder's mechanical hum was the only sound in the room. "The object seems to be encased in a box, which I will now open." Her nerves were a wreck and if the moment wasn't tense enough, her nose began to itch. [Damn! Of all the times...] She looked over her shoulder at CSM and lowered her voice below the tape recorder. "Would you scratch my nose for me," she whispered, a little embarrassed to be making such a silly request. For a moment he thought that it was a strange favor for Scully to ask, then he thought he really couldn't think at all; the pain worsened as though his head were inside some kind of Spanish Inquisition device. He tried not to squint from the throbbing, tried to concentrate on removing the gloves because they would not have the right texture for relieving an itch. I am not lightheaded, he told himself, focusing his concentration on the tiny nose on the beautiful face. A flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said, smiling shyly. "I've kind of got my hands in something." She smiled at the obviousness of the statement. CSM's wrist seemed adorned with an expensive cologne, filling her nose with the aromatic earthiness of sandalwood and something else; an exotic spice-like fragrance she couldn't quite discern. It suited him, she thought, and found herself wondering if he wore it every day. "Thank you," she said, still a bit embarrassed but continuing with her work. Her hands trembled as she opened the little box, revealing an image so awe-inspiring it could be likened to witnessing a thousand sunsets at once. Snugly nested in the velvet lining of the box, a brilliant blue orb shimmered in the darkness of the little box, illuminating the room with an ethereal radiance. It seemed to track her movements, turning on its invisible axis as she approached it from every angle. Through a haze, CSM watched the ball follow Scully. It was mocking him, it was snobbishly telling him he had made a wrong decision in refusing its medicine, it was letting him know his very last chance was at hand. As Scully continued to study the ball, seemingly becoming more awestruck with every passing moment, he thought about what a good person she was, how he would have liked to be remembered with the saintly reverence with which people thought of her. He would not give in to the ball. Scully could figure out its secrets, he thought, and use the technology to stop the enslavement of the earth. Even without doing human experiments Now while Scully wasn't looking, he took the luxury of rubbing his temples, only for a second, then quickly composed himself. "Turn off the tape," she stammered. "Turn it off now." Scully turned to CSM, half afraid, half enamoured, her skin glowing with the iridescent radiance of the little blue ball. "It can't be," she finally managed, looking at him very intently, expecting (and wanting) to be disproved. In her heart, though, she knew this was the real thing. "Do you know what this means?! This changes everything... this is the answer to everything Mulder and I have searched for... this... this is the end of the road," she said finally. Her mind flashed to the last 7 years. She and Mulder had searched everywhere, been everywhere, 90% of the time thinking he was crazy but never hesitating to follow him to the ends of the earth, if it were only to stand in the middle of a crop circle, feeling the shafts of wheat in relation to the wind. Suddenly she was overwhelmed, but managed to retain her composure. "You're a scientist first, Dana," she kept thinking, "You can marvel later." Continuing, she gently picked up a copper probe and neared the little ball with careful precision. "If I can just feel the surface texture," she thought, "I can get an idea of what we're dealing with." Inching closer, the copper probe touched something without touching anything. An invisible shield surrounded the ball, preventing Scully from progressing with her investigation. Her probing had apparently triggered a protective force field of some type. Amazed, she approached it again, but as her probe made contact with the force field, the ionosphere around the ball began to sparkle, as if millions of tiny crystals composing the matrix of its being were suddenly fusing, reaffirming their defenses. It sparkled so brightly she was compelled to briefly look away. After a few seconds, the sparkling crystals fused into a searing blue flame which now hovered over the surface, surrounding all visible sides of the little blue ball. The once invisible force field was now a wall of blue fire. As Scully watched in utter amazement, the blue flame undulated along the surface of the orb and suddenly disappeared. The little blue ball returned to its natural state. Scully couldn't believe her eyes. She slipped out of the hot sleeves of the blast shield in a stupor of amazement. "Oh my God, what just happ--" she began, turning around. She stopped short. CSM was holding his head again, his face twisted in excruciating pain. "I'm all right," he said. But the room seemed to have spun, changed angles. The light seemed dimmer. CSM started to reach in his pocket for a Morley and watched the gloves that he'd still been holding fall to the floor, before everything went black. *~*~*~*~* Scully watched in horror as CSM's limp form folded and collapsed to the floor. Her clunky heels chattered loudly as she rushed to his side, coming to kneel over him on the sterile tile of the lab. "Can you hear me!?" she urgently asked, a hint of panic clinging to her words. Immediately, Scully became the cool-headed medical professional. Tenderly her fingers