Chapter 1: Messages
Beneath the FBI building in Washington DC, in the basement office belonging to the department known as the X Files, a shadow moved in the darkness. Had anybody been there to see, they would have seen nothing but the computer – apparently – turning itself on. The mouse moved on the mat – apparently – of it’s own violition. Keys depressed and words appeared on the screen as if typed by invisible fingers.
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At the exact same time, a knock sounded on the door of Fox Mulder’s apartment. He stopped the video tape he’d been watching and went to answer it. The woman standing in the hallway was not pretty, she wasn’t skinny and she wasn’t tall, but she had something which caused Mulder’s body to tense at the sight of her. Light brown hair fell in unruly waves halfway down her back and midnight blue eyes lingered as they looked him over. She smiled.
“Fox Mulder.” She said in a distinctly English accent. His brow creased, she was vaguely familiar but he did not recognise her.
“Do I know you?” He asked.
“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” She replied silkily. “Elizabeth Szabo.” She informed him.
“Elizabeth!” He said in surprise. He directed her inside.
“It’s been a few years, hasn’t it Fox?” She answered as she walked to the couch and sat down. Mulder leant against the wall.
“Nearly ten.” He acknowledged. “How’s Alex?”
“You’d know yourself if you’d kept in touch.” She said accusingly. Mulder looked sheepish.
“I’m not much of a correspondent.”
“Ever heard of the telephone?” She asked lightly, smiling to make it obvious that there were no hard feelings. Mulder smiled in response.
“How old were you last time I saw you?” He asked, changing direction.
“It was ‘86, so I’d have been eleven, I guess. I’ve changed since then.” Mulder took her tone to mean that it was inevitable that she’d changed, grown up, but he wasn’t to know that was not what she meant. Images flashed through her mind like wildfire – a light in the woods, shifting smoke from thin and wavering candle flames, piercing screams, the crash of breaking glass – but her expression remained passive.
“What are you doing here?” Mulder asked her.
“I thought that it was time to come to you and have you fulfil your promise.” The words were spoken softly and they cut through Mulder. He remembered the last day he’d seen her, the day before he left England. Her brother – Alex – had gone into the kitchen to get drinks for them and she had scooted over to sit next to him with the enthusiasm of the child that she had been. She had looked up at him seriously with those mysterious midnight blue eyes and made him promise that when she was grown up they would be lovers. It had shocked him – after all she was only eleven and he’d only recently broken up with Phoebe – but she had been so intent that he had smiled down at her and agreed that they would. Now she sat here in front of him, expecting him to fulfil that long-ago throwaway statement. The most ridiculous thing was that he wanted to. He watched as she stood up and walked over to him. He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her.
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The Next Day
Dana Scully opened the door of Mulder’s basement office and went inside. The lights were out but the computer was on.
“Mulder?” She called, but there was no answer and he was no where to be seen. Scully crossed to the computer curiously. A UFO screensaver curled across the screen – Scully smiled affectionately – and reached out to touch the keyboard to clear it. Her hand had not touched the keys when she saw them depress of their own violition. She jumped in shock, and fought a brief internal battle in which her sceptical mind came up with natural solutions for what had happened. She dismissed it as the atmosphere of the claustrophobic office getting to her and concentrated on the screen. A word processing package was open and three words were written across the screen: ‘Don’t trust her’. As she watched in horror, the keys depressed once again and wrote: ‘Tell Mulder’. Scully gasped as the lights came on.
“Scully, what are you doing?” Mulder stood in the doorway with his hand on the light switch.
“Take a look at this.” She said, gesturing to the screen. Mulder walked over and Scully noticed that he didn’t stand close to her in the way he usually did. As he leaned forward she noticed the mark on his neck. A love bite. Her heart plummeted for a moment, then she chastised herself. It was none of her business how he spent his evenings.
“What am I supposed to be seeing?” Mulder asked and Scully’s eyes flew to the screen. The word processor was open but the words were gone.
“There was writing on the screen. I came in and it was just there.” Mulder just *looked* at her. “It was right there!” She insisted.
“There’s nothing there now.” He replied silkily and Scully was outraged by his amused expression.
“Well there was!” She told him angrily.
“Calm down Scully. I wasn’t….” His tone was placatory.
“Forget it.” She cut in dismissively.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She said defensively. Their eyes met; his concerned, hers defiant.
