ONE

Two to Beam Down

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Author's Note:

This is set between 7x21 'Je Souhaite' and 7x22 'Requiem'. Spoilery references are made to pretty much the first seven seasons.

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DeSOTO PARISH, LOUISIANA

June 12th, 2000

4:57pm

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"They break ground tomorrow and not before," he grumped, surveying the large plant machinery parked haphazardly around the wasteland.

The woman to his left, her yellow hard hat slightly askew and her official looking VISITOR badge flapping in the soft breeze, pulled a thick notebook out of her messenger bag and flipped through to a page covered in hand-written notes. "But you've ruled they could start tonight. I'm pretty sure that's what all the works stuff is here for."

"I said they could prepare tonight. I won't be ready for them to break ground until tomorrow."

"Yes, Judge Lanoux. I'll remind the construction company to wait."

"They can get on and do whatever prep they want, but if they physically break ground before I'm ready, I'll withdraw my ruling and they can start their application all over again."

"Yes, Judge Lanoux. Understood, Judge Lanoux," she rattled off.

He turned to watch her slot her notebook back into an inside pocket of the bag, shaking his head. "When's the last time you had a day off, Sylvie?"

"I took lunch," she said to herself, even as she fished around inside for something else.

Lanoux turned back to his car. "We're done here." He walked back to the rear door and waited, his hands in his pockets.

Sylvie turned, saw him standing by the car, and jumped. She held her hard hat to her head and hurried over through the uneven grass to whisk the door open for him. He climbed in and she closed it softly before going round the car and in through the driver's door. She pulled her hat off and ran a hand through her blond hair before putting her seat belt on. "Back to the office, sir?"

"No. Take me home, Sylvie. This place gives me the creeps."

She flicked her gaze over his imposing stature, his short hair, his stocky build. "Yes, Judge Lanoux." She turned over the engine and pulled away, bouncing steadily over the grassland before finding the tarmac of a side road. Finding the road as empty as the field, she pulled out and headed for the lights of civilisation far ahead of them.

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7:32pm

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The excavator rolled over the rough ground. It lurched to a stop as someone waved their arms and shouted. Danny slammed on the brakes and yanked the excavator into the equivalent of Park. He put a hand to the edge of the windscreen and leant his head out into the night air. "What?"

The woman in the high-vis jacket and matching hard hat stomped up to the caterpillar tread by his boot. "We have to wait for the judge to see this."

"Aw the judge can bite me," Danny scoffed. "He ain't gonna know if we start tonight or tomorrow morning, Shirley."

The woman glowered at him. "If you say so, chief. On your head be it."

"Don't go getting hysterical now," Danny grinned.

Shirley folded her arms. "Well go on then - start digging. I look forward to seeing you serve a few weeks in jail for goin' against a court order."

"Will you relax!" he grinned. "What's the worst that could happen?"

He lurched the digger into gear and lowered the giant, toothed scoop. It bit into the ground and ripped it up with ease. Shirley backed up, shaking her head. Then she started back to the wooden longhut with the maps inside.

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June 13th, 2000

8:42am

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The long black car swung up to the waste ground, coming to an abrupt stop in more or less the same tyre treads as the afternoon before. Sylvie whisked out of the driver's seat and rushed round to the rear passenger door, opening it up. Judge Lanoux climbed out and surveyed the site. He gasped and ran to the large digger, currently on its side, the engine well and truly dead.

As was the driver. Lanoux grasped the edge of the windscreen in horror as he stared at what was left of Danny Petrus.

Lanoux staggered back a few steps. He bumped into Sylvie. Whirling half out of panic and half out of urgency, he grabbed her upper arms and held her still.

"Sir?" she asked, confused. "What's happened here?"

"Don't look," he warned.

Her eyes went wide. She made herself turn away. Her first instinct was to run for the longhut, and the phone inside.

She made it to the door. It swung open. As she hurried toward the dull red telephone hung on the wall her shoe caught on something. She looked down at the dead woman on the floor.

She screamed.

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WASHINGTON, D.C.

June 14th, 2000

9:16am

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"How about this one?" Scully asked. Her eyes were glued to the sheet of paper as she pulled it out of the mess on the floor. She skim-read it as she heard shuffling from under the wooden desk.

"What's it say?"

"Uh… Ameranthropoides loysi."

"Hoaxes box."

"Sure?" she asked, getting to her feet and continuing to read. "It says here—"

"Confirmed a hoax in 1922."

