Message-ID: Date: Thu, 8 Jan 1998 20:43:16 +0000 From: Heather Markham Subject: Aliquantum Salio - Chapters 1-3 "ALIQUANTUM SALIO" by Heather Markham CHAPTER ONE 1st April 1997 5.15 am NEW MEXICO 130 miles South East of Farmington, close to the Navajo Reservation. The two men poised over their camera equipment, stand and watch the strange, metallic triangular craft hover above the desert ridge. It drifts silently towards them. An eerie green light radiating and pulsing from beneath it. Suddenly, a piercing scream vibrates through their skulls, a sickening noise, so penetrating it knocks them from their feet. They writhe on the ground, hands tightly clamped around their ears, eyes screwed tightly shut against the brilliant light. The light intensifies, engulfs them and they are gone! * * * * Sam was dragged from his quiet resting place in the limbo land of between leap states and was slammed painfully into the body of his new host. He woke suddenly and apprehensively. There had been good leaps and there had been bad leaps. The time travelling quantum physicist felt that this was definitely a bad one. He felt as though he had been dragged through a hedge, backwards. He could tell that the person he'd leapt into had been asleep. He was lying down, rather uncomfortably. His head hurt, his neck was stiff and his back ached. He opened his eyes tentatively and blinked away the sting that the dim light brought to them, he rubbed at them with the palms of his hands. For all the sleep that the body he was occupying had had, he still felt exhausted. He looked down at his body, which was clad in jeans and a grey short sleeved tee-shirt. "Well," he sighed to himself," at least I'm a man this time". He sat up and swung his legs from the couch where this body's previous occupant had obviously fallen asleep the night before. He surveyed the apartment he was in. He wondered vaguely if it was his place or someone else's. The room was dimly lit by a rather old fashioned metal desk lamp which stood on top of a desk-style table next to a window. A computer stood on the same table, there were books and piles of papers scattered untidily around the base of the lamp. The curtains at the window were open but the blinds were down. There was a coffee table in front of the couch, this too was littered with papers. He gathered some together and scanned through them. They were all pretty meaningless to him. None of them gave him any clues as to why he was here or who he was. He stood up and tried to massage the painful kinks from his aching back. He looked around the room, it had an air of dinginess about it, not dirty or particularly untidy, just gloomy, dark wood doors and yellow, fading paint work. Several intriguing pictures in frames had been hung here and there and posters had been pinned to the walls in an effort to brighten the appearance of the place, they failed miserably in their job and an air of drabness still prevailed about the apartment. A small aquarium, sparsely filled with small gold fish, nestled amongst the various books and ornaments which stood on the shelves of a standing metal bookcase to the right of the window. Sam walked unsteadily over to the table and looked for anything which might help to tell him who, when or what he was. He pulled a newspaper out from amongst the untidy pile and held it under the light, the date at the top of the front page was the 31th March 1997. The newspaper looked new, if it was yesterdays, then today was obviously the 1st of April. Something itched in his memory, it felt strange, like there was something about the date that he really should remember. He desperately wanted to scratch that itch but his swiss-cheesed memory would not allow him to do so. "Well, at least I know when I am". he thought to himself. He leaned across to the blinds, slid his fingers between a couple of the slats and tweaked them open. He peered out, it had been raining, the newly risen sun was shining weakly, streaking the cloud ridden sky above the city sky-line with hues of red, purple and grey. Sam frowned, "A city! I'm in a big city!" Something in his memory clicked into place. "I know where I am! I recognize this city!! It's Washington D.C." A smile spread across his face, changing his worried expression into one of delight. He felt rather pleased to have recognized something. Then another thought struck him. He gazed around the room and called into the empty room, "Al, where are you? Who the hell am I? Why is it that you're never here when I need you?" The room remained silent and his holographic friend remained absent. Sam decided that he had better try to find out a little information for himself, as was usual. Sam looked through the other rooms until he found the washroom. He knew that he would find a mirror there and at least he would know what he looked like. He spotted one on the far side of the small bathroom, hanging on the wall above the sink. He braced himself mentally and stood in front of it. The face that stared back at him, was that of a rather red eyed, tired, unshaven, dark haired young man, he guessed him to be somewhere around thirty. Sam felt he was still not quite fully awake. Whoever this young man was, he