On Saturday, April 21, 2001 at 11:40:19 AM UTC-5, Martha wrote:   
   > EPHEMERAL:  OK TO LIST WITH EPHEMERAL   
   > GOSSAMER:   PLEASE DO NOT ARCHIVE THIS VERSION   
   >    
   > The characters contained in this story are the creative    
   > property of FOX Broadcasting and 1013 Productions and are    
   > used without their permission.   
   >    
   > Classific:  V   
   > Rating:	    R - for swearing   
   > Spoilers:   DeadAlive & Three Words (US8)   
   > Summary:    The Lone Gunmen are told the news of Mulder -    
   >             missing scenes from both episodes.   
   >    
   >    
   > Hope Abandoned / Hope Redeemed   
   > by Martha   
   > marthalgm@yahoo.com   
   >    
   >    
   > Lone Gunmen Headquarters   
   > 11:15pm   
   >    
   > As Doggett stepped out of the car, he knew - he *just* knew    
   > - that this little excursion to the outskirts of DC had    
   > taken a weird turn.  He did not imagine that motion    
   > detectors and security cameras were the norm in this area of    
   > dilapidated warehouses.  "She did tell me these guys were    
   > odd," he whispered out loud and was then suddenly self-   
   > conscious that perhaps microphones were also standard    
   > equipment for them.   
   >    
   > As he approached the door, he ignored the whirring sound of    
   > the camera movement and pressed the buzzer.  After a brief    
   > pause with no response, he buzzed them again.  After another    
   > moment, he yelled out an `hello' just in case there were    
   > voice detectors out of his range of sight.   
   >    
   > Frohike heard the commotion coming from the front of the    
   > offices and headed for the door to find out what was going    
   > on.  He found Langly already at the front door, eyeing the    
   > monitor but making no move to communicate with their visitor    
   > or to let him in.  "Who's out there?"   
   >    
   > "It's Agent Doggett."  Langly looked over his shoulder back    
   > at Frohike.  "Did someone give him directions here?"   
   >    
   > "Not me.  Maybe Byers."  Frohike noticed that Langly was    
   > still not making a move to acknowledge their visitor.  "We    
   > know Agent Doggett.  He doesn't bite, so open up."   
   >    
   > "But he's FBI."   
   >    
   > This struck Frohike as odd.  "Scully's FBI.  And so's    
   > Mulder."   
   >    
   > "And he was with the Marines."   
   >    
   > "As was Skinner, and you've let him in."  Frohike took a few    
   > more steps towards the door.  "What does any of this    
   > matter?"   
   >    
   > "But he used to be a cop."   
   >    
   > "Langly . . ."   
   >    
   > "A New York *City* cop, Frohike."   
   >    
   > "Langly!"   
   >    
   > "What are you doing?"  Byers had snuck up behind Frohike and    
   > had observed the last half of the exchange between his    
   > partners and noted Doggett's growing impatience on the other    
   > side of the door.  "Would you let him in?" he scolded.   
   >    
   > Langly was still on the whiny track.  "Oh, all right."   
   >    
   > Doggett was surprised to be facing all three Lone Gunmen as    
   > the door opened and wondered if this was standard procedure    
   > with them and if it was why it took so long to gain    
   > admittance.  He began thinking that perhaps there was some    
   > sort of imaging device that he had passed through that    
   > needed to be reviewed.  She did warn me, he reminded    
   > himself.   
   >    
   > He followed Byers' lead into the Gunmen's warehouse, his    
   > eyes taking in a 180-degree view at the variety of equipment    
   > and general upheaval that he had just entered.  Doggett    
   > sharply turned around as he heard Frohike begin to reset all    
   > the locks behind him.  "All hope abandon, ye who enter    
   > here," he muttered under his breath.   
   >    
   > Frohike overheard him.  "It may look like hell, but we call    
   > it home."   
   >    
   > Langly brought up the rear.  "Out slumming?"     
   >    
   > "No, Langly.  It's . . ."  Doggett paused, unsure of how to    
   > begin this conversation.   
   >    
   > Byers prompted him.  "I take it that this is not a social    
   > call?"   
   >    
   > "Correct.  Agent Scully mentioned that she would need to    
   > talk with you, but I convinced her that a phone call was    
   > probably not appropriate at this time.  So I took it upon    
   > myself to come on over."   
   >    
   > "Not appropriate?"  Frohike looked his two partners and then    
   > glared back at Doggett.  "Where's Scully?"   
   >    
   > Uncertain as to how this trio would take the news and unable    
   > to face them directly, Doggett began pacing beside one of    
   > the work tables.  "We were in Montana.  We were checking out    
   > some leads . . ."   
   >    
   > "Just spit it out, man."  Langly was getting bored with the    
   > drawn out sentences.  "What's with the dramatics?"   
   >    
   > Doggett's pacing came to an abrupt stop, and he let the    
   > punchline slip out.  "Mulder's dead."  He could feel their    
   > eyes burning a hole in his chest, but he could not look up    
   > at them.  He needed to start over from the beginning.  "We    
   > found several of the people that were listed as missing from    
   > that place . . . Bellefleur, Oregon.  We found them through    
   > this group."   
   >    
   > "Wait a fucking minute."  Frohike's voice reverberated among    
   > the metal shelving surrounding them.  "What do you mean    
   > `Mulder's dead'?"   
   >    
   > Doggett's voice was soft in comparison.  "We found Mulder    
   > last night.  Out in a middle of the woods while we were    
   > questioning these people at this camp.  We came across his    
   > body."   
   >    
   > "It's not him."  Langly was not buying into this and his    
   > insistence grew.  "It can't be him."   
   >    
   > "Both Agent Scully and Assistant Director Skinner have ID'd    
   > him.  We have a fingerprint match."  Doggett finally turned    
   > to the three, hoping to make them understand.  "Guys, this    
   > is no joke.  I hate to be the one that had to come out here    
   > and tell you this, but it's him.  It *is* Fox Mulder."   
   >    
   > Langly was still not believing any of this.  "Montana?  We    
   > haven't gotten any reports from there in a few days.  Do you    
   > think . . ."   
   >    
   > "Frohike, are you all right?" Doggett interrupted, shaking    
   > his head.  "You don't look so good."   
   >    
   > Byers turned to look back at Frohike.  While he and Langly    
   > had approached Doggett during the last few exchanges,    
   > Frohike had not moved.  Byers noticed the sudden paleness in    
   > his face and the glazing over of his eyes and rushed to his    
   > side.  "Damn it, Frohike, don't you faint on us now."     
   > Grabbing him by the arms, he pulled Frohike over towards the    
   > couch.  "Sit over here, and put your head between your    
   > knees.  Langly, go the kitchen and soak some of the dish    
   > towels in cool water and bring them back here."  He looked    
   > back up at Doggett and began to gently massage Frohike's    
   > shoulders. "Tell us about Montana."   
   >    
   > Frohike abruptly sat up and began another tirade.  "Christ,    
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)