"If you say so, Mulder." She turned and walked to the four large cardboard boxes by the open door to the office. She dropped it in the first one. "Shouldn't you be cataloguing these by name, or something?"

"This is easier."

"What if one of your hoaxes turns out to be a real animal after all?" she asked.

There was a pause from under the desk. "I'm flattered that you think I could perpetrate so many hoaxes on so many continents, some of which were designated as such before I was born, Scully. However, I'm more blown away by your admission that you think it's possible that something everyone considers a hoax could later be proven true and real, especially something as easily debunked as a spider monkey."

She smiled and went back to the scattered papers on the floor. "Galileo was proven right eventually."

"So you're saying it's possible I'll be proven right one day."

"It's not impossible."

"Wow. If I wasn't already lying on the floor, I might have fainted."

"Well there you go - still keeping you guessing."

"Speaking of - you got caesar salad and a blueberry and raspberry smoothie."

"What?" She picked up another sheet, reading the title.

"Lunch. I took the liberty of ordering from the canteen early - they run out of the good stuff first."

"I'm flattered you thought about my lunch before I'd even got in this morning," she scoffed. "But I'm more blown away by the fact that you actually consider what I eat to be the 'good stuff', compared to what you eat."

"No, I ordered my lunch first - but I thought while I was there I'd take a stab at guessing what you'd go for."

She shook her head. "Then I'm amazed you thought of me over your 'work'," she muttered, "what with you suddenly wanting to re-organise every file you have containing cryptids."

"What?"

"I said I'm still wondering why you suddenly wanted to re-organise every file you have containing cryptids," she said, much louder.

"The fact that this will take us all day, is vital routine government business and as such overrides everything else, makes no nevermind to you, Scully?"

"All day? But we've got the monthly figures briefing at ten, and we have to attend the new safety seminar at two."

"As I said, this takes precedence." He paused. "You're welcome."

She stood up and carried two pages to the box marked 'hoax'. "Then thank you. One more safety seminar asking if I know how many inline safeties are on my issued Glock and I'll punch someone." She looked down at a box. "Nessie and the Ogopogo - going in," she announced.

"Woah - which one?"

"Well hoaxes, obviously."

"No no no - unconfirmed true."

"What?"

"Until someone comes forward and waves their hands in the air saying 'I'm responsible for all the media and evidence surrounding these cases' they go in the unconfirmed true box."

Her mouth squirrelled to one side. She looked across the office at the black shoes sticking out beyond the right-hand edge of the desk. "Mulder, what are you doing? Installing a secret drawer?"

"Nothing so clandestine. The bottom drawer is stuck."

"Then call Maintenance."

"I can't call Maintenance."

"Afraid they'll laugh in your manly face for failing to do a manly job like freeing a drawer from a runner?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"They're out all day at their own safety seminar."

"Oh," she said, her face dropping.

"That and… they'll laugh in my manly face for failing to do a manly job like freeing a drawer from a runner."

She put the two sheets in the box marked 'Unconfirmed True' and wandered over. Pulling off her suit jacket and leaving it on the desk, she crouched down to look under. She found Mulder sprawled on his back, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the end of his loosened tie tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt. He had both hands in the back of the drawer carriage unit immediately above his head. "How can it be stuck?" she asked. "Wait - if this is somehow connected to your stash of porn tapes, I don't want to know."

"I don't have a stash of porn tapes any more," he snorted.

"Really?"

"Really." He shifted his head to look at her. "They're DVDs now."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, out of the way, manly man. Let me have a look."

He made his hands fall but before he could shuffle out, she had dropped to her front and squirmed in as if elbowing her way through mud, army training style. She poked her head round the rear of the unit and then drew back to push her hand in instead. "What is this… stuck in the runner?" she breathed to herself. She paused as she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Her eyes slid to the right to find Mulder grinning at her. "What?"

"I always suspected you were more manly than me anyway."

"Shut up," she smiled. Her fingers worked away and then she raised her eyebrows. "Ok… push the drawer in very slowly."

"Aye aye cap'n." He kept flat on the floor but his left hand went under the unit to allow his elbow to bend up the front. He slid the open drawer back toward him.

"There, see?" she said with a smug smile.

"You've just got smaller fingers," he said defensively.

She jumped. "Ow! Stop!"

"Are you ok?"

"My finger's caught between the drawer and the sidewall."

"Ok hang on."

The drawer moved out again. "Mulder! Stop! That's making it worse."