definitely needed more sleep. He turned on the taps and splashed water onto his face. The cold water felt good on his skin, it helped to clear the sleep from his eyes and the cobwebs from his mind. He opened the bathroom cabinet that hung on the wall next to the mirror and found an electric razor. Twenty minutes later he felt a little better, having showered and shaved. He wondered to himself rather bewilderedly, why Al, his faithful companion and Project Observer hadn't shown up yet. What was keeping him. He decided it was time to search for more clues to why he was here and who he was. The door next to the bathroom was open slightly, so he decided to check there, first. He found the light switch and clicked it on, it was the bedroom. As he walked across to the wardrobe he noticed that the room definitely belonged to a single man. There was nothing fluffy or fancy about it to indicate any female presence at all and like the rest of the apartment it too, looked dingy. The clothes in the wardrobe were mostly of the conventional, conservative style, dark suits, white shirts and umpteen different ties. The pockets of the suits were empty apart from the odd pieces of crumpled paper that had been left in them. A long black coat had been flung across the crumpled bedspread. Sam sat down on the bed next to the coat and checked its pockets. He pulled open a wallet that he found there and went through the various identification cards, he slowly drew in a deep breath through closed teeth, "Well, now I know who I am." He said quietly, to himself. He felt inside the other inner pocket to see what else he could find. His fingers closed around another, thicker, wallet. He removed this, opened it, looked at it and announced to the empty room "Ohhh boy, I'm an F.B.I. Special Agent!" he scratched absent mindedly at the back of his neck, "At least, now I know who and what I am." He muttered under his breath. His train of thoughts were broken by the sudden warbling sounds of a phone ringing somewhere in the apartment. He leaped to his feet, following the sound, he dashed back into the lounge. It took him a few seconds to locate the cell phone which was almost hidden beneath the scattering of papers on the desk by the window. He dreaded picking it up. It was at times like this that he never quite knew what to say. It could be anybody, speaking about absolutely anything, none of which he would have any ideas about. He hesitated for a second or two longer, picked up the phone and held it to his ear, "Yes," he said quietly. He desperately looked around and closed his eyes hoping, just hoping, that Al would be there when he opened them but of course he wasn't that lucky, he never was. A soft but strong woman's voice on the other end called to him urgently, "Mulder, it's me, where are you?" Sam hesitated again, he was feeling very lost and a little uncomfortable about the situation he was in. It was always difficult answering the phone at the beginning of a leap even with Al's help, he never really knew what to say because he never knew how well he was acquainted with the caller. The woman's voice called to him again, this time a little anxiety could be heard in the tone of the voice. "Your land line is disconnected, were you aware of that?" Sam moved across to the table, flicked aside more papers, there was another phone. His fingers traced along the wire until it found the end, it had been unplugged! He desperately wondered if had been by accident or by design. The woman's voice called to him urgently, "Mulder, are you okay? Are you still there, Mulder!!??" "Er, yeah, er....I'm at home. I was sleeping....I guess I'm not quite awake yet. I must have accidentally pulled the phone from its connection last night.....sorry." he replied. The hand that clasped the phone to his ear trembled slightly. Although he didn't know a thing about this woman, there was something in her voice that seemed warm and familiar to him, something that even seemed a little comforting to listen to. "Yeah, I guess it is a little early but I've had a visit from Byers, he's been trying to contact you. Apparently, Langly has gone missing. Byers has asked us if we can use our resources to help find him. He said you owe him one! Look, I don't want to say too much here. Meet me outside the office. I'll fill you in with the rest of the details when I see you." Sam paused to let the conversation sink in to his confused mind. "Mulder, are you still there? ..... Mulder!?" "Yeah, okay, I guess I'll see you there then. Give me time to dress, I'll come meet you." he replied hesitantly. He was still somewhat at a loss as to know what to say or do next. The voice on the other end of the phone continued, "Too many late nights hey, Mulder." With that the conversation ended, the voice disappeared and the line disconnected. Sam let the phone drop onto the couch. His mind raced, he felt a little tide of panic rising from the pit of his stomach. Who had he got to meet? Was it his partner? How was he going to get to the office and more importantly, where was the office? How would he recognize the woman he was supposed to meet, he didn't know her. These were all questions that Al could answer....if only he was