Yay! First X-Files story! I am terribly sorry still about my Fringe fics, which seem to have disappeared in the dark recesses of my brain instead of continuing, but I DO have some more chapters that are almost finished on those, so that's good news.
Anyway...this was just an idea (as all good stories once were) and I'm not sure where it is going to take me. And you know what? Following the advice of a new foudn friend, I actually did some research for my story! The Willard InterContinental does exist and has the most inspiring ballroom (although I fabricated the mysterious room, but hey, artistic license here...). Well...enjoy!
--
Instruments of Darkness
--
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray's
In deepest consequence
Macbeth; Act I, Scene iii
--
University of Maryland
June 2
7:07 PM
--
A breeze, so wet and heavy it could hardly be called a breeze, rambled desperately across through the University of Maryland. Nearly sending them on a tumbleweed-like journey across the red-bricked campus, it badgered the rare pedestrian relentlessly and warned of a forthcoming summer storm.
Darting from her vehicle, the blonde-haired occupant of the worn, metallic highlander attempted, though unsuccessfully, to briskly dodge the thick drops of water now falling from the sky. Her destination was the hall a few soggy yards away, a tall, bricked building identical to those surrounding. The young woman had a killer headache and the books, though few, she held in her hand got wetter by the second. Her socks and sandals choice of footwear wasn't faring well in the rapidly swelling puddles either.
The girl reached the door in a matter of seconds and fumbled around for her keycard, accidentally dropping her uneaten apple from lunch in the process. Swearing, she bent to pick it up, but while she managed to hang onto her load of textbooks, a long blue earring slipped out of her ear and fell among the water at her feet. The apple was forgotten as she tried to locate the jewelry in the grey-blue light of dusk. The piece was retrieved, the girl collected herself and the locked entrance to the dorm was hastily clicked open.
Before the door could even shut and the head of long blonde hair disappear out of sight, lightning flashed. The college student had left outside seemingly nothing but a storm brewing to its extreme. The rain pounded down, recoating the ground with wet, but the wind tussled something else down the concrete steps.
Then, from inside the building, a scream echoed out across the dark courtyard. Lightening flashed again, illuminating the apple that gently rolled into the night.
--
Willard InterContinental Ballroom, District of Columbia
June 9
9:42 PM
--
Dana Scully, against all odds, found herself smiling even wider than Fox Mulder. Grinning like a school girl, she watched her cohort dart up to the carefully situated podium and survey the audience with a very Mulder air of self-enlightened confidence.
Tonight, however, this aura was rather misleading. Inside, Mulder was asking himself the questions normally asked by the now smiling Scully. Disbelieving that the show the bureau had laid out for him could bring any good, he seemed the one more grounded in the reality of the questionable circumstances. It was to be a night of celebration, a night honoring him, but as he scanned the sea of colorful faces he spotted few friends. At this commencement, his enemies were just as much at hand.
He had meant to inform Scully of his suspicions, but she had been so thrilled it would've broken her heart. Indeed, Scully had been her polite, sensible self all evening, but, as the hour at hand drew nearer, Mulder had noticed her becoming excited, nervous even. Every greeting or manner of dutiful conversation was soon accompanied by an over-zealous smile and exclamation. He spared the time to glance over at her now.
She stood against the far wall in her black velvet dress and beamed even wider as they made eye contact. Mulder couldn't bring himself to enhance his smile; it would betray the grimace it disguised. She was so happy for him, but Mulder knew the truth as to what the night was to reveal.
It was such thoughts that caused him to glance to the other corner of the room. The occupant of the space stood tensely, gazing at Mulder half-heartedly but with an intent so scouring it felt to Mulder as if it literally bore right through him.
I know why you're such a confident cock tonight, he thought fiercely, just to counter the stare, and you know I know.
A hint of truth crept into his forced smile. Then again, that still means I know.
If the man in the corner could read Mulder's thoughts, he gave no sign of it and instead took another puff from his cigarette.