They heard a sharp wooden banging and paused. They looked at each other. "Was that you?" he asked.

"Don't be ridiculous. Pull the drawer out."

"Are you sure you want me to—"

"Pull it out, Mulder!" she cried. "Pull it out now!" The drawer moved. "No! Wait! Stop!" she gasped. "Push it in - carefully!"

"Agents?" came a very unimpressed voice. "Is this a bad time?"

Mulder and Scully's eyes threw their reactions at each other. Annoyance went one way, haplessness the other.

"Don't go anywhere," he said. She slapped at his shoulder as he pushed himself out and got to his knees to pop his head over the desk. "Hello?" he asked. "Oh. Good morning."

Assistant Director Skinner was standing in the doorway, his hands on his hips in what could only be described as exasperation. "And what is this?"

"We're just - uh - filing," Mulder said. He resisted the urge to let his eyes go to the scattered papers all over the floor.

"Riiiiiiiight," Skinner said sarcastically.

"Mulder, get back here right now and get me out of this thing, or so help me I will set fire to your precious files," came an irritated voice from under the desk.

Skinner's eyebrows raised. "If you can tear yourself away, I need to see you both in my office."

"Something urgent?" Mulder asked.

"Take a wild guess."

Mulder nodded. "We'll be five minutes." He leant back and looked under the desk. "Five minutes?"

"Speak for yourself," Scully grumped. "I might need longer."

Mulder looked back over the desk.

Skinner was already halfway out of the door. "Whatever you're doing - and I don't want to know what that might be - do it faster." He whisked out of the exit.

Mulder put his hands on his hips and frowned at the empty space. Until he felt a knee thump into his. "Ow!"

"Then help me get free."

"Alright, just calm down."

"You and your damn drawers. You owe me more than lunch for this, Mulder."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Ok, ready? Wait - how do you want it, Scully? In or out?"

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9:38am

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Skinner looked up from the long meeting table at the sound of heavy knocking. "Come in," he called.

The door opened and Mulder poked his head around. "You wanted to see us, sir?"

"Have a seat, agents," he intoned.

Mulder went in, leaving the door open for Scully. She closed it behind herself and followed Mulder to the table. She was already seated before he pulled the chair out next to her, getting comfortable in a way that suggested he was no more interested in the impromptu meeting than he was the weather outside.

"Why was your phone off the hook, Agent Mulder?" Skinner asked directly.

Mulder's mouth opened. Scully turned to look at him in mild surprise. Mulder shrugged. "I didn't realise it was, sir. I must have knocked it trying to fix my drawer."

"Fix your drawer," Skinner echoed with absolute and condemning judgement. "Is that how you fill your days when you should be attending important meetings and safety seminars?"

Scully cleared her throat. "We were cataloguing, sir. It is pretty high on our given list of priorities."

Skinner eyed her for a long moment. "Cataloguing what, exactly?"

"X Files, sir," she said. "Long overdue."

"Sir, why have we been called here?" Mulder asked.

Skinner sat forward. "This," he said, tossing a brown file in front of Scully. She opened it up and began to read. "Two nights ago two construction workers were killed in Mansfield, DeSoto Parish, in Louisiana. They were starting work on wasteland, about to turn it into a couple of new apartment blocks."

"And why is that a matter for the FBI?" Mulder asked.

"Scully?" Skinner prompted.

She scrutinised the photographs in the file. "The driver of the excavator, one… Daniel Petrus… was found on his back, looking like his limbs had been pinned down by something heavy and/or sharp. Deep lacerations from… him trying to fight free."

Mulder gave the barest sniff. "What killed him?"

"Whatever it was took out his entire intestinal tract and stomach," she mused.

"Like a surgeon?"

"Like… it was torn away." She looked up. "Mulder, this may be an animal attack."

"Then hand it to Fish and Wildlife," he shrugged. "I don't see why we're here, sir," he added to Skinner.

Skinner drew himself up in his chair, lacing his hands and leaning them on the table. "The parish sheriff's office is denying it's a political crime, due to the ground they were using, but locals are not listening. Now we have a branch office down there but they're not equipped to deal with this. I want you two to head down there and solve this thing yesterday."

Mulder put his elbow on the table and lifted his index finger. "Please sir, may I be excused? My time machine is broken."

Skinner glared at him so hard it was a wonder his own glasses didn't shatter. Mulder cleared his throat and took his elbow off the desk.