here! Sam held back his head and shouted into the emptiness of the room once more, "Al, where the hell are you!? I need you now!!." All that came to him was a slight echo, his own voice bouncing off the drab walls. He felt alone and a little angry. He clenched his fists and muttered to himself "You'd better have a dammed good excuse as to what kept you.....and it'd better not be a woman!" Sam pulled himself together, took stock of the situation and let his quick mind to kick into action. Oh well, if I'm an F.B.I Agent then I must obviously work at the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I can get a cab to take me there and at least that will be one problem solved. I guess I'd better get moving. Sam quickly dressed in what he thought would be appropriate garb for the job. Black suit, white shirt and tie. He picked up the long black coat, then noticed a gun in a shoulder holster, it had been laying hidden beneath the coat. He picked up the holster and withdrew the gun, holding it in his hand, he tested it's weight. He spun round quickly to face the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door, he aimed the gun at himself and frowned. He knew this wasn't the first time he had packed a gun but he still didn't care much for them. He always thought talking was a better option than a bullet. He studied his reflection in the mirror once more. He didn't often approve of the bodies he had leaped into but this body seemed to fit, it was an odd feeling. He shrugged and closed the wardrobe door. Deciding that as being a Fed could be a dangerous occupation he slid the gun back into it's holster and strapped it on. He pulled on the coat and picked up the cell phone slipping it into his inside coat pocket. He searched all the usual places for any signs of car keys but found none. "Oh well, I guess this guy doesn't have a car? At least it won't look too odd if I turn up in a cab." He muttered quietly to himself. Sam's stomach rumbled. He suddenly realized that he hadn't eaten and was feeling hungry and thirsty. He walked into the kitchen, found the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. He lifted it to his nose and tentatively sniffed it....his face creased into a look of disgust and he pulled the carton away quickly....the milk was definitely off the menu. He dropped the carton into the garbage bin. He went back to the fridge and took out a bottle of juice. He removed the cap and took several swigs from the bottle as he searched the kitchen cupboards for something handy to eat. There wasn't anything there that looked too fresh either except for a packet of cookies. He opened them and crammed a few into his mouth, he took another swig of juice, returned the bottle to the fridge. He spotted a big bag of sunflower seeds on the kitchen counter and scooped a large handful into his coat pocket. As he was about to open the door to the apartment, his foot kicked against something small, it skittered across the floor. He bent and picked it up, it was a small pocket book of matches. Either it had been dropped some time ago, or someone had recently pushed it under the door. He had no way of telling which explanation applied. He turned it over in his hands and gave it a cursory glance, frowning and considering what it could mean. He supposed that if he was a Special Agent, then someone could be passing him some kind of information. For now, he was in a hurry and had no time to spare thinking about the possibilities of it's meaning. He decided he would look at it more closely later on. He tucked it away in the inside pocket of his coat where he had earlier placed his phone. He walked through the doorway out into the hallway. He glanced back at the room number.....number 42. then he quickly made his way out of the building making a mental note of the address. CHAPTER TWO Once outside, he hailed a cab. "At least the driver will know where to take me." Sam muttered to himself. He stepped inside the cab and told the driver to take him to the Federal Bureau. Suddenly a light glared brightly beside him, accompanied by the familiar kerchunk noise of the Imaging Chamber door opening. The holographic image of Al appeared sitting there beside him, grinning. "Jeez....Al, don't do that!" Sam had become accustomed to Al suddenly appearing in almost any circumstance. Having him arrive and sitting next to him at such a close proximity unexpectedly and out of the blue or in Al's case out of the light, while travelling, never ceased to make Sam jump. The cab driver heard the sudden exclamation, looked in the rear view mirror at Sam and muttered to himself "uh oh, another nut!" Sam noticed the driver's look, nodded at Al and took out his phone and pretended to call someone so that he could talk to him without being thought of as a total freak! "Well, you certainly took your time getting here. Where the hell were you when I needed you back there?" Sam stabbed a thumb in the general direction of where he'd come from. Al raised an enquiring eye brow, "Why Sam, what happened?" "Well, I managed to discover who I am and I'm pretty sure of the date too but I had a phone call, I think it was from my partner. I didn't know what to say, it was kind of