Mulder steadily took in the crowd, careful not to make eye contact with Scully again, for his insides were flip-flopping already and it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge. The anxiety in the air suffocated. The room was eager to hear what Mulder had to say, but the Agent had not expected them to let him stay this far into the night and subsequently had not planned speech of any kind. Nonetheless, he only choice at the moment was to lean forward to the microphone.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, rather coldly, "I want to thank you all for being here tonight and I would especially like to thank the Bureau for allowing such an event to even happen."
Scully, still in her corner, felt her smile begin to fade. Something was wrong with Mulder; she could see it. And she definitely didn't like the direction this acceptance speech was taking.
"I realize that it is difficult for many of to understand or even pretend to understand the methods, theories and ideologies I employ when working with my special cases."
Come on, Mulder. They're honoring you; don't rat them out, not tonight. Scully watched her partner with a new found concern.
"But tonight I realize that some of you do understand and even respect my work."
Scully smiled. Good boy, Mulder. Don't bite the hand that feeds you.
Mulder flashed his concealing grimace again. Bullshit. I am speaking complete and utter bullshit.
"Thank you, once more. I do hope the bureau continues to recognize my efforts to explain the inexplicable in the future."
Scully shifted her weight and pretended to look down and adjust her dress. Why is Mulder acting so oddly? He was fine all this evening, but now… She looked up at him again. He was just given a chance to speak, to speak what he wanted to say and Fox Mulder kept quiet and to a minimum. Mulder had acted how she would've acted and that was what scared her.
She realized that her fears were not without reason. Two uniformed officers had appeared up front. One pushed Mulder briskly out of the way and stepped to the microphone.
"We're terribly sorry to interrupt, but have some business to discuss with Agent Mulder."
Business, my ass, Mulder thought. And so it begins…
The handcuff that appeared in sight hit Scully like a blow to the gut. Panic seized her; she had to get to her to her partner.
Even before half the guests had realized what was happening, the woman was already fighting with all her willpower to make it across the crowded room. The gilded hall was colossal and Scully was nothing more than a little red-headed ant threading her way through miles of black tuxedos and sequined gowns. She cursed herself for not standing closer.
Still at the podium she could see Mulder, calm as he was handcuffed by one of the officers. Perhaps it was the confusion, but Scully's brain couldn't figure out why he wasn't as alarmed as her.
The men were already beginning to lead her partner away, to a gold plated door to the side. What scared her even more was that she had thought she knew everything about the venue, but had neglected to note the door. What lay beyond was as unknown to her as the reasons for Mulder's sudden detention.
But someone did not want her to reach that door. Scully was halfway through the mass when she found herself landing painfully on the floor, seemingly having tripped over her own feet. It's fine, Scully, she told herself, just get up again and find him. It isn't like anybody purposely…a hasty look behind her revealed a three inch long tear in the back seam of her dress, only feeding the fear growing inside her.
But the perpetrator was nowhere in sight. The elderly couple she had plowed through were kindly helping her to feet, or rather, attempting. Scully, while not dismissing them outright, still refused their help, rapidly standing on her own instead.
Scully was close enough now that she could not see Mulder above the heads of the people. Knowing she would probably regret screwing with her composure, but figuring that enough damage had already been done, Scully hiked up her ruined skirt above her knees and began to sprint.
--
Mulder had witnessed most of his partner's trek to him, but he had made no motion to help her. She will understand…eventually. The deal had to be made.
Still, prepared as he was, when he saw Scully tripped, he felt a certain rage rise within him. He had thought he had made it clear that she was not to be harmed. But there was nothing to be done about it now. Although every natural instinct left in Mulder told him to rush over and explain every last reason behind his actions, to soothe her and make her see the situation as clearly as he did, all he would let himself partake of was one quick, final glance. A rough hand grasped his shoulder soon enough and turned him away, urging the man forward through the door into a small antechamber.
Once in the room, the officers briskly left Mulder's side, leaving him standing there alone. As he look around slowly, he smiled his all-knowing grimace.
"Hello, boys."