By Adrienne
davephile@yahoo.com
 

Date: Sat, 3 Jun 2000
Rating PG-13
Category: VA (Vignette, Angst)
Spoilers: none
Legal Disclaimer: The characters of Fox Mulder, Dana
Scully and Walter Skinner belong to Chris Carter and
all of his homeys, and not me, and trust me I am not
making any money off of this thing.
Author's notes: I wrote this for the COX (wait, let me
finish) May 2000 fanfic challenge.  I won second
place. Yeehaw! http://churchofx.main-page.net
Summary: After being kidnapped, Mulder and Scully
listen to a tape recording of their experience.
____________________________
 

"We confiscated a tape on the premises. A tape
recording."

Mulder, running his hand through the back of his hair,
shifted in the fabric-covered hardness of the seat.
"Of what, sir?"

Scully stayed silent, her sight drifting over the dark
grain of the front of Skinner's desk.

"Of your abduction." Skinner saw her stiffen in her
chair, fingers tight against the wooden arms. Knuckles
turning flesh to pink to white in a matter of seconds.
Clearing his throat, he continued. "We assume it's of
your abduction. We need you to listen to it. To
clarify things that were said."

Mulder looked to the left and reached out to place a
hand tentatively over hers, which was icy cold and
still adhered to the chair. She looked up and over at
him, her eyes darkening.

"I'll listen," she said softly, pushing herself up
with a shaky breath. She turned and walked out of the
office. Mulder grabbed the tape from the edge of
Skinner's desk and followed without speaking.

***

He found her in the basement office, slouched back in
his chair behind the desk and spinning pencils in
circles on a pile of papers. She flicked the pencil
again, watching it fly off, clatter against the tile
floor and roll away.

"You really don't have to do this, Scully." Mulder
walked over to her and sat on the edge of the desk.
She sighed, sitting up straight and eyeing the tape he
held tightly in his hand.

"I don't mind," she replied with an arch of an
eyebrow. He tentatively touched her face, running his
thumb over her cheek. She closed her eyes. "It should
be... interesting to see what we said. I don't
remember most of it anyway."

Mulder wasn't so sure. Though they had apparently been
drugged, he could still recall most of their
conversations, could still feel the pricks of pain
after waking up in the darkness, hard-pressed against
the wooden back of a chair.

He had tilted his head back, met hers and realized
they had been tied together at the back, their arms
drawn behind them and handcuffed.

"Yeah," he answered softly now, running his fingers
down her jaw before standing up and walking over to
the tape player. "You just tell me if you need me to
turn it off...or if you need to leave, just leave. I
can do this alone."

Scully leaned back, her eyes still closed, and bit her
lip as she heard him turn it on and insert the tape.
Mulder pressed play.

The tape was a muffled, low-quality recording that cut
in and out due to a cheap microphone and an old tape
recorder.  It had been placed in a corner of the room,
though it was too dark for either of them to see it.

The first thing they heard was fuzzy nothingness,
followed by mumbling. Mulder turned up the volume.

***

"Was it in the coffee?"

"I don't know. How much did you drink?"

"The whole cup."

"I had half...too bitter...should have told you...too
bitter."

***

"Are you okay?" Mulder asked, uncrossing his arms and
walking toward her as she put her head in one hand,
elbow grinding against his desk. She shook her head
without looking up at him, even when he tentatively
sifted fingers through the back of her hair.

*Talk to me, Scully. Just talk to me.*

***

"Do...know who this guy is?"

"I...see his face...too dark in here."

"We'll get out of here, Scully...out of the
handcuffs?"

"No, I tried. It hurts too much...saw us...called for
help."

"Maybe."

***

The question in their heads was why, for what purpose
were they taken. It was the question they had asked
themselves in silence, over and over in the musky
dampness of the cellar.

He only came down once to see them, and neither of
them could make out his face.  They didn't bother to
ask him why he did it, or what he wanted.

***

"...downthestairs..."

"ssshhhh."

*click.  Click.  click.*

"Hello?"
 

Scully took a deep breath and shuddered as the tape
relayed the sharp impact of his palm flat against the
side of her face, followed by her whimper and Mulder's
irate scream.
 

"What the hell are you doing??"
 

She could still feel his fingers lightly fluttering
over her swollen cheek. She could still feel the
rocking and straining of the chairs as Mulder fought
to free his hands.
 

"Don't touch her!  Don't do it, I *will* kill you, I
swear to God I'll kill you..."

***

As unexplainable as his entrance was his exit, the
same dissipating click of the heels across the room
and up the stairs, the same slam of the door barely
picked up by the recorder.

The white noise was deafening.  Scully pulled her head
away from Mulder's fingers and looked up at him, her
eyes presenting a defiant glare as she resisted her
tears.  He looked away, stretching his fingers and
dropping them to his side with a sigh.

She could hear her deep breaths on the tape and
remembered the effort it took to keep composure, to
keep the sobs inside and to keep her chair from
shaking with them.

***

"You know what I'm thinking about now, Scully?"
 

She listened intently to the light buzzing of the
recorder, a few clicks filling the silence.  She
remembered not responding at all, her mouth gaping
open, heartbeat throbbing in the side of her face.
 

"...watched kids in the park ...for Easter eggs
yesterday...Sunday. Remember...that?"

"Yeah..."

"It was a beautiful day...sun out, birds singing."

"I remember that too."
 

And then there was nothing.  She knew there was more,
but neither of them had actually spoken for awhile
afterward.  They had just sat together, stretching
their fingers and pulling their wrists against the
metal cuffs, still wondering why they were there.

And they may have been able to discover why, had he
not shot himself and been found dead in a pool of
blood on the floor above them.

***

With a sigh, Mulder walked over to the tape player and
fast-forwarded, the fuzz taking on a higher tone until
a dull explosion echoed over the tape.  He stopped it
in his own mid-sentence.

"...gunshot"

"...hear that Mulder...hear...Mulder"

"Ssshhhh...Scully...quiet, hold my hands"
 

Scully folded her arms on the desk and lay her cheek
against them, closing her eyes to see the darkness
that had surrounded them only a day before.
 

"was a...shot...thump...floor, someone's dead up
there, Mulder"

"Ssshhh, Scully..."

"...him? was it him?"

"...quiet now."
 

Mulder cringed as he heard her soft whimper through
the faint whisper of the tape.
 

"Mulder I...what do we do?"

"Sssshhhhh...listen to me..."

"Mulder..."

"Scully."

"...hands tighter. Please, please"

"If I die today...glad it's beside you."
 

Scully lifted her head, her widened eyes meeting his
pained gaze.
 

"What...you say?"

"...nothing, be quiet Scully...be here soon."
 

Their voices faded out. The white noise continued,
unabated, extending over the minutes in which they
stared into each other's eyes.

Until he turned it off.

- the end -
 
 

=====
uber-scully slash
http://petpede.tripod.com