awkward and as usual I had to do some pretty fast thinking. What I really need to know, is, why am I here." "Ah." replied Al, sheepishly, "We're having a little trouble back at the Waiting Room and Ziggy's not being her usual helpful self." Sam gave Al a withering look. Al winced and retorted quickly, "Hey kid, it's not my fault. The guy you've leaped into has freaked. He's not saying anything other than he thinks we're all aliens and that we've abducted him. He sounds a real fruit-cake. For some unknown reason he keeps demanding to see his sister!!?? That's not the only problem, either." Al drew in a deep breath......"Today's date is 1st of April 1997...and you're here in April the 1st too, Sam..." He looked up at the face of his friend, watching for a reaction, it didn't come! "Yeah, well I said I kinda already found that out for myself. So, what's so odd about that, what's so special about the date?" asked Sam. Al stared at him for a few second, shook his head, waggled his cigar and continued, "No, you don't quite understand what I mean...it's the 1st here and it's the 1st of April back at the project too! We're both here in the same time frame...well, almost." he added quickly. He continued to stare at Sam, his dark eyes glinting, he gave an odd look, nodded down at Sam's wrist and puffed on his cigar, "Check your watch, what time do you make it." Sam glanced down at his watch, "It's 7am" he replied. "Well, Sam, my watch says 6am." Sam blinked in astonishment, "You mean, I'm an hour into the future? That's not possible is it?" Al stared at his friend in bewilderment, realization suddenly dawned on him. He shook his head and gestured to his gold watch, "No...no, Sam. Washimgton's time zone is different to here, there's a two hour difference. Here in New Mexico, we're two hours behind Washington D.C.!" Al was gesturing appropriately with his hands, "Do Ya see now? You actually leaped one hour back into time!...Some April fools joke..huh." he said quickly. Sam's eyebrows almost shot of the top of his head with complete amazement. "What exactly does that mean...for me, I mean?" "Well, we're not exactly sure what it means for you, Ziggy doesn't have any data that's that up to date. She doesn't carry up-to-the-minute information. She can't see into the future Sam, she says, she's a computer not a psychic! It seems to be causing all kinds of weird problems." Sam wasn't at all comfortable with the notion that Ziggy wouldn't know what was going to happen until it had almost occurred. Al caught the look on Sam's face and continued, "What we do know is, that you're a Federal Agent again and your name is Fox Mulder." he replied, staring at the handlink thoughtfully. "Yeah, I kind of already worked all that out for myself.....What do you mean a Federal Agent again?" Sam asked. "You worked for the Bureau once before but then your swiss-cheesed brain wouldn't allow you to remember that." replied Al, looking at his time travelling friend and shaking his head sympathetically. Sam shot a hard stare at Al. "Does Ziggy have anything at all? I need to know something, anything, no matter how trivial. Can she at least make a guess at why I'm here." he implored. Al stared in thought at the handlink and frowned, he sucked at his cigar and blew out billows of holographic smoke, Sam was glad it was only holographic smoke, it would have been quite overpowering in the confines of the cab. Al held up the handlink stabbed at the brightly coloured keys....no response....he jiggled it and then tapped it sharply on one end. A string of strange squeals and squeaks emanated from it. Al pulled a face and read off the answering data. "Ziggy's not sure, she's still blowing a gasket....she hasn't finished running all the data yet and she's not saying much. Sorry pal..this looks as though it's going to be one of those leaps." He paused and then muttered quietly to himself, "A real doozy too." Sam's voice began to rise with panic. "What do you mean she's not saying much. Any minute now I've got to meet my partner and I don't even know what she looks like let alone know what her name is! Al you've got to give me something to go on here!" Al grimaced and leaned away from him. "Okay! Okay! Sam....ya don't have to shout in my ear. I'm sitting right next to you, ya know". Al glanced down at the handlink again, then he brightened a little, "Hey, Sam, Ziggy's got somethin'. She can tell you a little about yourself and your partner but she's still not sure enough yet as to what you're here for." Al took a guess "Perhaps, as you and your lady partner are Fed's, you're here to save either her or yourself from getting killed?" He looked at Sam, spread his hands and shrugged. Sam spoke in a more hushed manner "Alright, give me what you do have." Al read off the new string of data. "Your partner's name is Dana Katherine Scully, she's thirty-three, single and oooh Sam, she's got brains, she's a scientist and a doctor. She taught pathology for the bureau....Yuk, all kinds of icky stuff. She should suit you to a tee. Hey, Ziggy says she had her Graduate Thesis published....it was all about time travel..yeah, here it is...