found his throat and pressed against his carotid artery. She whispered a silent prayer as she waited for the hopeful thump of his pulse under her fingertips. There--present, but thready. She leaned over his face, her auburn hair falling softly on his countenance like tendrils of fire licking him to consciousness. Scully carefully monitored his shuddery breath. His respiration was holding steady, but for how much longer she couldn't guess. Gingerly she lifted his head into her lap, cradling his neck with infinite care. His brow was damp with perspiration; his flesh clammy and cool, very pallid and putty-like in texture. It was evident CSM was going into shock, but from what, Scully couldn't fathom. She did in fact know one thing with all certainty--this episode was directly related to his headaches. Carefully she postured him in the Recovery position, immediately remembering the countless instances in which she was faced with this same task in medical school; only there were no watchful superiors now. Gently she coaxed him to wake up, brushing damp strands of hair away from his forehead. Her analytical mind began to hypothesize: "It could be a petit mal seizure," she thought, noting the absence of convulsion, "Or a cerebral hemorrhage." She dared to consider the worst possible scenario, no matter how disturbing. . To Be Continued... ******************************************** Date: 08-06-00, 21:10:55 GMT RP: Scully / CSM Subject: Tropical Freeze Part 5 From: SummerSnows Part 5 (Last part) Scully - played by Brandi CSM - played by SummerSnows -0-0-0-0-0- Behind her, the little blue ball began to glow from behind the blast shield... begging to be noticed. Shining on the innocent velvet it seemed to speak to her without doing so. The words CSM spoke in the brewery resonated in her memory: "...Though it is but an aspirin to them, it acts like a general cure-all in the human body... You swallow it, just like an aspirin, and whatever's wrong at the time goes away..." She knew what she had to do. Leaving CSM, she walked to the blast shield, opened the hatch and reached inside with her ungloved hand. No fear now... necessity hastens bravery in times such as these. The intoxicating blue orb did not protest her intrusion. Scully fought her girlish wonderment as she held the glowing ball in her hands. She struggled desperately not to be averted by its deceptive beauty. Hiding the tiny miracle in her jacket pocket, she walked back to where CSM lay crumpled on the floor. He appeared to be semi-conscious now, mumbling something indiscernible. With surprising strength, Scully propped his upper body against her own, supporting his dead weight. Reaching into her pocket she withdrew the shining blue ball. It seemed to illuminate the two of them with an other-worldly beauty... an iridescent, almost God-like presence playing along the lines of their bodies, absorbing ambient energy. Scully convinced CSM to support himself, if only briefly while she moved to the side of him. She put her knee under his weak form before he hit the floor again. Propping his head up, she offered him the shimmering orb, holding her breath in anticipation. -0-0-0-0-0- Nothing. Something. Light at the end of the tunnel? Still dark. Warm red hair, cool blue marble. He tried to move away from the blue, but icy cold slid down his throat. A vague anesthetized feeling, with a hint of contentment. A heavenly sensation of his head being cradled in an angel's lap. Heavenly? He opened his eyes. The angel above him did not wear white robes. She had red hair. She might be offended. He sat up quickly. He felt great, cleaned as though he'd taken a bath inside out. The headache was gone, the sounds were gone. He didn't have so much as a nicotine craving. "What happened?" =+=+=+=+= Scully sat in awe of what just transpired... of the science she had held in her hands... of the miracle that was now in CSM. Her mouth could scarcely form the words as she looked at him--a beaming vision of renewal. "My God," she whispered. Returning to herself, she stood up from her seat on the floor. "You collapsed," she began, very unsure of how to go about explaining the unexplainable. "You were critically ill, I--I had no way of knowing what..." Her eyes teared up as she struggled for the words, but there were none. "For reasons I may never understand, "it" spoke to me... suggested to me that it belonged in you... and I remembered what you said, about its use... and..." She despised the way she sounded now--irrational, incoherent, yet unbelievably she was telling the truth. She gave a slight nod, almost in defeat. "I was certain of only one thing after that," she said, moving closer to him as she spoke. "I was certain it could save your life. I was sure it was the right thing, but I don't know how." Her eyes glittered with emotion. What had transpired was too much for her to fathom, yet there was proof undeniable. She had held it in her hands. It stood in front of her now. Looking around the lab she suddenly wanted nothing more than to be rid of it all. Oddly she felt no remorse at the loss of her Truth. It was not all for nothing--it was all for something. The very fact that CSM lives and breathes, standing not two feet from her was suddenly all the "something" she needed. Closing her eyes she stood there for a moment, letting it all sink in; allowing the last notes of that beautiful chord to dwindle away into perfect nothingness. It was finished. She had her Truth and she held it close. "Come on," she said decisively. "Let's get out of here." ********************************************