"I think what Agent Mulder means to ask is why this particular case is being given to us, sir," Scully put in. "There are plenty of agents in the bureau who could do a very thorough—"

"A local judge - a pillar of the community down there - had just cleared some land to be redeveloped," Skinner interrupted. "There was a lot of debate over the decision to let them build on it, but what with the ridiculous amount of damage still not cleared up after the last hurricane, it was felt that it was time to start building residences, and fast." He paused. "What we need here are two experienced agents who understand how dangerous sensitive information can be in the wrong hands. What I want is for you two to pursue this murder case in your own discreet ways. Like I said, we need this solved and the guilty party arrested as soon as possible. I figure the best way to do that is to let you two loose and see what you turn up from two different angles."

"When do we leave?" Mulder asked.

Skinner looked at Scully. "Do you have any further questions?"

"Do we have full access to bureau support, sir?" she asked.

"Anything you need. I'll have copies of everything we've got so far ready for you at the airport. You can read up on the plane. All our labs and departments are on the phone if you need them."

"We'll be ready, sir," she nodded.

"Then go. Catch me a murderer before this goes from headline of the day to riot of the year."

"Understood, sir," she said. The agents stood and filed out.

Skinner watched them leave. He was unsurprised to see Mulder was the last one, shutting the door behind him. He got up and went straight back to his own desk. He sat, took off his glasses, and wiped his hands over his face. Slowly.

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DULLES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, WASHINGTON D.C.

1:35pm (Eastern time)

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"I'm just saying, winding Skinner up does not accomplish anything," Scully said as they walked through the airport.

"I think it's interesting that he's put us on the case. It's a normal murder; anyone could go down there and do this."

"You heard him - he wants us to take care of it quickly."

"Yeah - I heard him say he wants to let us loose and see what we turn up." He paused. "I think he thinks it's an X File."

"I wonder what this branch office will be like," she mused.

"Well he said it wasn't equipped for this - maybe it's an office in the basement with no power, crappy posters on the walls and pencils stuck in the ceiling."

She glanced up at him. He just ambled toward the boarding gate as if he had all the time in the world. She frowned. "Mulder, whoever we meet there, be nice to them. It's just a field office - they're not there to baffle you with conspiracies. And don't tell them what you think really murdered those construction workers."

"What do I think really murdered those construction workers?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Knowing you? It could be the Jersey Devil."

"Don't be ridiculous Scully," he grinned. "It's never been seen in Louisiana."

"Get on the plane, Mulder."

"Yes, Scully."

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DeSOTO PARISH, LOUISIANA

4:28pm (Central time)

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Agent McGivers put down her pen, closing the report cover slowly. She ran her hand over the cover, pressing the sheets of paper down as she savoured the feel of the hard surface.

The phone on the desk blared with an abrupt demand for attention. She picked up the receiver. "DeSoto Branch, Louisiana - this is Agent McGivers," she said immediately. "Yes, sir. Two agents, sir?" She listened for a long moment. "Oh! They're coming here? It's really them?" Her mouth hung open until something said down the line made it snap shut in alarm. She swallowed. "Yes sir, I'll deal with them myself." She looked at her watch quickly. "Everything will be ready, sir." She put the phone receiver back in its cradle and sat back in her chair.

For a few minutes her eyes saw nothing. Then she let her head tilt as she considered the office, with its rows and rows of shelves, the immaculate filing, the paper-protective air-con. She got up, straightened out her regulation pencil skirt, and went to a set of drawers by the door. Opening it up revealed a tidy stack of unused brown report books, still in the plastic wrapping. She slipped one out and smiled at the thought of the unspoilt pages inside. Knocking the drawer shut with her hip, she walked back to her desk, sat primly, and pulled the chair back up to the edge of the table. She studied the three pens in her desk tidy very carefully until she chose the one with the most ink. Then she pulled the new report book toward her, and in a graceful, flowing hand, wrote 'Experiment 379' on the cover.

She flipped it open, paused to bend down and breathe in the scent of new paper, and then raised the pen.

"A new day, a new case," she breathed. "Agent… Dana… Scully," she whispered to herself as she wrote. "And… the… partner, Agent… Fox… Mulder." She put the pen down and admired her handiwork. Then she slapped her hands together and squealed very softly. "I've been waiting for this for such a long time," she gushed.

And then her smile died a tragic, lonely death, as she realised just what their arrival would herald.

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I've wanted to write one of these for 20 years... Here we go!