`The Twin Paradox Theory - A new Interpretation'. She tried to re-write Einstein's Theory." Sam grinned broadly at his friend, "Yeah?....Really? Mmm, Einstein's Theory, uh,.....well, it will make a nice change to be around someone with some brains for a change," replied Sam sarcastically." Al glared back and huffed and puffed out more smoke at Sam. Sam just sat there breathed in deeply and grinned back at him. "Is Ziggy prepared to indulge us with a little more information than that." asked Sam, still a note of sarcasm in his voice. Al punched at the handlink once more. "You're thirty five, you're single...by the way that was your apartment back there." Al turned and stabbed a cigar butt in the same direction that Sam had indicated earlier. He glanced back at the data, "Oh boy" he said slowly, and let his breath escape with a whistle. Sam quickly looked at Al and replied "That's my line." Al looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Sam smiled, shook his head and said "Oh never mind. You wouldn't get it...go on." Al continued, with more than a hint of concern in his voice. "The guy you leaped into has had it pretty rough. A lot of Mulder's file seems to be classified but we do know that he lost his father a little while back. He was murdered Sam. It seems, they even suspected Mulder for a while. Oh, and Mulder's mom had a stroke about a year back, too. My God Sam! Ziggy says he had a sister, Samantha.....Hey, that's a coincidence Sam. Uh oh, she was kidnapped when she was eight....she was taken from right under Mulder's nose when he was a kid too....they never found her. According to Mulder's file, he never really got over it, he's still searching for her." Sam looked worriedly at Al, "Do you think I'm here to find her?" "Could be anyone's guess but that was a long time ago, Sam. I wouldn't think the case you're about to embark on will have anything to do with that." muttered Al, chewing the end of his cigar. "Al, does Ziggy know if I have a girlfriend somewhere? Do I have a relationship with.....with Scully, my partner?" Al raised both eyebrows in surprise, it wasn't the sort of question his friend usually asked, "What makes you ask that, Sam?" Sam searched for the right words to express adequately just what it was that he had felt but for some reason couldn't quite understand the feeling himself, let alone explain it. "I'm not sure....it was just...I just...I told you, she rang me earlier, she didn't say much but I got a strange feeling when I was speaking to her....that there was something between us....uh..Mulder and her. A bond, something very strong." Al studied his friends face, Sam looked as though he was trying to remember something. "According to the data, Scully is single but there's no mention of a man in her life...not even you Sam...er...should I say Fox. No, no, from my experience of F.B.I. women, they are usually all dogs....except for Joannie, she was a real babe, she reminded me of my second...no, my third wife. Did I ever tell you about the time...." Sam ignored the reference to Fox and to Al's ramblings. With his free hand, he absentmindedly pulled out some sunflower seeds from his pocket and began nibbling at them. Al stopped talking and watched as Sam continued eating the seeds. He wrinkled his nose. "Hey, since when did you develope a liking for those awful things....you always said you hated the taste of them." Sam suddenly became aware of what he was doing, grimaced and let the rest of the seeds fall to the floor of the cab. "Are you sure you're okay kid?" queried Al. Sam turned to face Al and said, "Yeah, I'm okay, I was a little lost in thought there for a minute. Are you sure that's all Ziggy can give me?" Al returned to thumping the handlink. A string of useless data appeared. "God-dammit, what is going on back there. Ziggy's not responding! I'm sure there's something she's deliberately not letting on about." He frowned and smacked the handlink which squealed again. He pulled a face and tucked the hand link into his jacket pocket. He glanced out of the window, and gestured at the large building they were approaching. "Look, I think we're here kid!" At that moment the cab slowed to a stop out side the J Edgar Hoover Building. Sam put away his phone, got out and paid the driver. He stood and surveyed the area. A woman called to him standing from across the street. "Hey Mulder, over here." "Hey, look, over there, Sam...there she is. She's waiting for you." Al's face creased into a wicked grin, his coal-black eyes joined in the amusement and sparkled brightly. "Aw, she's cute too, Sam. Brains and beauty, what more could a man want. "He stabbed his cigar in the direction of the slim, attractive young woman with shoulder length red hair. Sam looked across the road and saw the young lady Al was gesturing towards. He had to agree...she was lovely, she had classic beauty. She was wearing a long black coat, similar to his own, over a pale coloured trouser suit. Sam glanced back at his friend, who was leering as usual and for the first time since Al arrived, he noticed what Al was wearing. How could he have missed it!!?? Al was wearing a vivid lime green suit with dark green shirt and dark red waist-coat, topped off by a hat of the same colour. Sam turned and whispered to