“Are you? Come on, what is it?” He asked gently and reached out to touch her arm but she pulled away from him.
“Just leave it Mulder.” She said dismissively, looking away from him.
“Fine.” Mulder said flatly, turning away from her. Scully’s eyes flew to his turned back.
“Fine.” She replied stonily and walked out of the office. Mulder turned back in time to watch her leaving the room.
“Great!” He said under his breath and return his gaze to the computer screen. There was still nothing there. His brow creased in confusion for a moment. Something was wrong with Scully and she apparently had no intention of letting him in. As usual. He sighed and a thought occurred to him. He moved the mouse to the pull down edit menu. The undo function was disabled. There hadn’t been any writing there.
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Scully rapped hard on the door of Mulder’s apartment. This morning’s conversation had been ridiculous and she wanted to patch things up. A young woman answered the door. <So this is who he was with last night> Scully tried to convince herself that she was not jealous.
“Hello?” She began, inclining her head. “I’m looking for Mulder.” The woman looked bored. When she spoke it was in an English accent.
“He’s not here.” She slammed the door in Scully’s shocked face.
“Mulder, you have great taste in woman.” Scully murmured under her breath and knocked again.
“Yes?” This time the tone was impatient.
“I don’t think you understand. I’m Mulder’s partner, Dana Scully.”
“So? He’s not here.” She slammed the door again.
Scully made an exasperated sound and gave up. She began walking down the corridor, but stopped suddenly as the message on the computer screen came back to her. ‘Don’t trust her – tell Mulder’ What if it meant *that* woman? The Bitch-Queen From Hell, Scully nicknamed her in her mind. Scully walked off down the corridor with her mind made up to find out who had left that message.
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“Who was at the door?” Mulder asked, coming out of the bathroom. Elizabeth smiled when she saw him. In her mind’s eye she saw him surrounded by fire. The image faded.
“Just someone trying to sell something.” She replied casually and put her arms around his waist. “Why, were you expecting someone?” He put his arms around her and kissed her. He lifted his head and looked perplexed towards the door.
“I just thought it might be Scully.” He said with more feeling than Elizabeth liked. She slid out of his arms.
“Tell me about this partner of yours.” Mulder shrugged.
“There’s not much to tell. She’s intelligent and committed.” He gave a wry laugh. “She can be a complete bitch,” He gave a small sigh. “But I wouldn’t want to work with anyone else.”
“She means a lot to you.” Elizabeth interjected thoughtfully and Mulder smiled.
“Yeah, she does. I’d have been dead long ago if it wasn’t for her.”
“So I should be grateful to her, rather than jealous.”
“You were jealous?” He mocked gently. Their eyes met full of laughter.
“Do I have reason to be?”
“No.” Mulder lied. He walked over to her and kissed her.
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Scully slumped down onto the couch and pushed a stray strand of damp hair back behind her ear. Her ponytail was working it’s way loose anyway, so she pulled the band out and let it fall in messy waves around her head. She’d been so angry at that woman that even her regular run hadn’t worked the aggression off. Now she just felt sweaty, drained and totally unattractive. She must be in a bad way if even Mulder had a better sex life than she did. She let her head loll back against the couch for a moment, then forced herself to stand up. She headed for the bathroom, stripping clothes as she went.
The long, hot shower revitalised her. She put her head against the tiles and let the water cascade over her body. She turned off the shower and pushed the tendrils of wet hair out of her eyes. She climbed out of the shower and wrapped a large bath towel around herself. Then she looked up into the mirror and gasped. Written in the condensation were the same words that had been on the computer screen: “Don’t trust her – tell Mulder.” The second part of the message had been double underlined. Someone had to have snuck in and written this. The thought chilled her. Wrapping the towel tightly around her, Scully moved to the bathroom door. It was as she’d left it; locked from the *inside*. She opened it and went out. She walked cautiously through her apartment and checked all the rooms but there was no one. Finnally she returned to the bathroom. There was nothing on the mirror but condensation. Scully reached out and wiped her hand across the glass to clear the misting layer of water. A shadow seemed to pass across her hand and she shivered. She immediately chastised herself.
“I’ve been around Mulder *too* long.” She murmured. A loud crash sounded in the front room and Scully jumped. Cautiously she left the room and slipped into her bedroom, noting on the way that the apartment door was undamaged. She went to the drawer where she kept her gun and she stepped back out into the hall. She inched along the wall, flattening herself and taking a deep breath before turning to step out into the main room.
