From: mrkeller829@gmail.com   
      
   =====o============================o=====   
   "Chermera" by Mary Ruth Keller Part 23  of 45   
   E-mail: mrkeller@eclipse.net, mrkeller829@gmail.com   
   PG-13   X-File: Myth-arc   Disclaimed in Part I   
   Already sent to Gossamer   
   =====o============================o=====   
      
   Hard Times Cafe   
   1404 King Street   
   Alexandria, VA   
   Wednesday, June 17, 1998   
   8:18 pm   
      
   Scully checked her partner's face as he waited beside her. Why here? When he   
   had suggested dinner, she had assumed he was looking for another quiet   
   home-cooked meal at her apartment, not at this boisterous eatery, filled with   
   families, where Tom Mix and    
   William Hart gazed down on them as Gene Autry warbled.   
      
   At the hostess's nod, Mulder touched his partner's back, then the two followed   
   her to the second floor. The room was mostly empty, so the pair were seated at   
   a small distressed-wood table close to the wait station. He dug a packet of   
   oyster crackers out    
   of a plastic basket on the table to pop it open, then rooted around happily,   
   retrieving and crunching as she watched.   
      
   She flipped through the menu, then closed it. "Mulder, this doesn't seem like   
   your kind of place."   
      
   He sent her a lop-sided grin. "All the better to avoid any unnecessary   
   surveillance, Agent Scully."   
      
   Her forehead wrinkled. "Have we been? Under surveillance, I mean?" She checked   
   around the dining area, where one other couple was seated close to the exit.   
   She turned back to him. "So, what's on your mind, Mulder?"   
      
   They stopped while the waiter approached the table, then, after his departure,   
   he crossed his arms on the placemat. "Scully, I can't tell you how difficult   
   it was to just stand there and listen to Charlie berate you. After what   
   happened last year with    
   your nephew, I can't see why he still thinks the way he does. Please, tell me   
   what I can do to help."   
      
   She nodded her thanks as her mineral water was placed on a napkin to her   
   right, then, took several sips. "I wish I knew, Mulder. I don't see how to   
   square this circle. I may just have to give them what they want and -"   
      
   "No!" The intense response was unvoiced. "You can't."   
      
   She cocked an eyebrow. " - permanently end all contact with them and their   
   families."   
      
   He shifted uneasily.   
      
   A crash drowned out Gene for a moment. The partners reached instinctively for   
   their weapons, then Mulder shook his head. One of the diners seated close to   
   the door had sent his beer to the floor via an energetic wave during a   
   particularly long story he    
   was relating to his companion. The glass had shattered, so the wait-staff were   
   running back and forth, apologizing as they carried towels and mops.   
      
   Her shoulders sagged. "I know Bill. He's playing at brinkmanship with me, as   
   he always does, to try to make me give in and do what he wants." After   
   smoothing the long napkin on her lap, she raised her sorrowing gaze to his.   
   "Why is it so hard for my    
   family to accept who I am?" She interlaced her fingers on the place-mat to   
   stare down at them. "Mulder, you have no problem with your sister's choice of   
   profession, or her life in academia, even though that may not be what you   
   thought she would become.    
   Ahab was thrilled I chose medicine. Even Mom, my hearth-focused Mom, supported   
   me." The auburn pageboy shook. "They were dead-set against me joining the   
   Bureau, and she has never stopped prodding and prompting me about getting   
   married, but they never    
   wanted me to just stay at home dusting furniture for the rest of my days, the   
   way Bill and Charlie do."   
      
   He reached across the table to cover her slight hands with his palm. She made   
   no effort to shift them away, which set deep ridges in his forehead. "Scully,   
   I -"   
      
   Her trilling cell captured both their attentions, then she simply announced   
   her name after placing the unit on her ear. She broke into a broad smile at   
   the gravel she heard. "Nichols? How was the flight?" She nodded. "Okay, I'll   
   tell Mulder. We won't be    
   able to get out tonight, so we'll be on our way out there in the morning." She   
   terminated the call.   
      
   "What?" He leaned toward her.   
      
   She rested the phone back on the tabletop. "Our U. S. Marshal has turned up   
   dead. He must have known more than the Shadows thought he should. Nichols has   
   him in their morgue so I can perform the autopsy as soon as we land. That   
   document of his is locked    
   in the safe at the Gunmen's. We'll have to scrutinize it carefully on our   
   return."   
      
   They waited while his onion rings and her salad descended in front of them.   
      
   Mulder filled a small bowl with ketchup. "Okay, we'll make the arrangements   
   and be on the first flight out of National once it reopens in the morning." He   
   began chewing noisily. "You're missing the good stuff, Scully."   
      
   She sighed as she nibbled at the tomato on her fork. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."   
   Suddenly feeling impulsive, she eyed the tightly-packed beer-battered rings.   
      
   Their dark moods dissipating at the prospect of a new investigation, he slid a   
   red bottle toward her. "Try it with the Reagan vegetable. One won't clog those   
   pristine arteries." He snorted as a solid clump of three were moved onto her   
   small plate.   
      
   After breaking one free, she looked over at him soberly. "Mulder, we'll have   
   to fly separately."   
      
   With a sigh, he nodded. "Yeah, we will. We'll have to make several connections   
   and buy walk-up tickets, too. No reservations. That way, no one else is at   
   risk." He tried sending her a small grin. "Looks like you may have the chance   
   to knock off more of    
   the Cavalli-Sforza after all."   
      
   "Hum." Their chili, hers the vegetarian with only onions as a topping, his the   
   Texas chili mac loaded with onions, cheddar cheese, and beans piled on the   
   peppery beef, all strewn over spaghetti, had arrived. They settled in to   
   finish their meals.   
      
   --o-0-o--   
      
   X-Files East Offices   
   Washington Field Office   
   Thursday, June 18, 1998   
   2:42 pm   
      
   Cynthia set the handset back on the receiver. "Director Skinner!" She raced   
   around the dividing wall.   
      
   The bald man looked up from his notes, stacked beside the memo he was drafting.   
      
   "Sir!" She came to a stop in front of his desk, grasping the edge for balance   
   while her brunette curls flew. "Agent Mulder has a visitor, a Sandra Miller."   
      
   Skinner, now on his feet, was shrugging into his jacket. "They're still in the   
   air, Cynthia. We won't be able to contact Mulder or Scully until late tonight."   
      
   She began smoothing down her hair with both hands. "Is it her, Sir?"   
      
   He sent her a single nod. "Let's make her as welcome as we can." Skinner and   
   Cynthia returned to the front of their joint offices, but Sandra had already   
   stepped through into Mulder's space.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)