Al, "What on earth are you wearing, Al!?" "Ooh, yeah. A present from Tina. She gave it to me last night...kick in the butt, ain't it." Al was beaming from ear to ear and was obviously pleased with Tina's gift. He spread his hands and did a little twirl. "What do you think?" "What do I think, I think you look like a leprechaun, that's what I think!" "Yeah," retorted Al, as he turned to trot off towards Scully, "well, what do you know, Mr Fashion conscious," he indicted at Sam or rather Fox's sober attire..."women happen to love green." Sam caught up with him and found himself in front of Dana Scully. The handlink squealed into life. Al looked at it and frowned, "Uh oh, Gushie's calling me back, there must be a problem. I'd better go back to check things out. You hang on in there, kid." Sam shot him a pleading look but his friend was already in the process of opening the Imaging Chamber door. There was the familiar sudden appearance of a white light. Al turned briefly to him and added, "Just act like a Fed. Go and do some investigating or somethin', I'll be as quick as I can." With that, he disappeared through the Imaging Chamber door. CHAPTER THREE Al walked out of the Imaging Chamber straight into the presence of a rather distraught Gushie. Al backed away from him slightly, trying not to get to close to the man's unfortunate, halitosis problem. "Admiral, thank goodness you're back....Ziggy won't talk to us, she seems to be sulking and Dr Beeks is having a terrible time with the new arrival. Come quickly, she asked me to fetch you as soon as you arrived." With that, Gushie ushered Al quickly out of the Control Room and down the corridor towards the Waiting Room. Al trotted to keep up with the head technician. "Look Gushie...I know the guy who leaped in here was a bit of a nut case but surely Beeks must have gotten him calmed down by now?" Gushie began to stutter... "Oh n..n..no, Admiral, if anything he's.....he's reacting even more unstably...violently than before!" It was obvious that Gushie had been quite shaken by something. Al moved closer to the Waiting Room door and peered through the small viewing window, The guy inside Sam's body was pacing the floor, he could almost imagine Sam doing the very same thing, except this guy's body language was extremely threatening. His arms were held rigidly against his sides, with his hands balled into fists. His head was tilted back slightly and his features were creased with an expression of rancour and fear. He was shouting angrily, he didn't look a happy man at all. Al quickly looked along the corridor and called to a security guard to come and take up duty outside the entrance to the room. He then called to Ziggy to give him entry to the, now, secured Waiting Room. As soon as he entered, Mulder immediately turned his aggression towards him. "Who the hell are you? No, wait a minute you were here before, when I first woke up. Why have you brought me here? You've no right to keep me here! I want to know what's going on.......?" Mulder gestured angrily towards the two women in the room, "They've given me nothing but garbage... I want the truth!" he demanded. Al took a couple of steps towards Mulder. He gestured to Verbena Beeks and her colleague that they should leave it to him...it was a look that the lady psychologist had come to recognize, she began to argue with him but Al cut her short with a stern look and a wave of his hand. The pair sidled quickly behind him and left him alone in the room with the irate Mulder. Al was well capable of handling himself. He'd been in the Navy for most of his adult years. His Naval training made him a formidable enemy to those who tangled with him. Even so, he noticed Verbena say something to the security guard, who moved closer to the window and watched the ensuing encounter. Mulder stood glaring at Al, he shouted across to him, "Are you going to tell me why I'm here or not?" There was almost pure hatred in the tones of his voice. Then he continued venomously, "It was you wasn't it! It was you who kidnapped Scully?" Al flinched at those tones, he'd heard hatred in a voice before.....a long time ago, when he'd been a caged POW in Cham Hoi. He could understand how Mulder must be feeling, it helped him not to return any anger or impatience of his own. He stood his ground. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. We don't deliberately go around kidnapping anyone. We've certainly never had anything to do with your partner Scully. We haven't exactly kidnapped you, either. Although I can see from your point of view, you would naturally assume as much." Mulder stood staring at the little man in the weird attire and asked, "So why don't you just let me go....or isn't that policy?" Al tried to calm the man down, he smiled slightly, just enough to offer friendship. "I'd like very much to let you go but it's not that simple.....I'm very much afraid we can't let you go just yet....it's not up to us anyway. Yes, we do have policies and I admit that is one reason I'm not allowed to tell you everything that goes on here but trust.....trust works both ways. You don't trust us....we're not sure that we can trust you. We don't know how much of this you will remember