“Freeze.” She said loudly, pointing the gun at the room in general. There was no one there. The coffee table had been over turned – the cause of the sound – but beyond that the room showed no signs of disturbance. The window was intact. Scully didn’t lower the gun until she was sure that there was no one there. Images of Duane Barry were alive in her head. Finnally she dropped the gun to her side – but did not put it down – and fell to her knees by the over turned coffee table. She’d placed her purse on the table when she’d come in and now it’s contents were scattered across the floor. Scully’s eyes widened in shock. She blinked to clear her vision but the image still remained. In the broken shards of her compact mirror she saw a face. The face of the woman who had been in Mulder’s apartment. The eyes of the image seemed alive and pleading with her. Scully blinked again and re-focused. It was just a mirror; no face and it wasn’t broken. Scully looked away and rubbed her head. She was really losing it.
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FBI Headquarters
Parking level
“Are you okay Scully?” Mulder asked putting a hand on Scully’s arm. She jumped.
“I’m fine.” She replied, more harshly than she’d intended. “Fine.” She repeated more quietly and returned to staring out of the car window. Mulder looked at her in concern. She’d seemed distracted all day and had spent the entire journey back to FBI headquarters gazing at nothing, not saying a word. He turned the car engine off, wondering what he’d done this time to get so pissed at him.
Scully stared unfocused the bland concrete of the parking level until a flash across the wing mirror caught her attention. She gasped as she saw the face of the woman in the refracting shards of the broken mirror. Mulder’s arm was immediately around her.
“What’s wrong?” He demanded. Scully’s breath came in short bursts.
“The mirror.” She gasped.
“What about the mirror?” Mulder asked gently, glancing up at it then back at Scully. She closed her eyes and pulled herself together. He almost smiled when he saw the strength of will in the action. Her eyes opened.
“I saw a face.” She said calmly. “The face of the woman in your apartment.” Mulder’s brow creased.
“Woman in *my* apartment?”
“I went round there yesterday and there was a woman there.”
“That must have been Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth?” Scully queried. Mulder smiled sheepishly.
“Yeah. She’s the little sister of an old school friend.”
“From England?”
“We were at Oxford together. Their family was always a good place to hide out from Phoebe.” He answered mockingly.
“But you are sleeping with her.” Scully said and Mulder reacted with a chilled remoteness that hit Scully like a blast wave.
“Is that somehow relevant?” He asked as he moved away from her.
“You’re not denying it?”
“Why should I?” He said flatly. Scully reached out and touched his hand. He turned to her and his expression warmed when he saw the emotion in her eyes.
“This is gonna sound weirder than one of your theories Mulder and I’m not altogether *sure* that I believe it, but I’ve been getting.. messages.”
“Messages Scully?” He was curious.
“Yeah.” She took a moment to form her words carefully. “I keep seeing warnings.” She formed the word carefully. “Don’t trust her. Tell Mulder.”
“Don’t trust who?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” Scully replied looking at her hands.
“Is that what you saw on the computer screen the other day?”
“That was the first time.” She nodded.
“Where else have you seen it?” Scully gave a broken laugh.
“In the condensation on my bathroom mirror. Spray paint on the side of a building. On the screen of my cell-phone.” She shrugged. “A dozen other places.”
“Does anyone else see them?”
“They don’t seem to.” She smiled bitterly.
“Have you seen this ‘face’ anywhere else?”
“It’s always in mirrors.” She looked up at him. “I’ve felt like I’m going mad Mulder.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I didn’t believe what I was seeing.” Mulder smiled affectionately and touched her hand.
“And you do believe it now?” He asked and she shook her head.
“I just want it to stop.”
The orange glow from the parking level lights gleamed in the unbroken glass of the wing mirror.
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Mulder’s Apartment
Elizabeth closed her eyes and began walking around the apartment. She didn’t bump into anything. She stopped suddenly and opened her eyes. She was standing in the bathroom, facing the mirror. For a moment there was no reflection there but the image of her faded in slowly. The figure in the mirror did not seem like a reflection. She moved at different times and had a trapped air about her. The Elizabeth on the real side of the mirror smiled. The two sets of eyes locked: one frightened, the other calm. Something passed between them which shook the air. The Elizabeth in the bathroom looked away first, with a triumphant smile on her face.
“Dana Scully.” She said quietly.