From: msnsc21@yahoo.com   
      
   Title: Reimagined: IWTB   
   Author: ML   
   Email: msnsc21@yahoo.com   
   Rating: 14 and up   
   Spoilers: "The X-Files: I Want to Believe"   
   Synopsis:  a "fanfic-ization" of the second XF movie   
   Disclaimer:   Please note that I do not claim ownership of anything   
   to do with the movie or the novel, I am doing this solely for   
   entertainment/amusement purposes, and not to make any profit or gain   
   from it.  In fact, this is in celebration of the release of the DVD.   
      
   Acknowledgments: To the Posse, for making me stick with it!  Also, I   
   am so grateful to CC, FS, DD and GA, and all the other folks at Fox   
   and elsewhere who made the second movie possible.  Spending the last   
   couple of months with this story is the most fun I've had in a long   
   time.  I hope you get some enjoyment out of it, too.  More notes at   
   end: right now, on with the show!   
      
   x-x-x   
      
   Prologue   
      
   Rural Virginia, early January 2008   
      
   She almost didn't need her headlights, the moon was so bright on the   
   snow.   
      
   Monica Bannan was feeling good.  She'd made it to the community pool   
   in time for a good workout, and was looking forward to a nice evening   
   by the fire before hitting the sack.  The roads had been plowed since   
   the last heavy snowfall, and at this time of night in her   
   neighborhood, she had the road to herself.   
      
   She actually found herself looking forward to getting back to the   
   office on Monday.  A couple of days of being snowed in were more than   
   enough for her.  Fortunately, the power had stayed on so she'd been   
   able to telecommute, or she really might have gone a little stir   
   crazy.  As it was, she'd been glad to finally get out for a drive and   
   some exercise today.   
      
   She pulled into her carport and noticed that her dog, Ranger, was   
   barking furiously from inside.  Instantly she was on the alert.  This   
   was not Ranger's "welcome home" bark, this was his "intruders!" bark.   
      
   She sat in the car for a moment.  As an FBI agent, she had a gun.   
   Unfortunately, at the moment it was locked in her trunk.  She might   
   be able to quietly get it out, depending on where the intruder (if in   
   fact there was one) lurked.   
      
   Then she saw it in the moonlight: the barest bit of vapor, just   
   beyond her carport entrance.  Like the vapor of an expelled breath.   
      
   Quietly she got out of her car, and chose an impromptu weapon from   
   the wall of gardening tools.  The hand rake would do.  It would have   
   to do, until she could get into her house for her other gun.  She   
   gripped her keys in her other hand like an auxiliary weapon:  brass   
   knuckles with sharp edges.   
      
   As she reached the opening of the carport, she raised her weapons.   
   When the figure showed itself, she struck quickly once, then again.   
      
   An otherworldly groan escaped as the man she wounded reeled back,   
   clutching his face with his bloodied hand.  Her fleeting glimpse of   
   him relayed that he looked odd -- very gaunt, and almost hairless.   
   Almost inhuman.   
      
   Before she could strike again, another man rushed her.  With no time   
   to strike at him and no time to open her front door, she turned and   
   ran for her carport door.  It led to the back of her house, and from   
   there she'd have a head start running to a neighbor's.  She might   
   have made it but for the snow piled up, keeping her from opening it   
   fully.   
      
   The second assailant tackled her and brought her down.  Still she   
   managed to wrest herself from his grasp, and crawled through the   
   door's opening.  She ran away from her house, hoping she might make   
   it to her neighbor, several hundred yards away.  She screamed, but   
   had little hope that anyone would hear her.  Everyone was buttoned up   
   tight on this cold January night.  She would have to save herself.   
      
   She ran across the snowy field, only to be tackled again.  As she   
   struggled to break free, something cold was pressed against her neck,   
   and the moonlit field went black.   
      
   -x-   
      
   Chapter One:  Finding Fox Mulder   
      
   Calling Fox Mulder in on a case was the best and worst career   
   decision Dakota Whitney ever made.   
      
   Of course, by the time she realized the worst part, it was too late.   
      
   x-x-x   
      
   The FBI Academy at Quantico was a different place in the twenty-   
   first century.  Certain changes were to be expected, to be sure: new   
   techniques and tools became available and therefore were used in   
   training the new recruits to the FBI.  There were new cases to be   
   studied.  Instructors rotated in and out, and with them came their   
   own experiences and anecdotes.   
      
   On the surface, at least, someone visiting Quantico after a time   
   away would not notice anything appreciably different.  Certain   
   institutional icons still existed, such as Hogan's Alley, and the   
   Wall of Fame for particularly distinguished graduates.  Nonetheless,   
   a little revisionist history had taken place.  Certain names and   
   certain cases were no longer used as examples by any of the   
   instructors.  Plaques listing achievements of past graduates had been   
   removed and revised.  It was as if the institutional memory had had a   
   selective wipe.   
      
   Therefore, it was not until after Special Agent Dakota Whitney had   
   been out of the Academy for a while that she first heard a reference   
   to "Spooky" Mulder in connection with a case.   
      
   She'd been working on her first big assignment, acting as a lowly go-   
   fer for the incident team.  Eager to make a good impression, she came   
   in early and stayed late, studying the files in the situation room   
   and reviewing anything she could find in the FBI database that might   
   help.   
      
   One evening as she sat reviewing the day's evidence, a couple of   
   veteran agents came in.  They were talking about the case and did not   
   notice that Dakota was still in the room.   
      
   She half-listened, because she always listened.  You never knew what   
   you might hear.   
      
   One of the agents said, "What d'you suppose ol' Spooky would have   
   done?"   
      
   "He'd have gotten inside that guy's head, and had the whole thing   
   solved before lunch time," the other one said.   
      
   "Yeah, they don't make 'em like Spooky Mulder any more," said the   
   first.  "I can remember --"   
      
   Agent Two cut his eyes over to Dakota Whitney, hunched over her   
   laptop.  The conversation abruptly stopped.   
      
   "Don't scare the new kid," Agent Two said in a stage whisper.   
   "Wouldn't want word to get around we mentioned the unmentionable."   
   The two rose and abruptly left the room.   
      
   Ever curious, Dakota Whitney went on a hunt.  She searched out any   
   case with the name Mulder attached.  Eventually she stumbled on an   
   archived database containing scanned files.  Oddly, many of them   
   appeared to have been damaged in some kind of fire or explosion, and   
   had been pieced together and scanned into the database.   
      
   To say that the content was unusual would be an understatement.   
   Reading the files became an avocation.  Certainly many of the cases   
   themselves seemed to defy belief, but the investigative techniques   
   and the conclusions were usually well-thought out.   
      
   Most were signed by both Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, though it was   
   clear that Special Agent Mulder got the credit for the more   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)