when you get home. Our policies and protocols are to protect this project and to protect you, Mr Mulder." Mulder snorted, shot him a fierce look and retorted, "Yeah, I know all about policy....cut the bull....tell me what's going on here!" Mulder stood very still, watching Al closely, he narrowed his eyes, a small muscle twitched at the side of his right cheek, "Okay, I'm listening. You've got my undivided attention, suppose you tell me as much as you can." he said. Al sucked on his cigar and began, "I'll try to explain but you'll have to understand that I can't tell you everything." He waved a hand in the direction of the clinical metallic bed in the centre of the room. "I think you might want to sit down for this......" Half an hour later Al still hadn't convinced Mulder that he was safe and that they weren't going to use him for any dubious experiments. Of course, he hadn't been able to tell the confused man everything that had happened to him or what really went on at the Project Centre, that was, as he'd said, policy, he'd had to use other well used explanations for what had occurred. That information was usually withheld from their guests, particularly if they were of a violent disposition and Mulder was definitely the violent type. Mulder stood, a pensive look on his face. He started to pace the floor once more, his body language had changed, he began to look a little more controlled. He turned, walked back to the bed and suddenly caught sight of his reflection in the highly polished surface of the metal...his meditative expression immediately altered to one of stunned shock. He looked down at his body, then examined his hands closely, he spun round to face Al, all the anger and bitterness from earlier suddenly returned with renewed, explosive force. He turned on Al and shouted. "What the hell have you done to me? You've given me drugs, haven't you. You asked me to trust you, you fill my head with a load of crap......you do this to me." He looked down at himself, he held out his hands in front of him. He looked at Al, it was an almost pleading, helpless look." Al blanched and looked away. "I'm sorry pal...I've tried to explain things, I can't tell you everything...what more can I say, what can I do to convince you?" Mulder's pleading eyes darkened with rage, "I got too close to the truth! I know too much. You think that by keeping me here...brainwashing me you can get rid of me....get rid of the X-files. That's it....you want to get the X-files closed again. Well, you won't.....Scully and Skinner will see to that." Mulder lunged forwards, caught Al off guard, grabbed him by the lapels of his suit and pushed him hard against the wall, holding him there. He pushed his face close to Al's, his lips curled back in a vicious snarl as he spat the words, "I want answers, I want the truth." A look of sheer surprise and exasperation spread across Al's face. He controlled the urge to hit out at the enraged man. A second later and the security guard burst into the room with his gun aimed directly at Mulder or from the guards point of view, directly at Dr Beckett. Al quickly yelled over at the guard. "No, no guns! You can't shoot him!" Mulder's quick mind immediately picked up on the short conversation, he sensed he had some kind of an edge here. Why couldn't they shoot him? He loosened his grip, shoving Al away from him and stepped back a pace. Al moved away from him, adjusting his suit as he did so. "Look I've had just about as much of this as I'm going to take, if you won't be reasonable, if you won't calm down and trust us, then....I'm telling you the truth here...then, we will have to restrain....pacify you by force. We....I don't like doing that but we will if we have too." Mulder scowled at Al and moved back to the other side of the Waiting Room. "You're not sticking anymore needles into me." Al tried to speak gently. "We haven't drugged you or given you any injections of any sorts....yet. Settle down, the quicker you accept the situation for what it is,the quicker you might get out of here. Believe me kid, I would love to be able to let you walk out of here right now but you must know that isn't possible just yet. Look...there are things I need to know if I'm going to be able to help you. Give yourself a break...give me a break, kid." he implored. Mulder moved back to the bed and slumped down onto it, elbows resting on his knees, his head buried in his hands. He spoke a little more calmly, "How can I trust you when I can't believe a word you're telling me." "You're going to have to try. I'm sure you of all people must have seen plenty of really weird things in your time. This is just another one of those times." said Al, sympathy creeping into the tones of his voice. "Get some rest. I'll come back in a little while." Al glanced over at the guard who was still standing in front of the Waiting Room door. "It's okay, you can wait outside now. I'm going to get a cup of coffee. Mr. Mulder here could probably do with a hot strong cup, too, make sure that he gets one." The guard moved back into the corridor, Al followed him out, he paused in the doorway and looked back at Mulder. He felt real sympathy for the poor guy. -- Heather Markham