Disclaimer: I own Nahhhhthing.
May 1, 2003. Whitehorse, Alaska. 9:00 P.M.
A woman ran through the shadows, past vans, and finally stopped behind a train car. Dressed in complete black, she looked nervous. And cold. Very cold. Her long hair would have formed into icicles had it been raining. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, waiting for the person on the other end to pick up.
"Garaguso."
"Garaguso?" She shot around a suspicious glance. "It's me."
The man sounded concerned. "Where the heck are you?"
"Whitehorse, Alaska."
"Alaska!?"
"Yeah. Didn't you get my note?" It was her turn to sound concerned.
"NO."
She heaved a worried sigh, still looking around, making sure she was alone.
"Gosh. I left a note with Assistant Director Skinner? He said.....He said he'd give you the note when you got in!"
"He didn't."
"Darn. Listen, I got some new information. You won't believe it. That terrorist group? Threatening to release a black-substance of doom? I know what it is. And I know who they are and where they are now."
"Whitehorse, Alaska?"
"Yeah."
"What is this substance?"
"I'm not gonna say incase I'm not over a secure line. But I need back up. Heavens. How soon can you get down here?"
"The first flight out."
"Hurry. Anyone out here is in endanger, especially alone. And they've taken hostages. 20."
"Stay put, and lay low. I'll be up there as soon as I can. Be careful. You can always turn to the field office for help."
Federico turned, a nervous look glazing her eyes.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"The terrorists.....?.....They ARE the field office."
One Week Earlier......
Federico sat in her office, holding a freshly sharpened pencil. She looked at it, and hesitated, then she flung it up into the ceiling, and dodged it narrowly as it came crashing back down.
"OOooo," Mulder exclaimed, "That was close, real close. Too much force, though, keep trying."
Another one flew. Crashed down before getting halfway to the ceiling.
"Oh, that was bad." Mulder shunned.
"Hey, I don't get the type of time to lie around and throw pencils at my office ceiling. Apparently, I have something called work?"
"Touché."
Federico flung the pencils, eyes-closed, desperate.
"Hey-hey! Looks like we have a winner!"
Federico opened her eyes and laughed sheepishly. "Hey, Garaguso."
Scully stepped in behind him. "Mulder corrupting you? Defacing FBI property again?"
"Oh, Scully. Its completely different." Mulder stated, in a whiny-tone. "This isn't defacing. This is art." He flung up on last pencil, forming the letters, "FBI."
"Oh, boy." Scully sighed, then continued. "You guys ready to leave?"
"Yeah."
"I think I left my coat downstairs."
"I'll come with you, Mulder." Scully offered.
Garaguso shuffled over to his desk and turned off the computer. Federico was putting a last few files in order.
"Oh. Garaguso? Remember a while back, that substance-of-doom thing?"
"Yeah. We never got much of a lead and had to quite it, we presumed it a false tip."
"Yeah, that one. I got some information, I think its credible."
"Who from?"
"Anonymous source. But apparently, Mulder's received good tips from this pseudonym before."
"Let's have a look."
Garaguso reviewed the file.
"Well, its worth checking into. At least this guy uses spell check, I mean, that's a good sign."
Federico smiled, putting the file aside.
"We're ready," Mulder called from the hallway. The four were going out for a Friday-night drink at a local club. They'd invited Skinner, but he claimed to have paperwork. Mulder speculated he was just intimidated by his awesome intelligence. Scully told him to keep telling himself that. To everyone's fear, he took her up on it.
Out at the club, Mulder pulled the other 3 reluctant agents to the dance- floor. Eventually, Federico got a little too wrapped up in their own little worlds. Scully and Garaguso kinda skulked off, pretending they didn't know them.
April 26, 2003 FBI Headquarters 12:00 P.M.
Federico wandered into Mulder and Scully's office around noon, a sorrowful look upon her face.
"Bad day?" Mulder never even looked up.
"You could say that," she responded, cracking her neck.
"Whatchya' working on?"
"Black Substance Of Doom."
"I told you to lay off those cigarettes, Federico."
She laughed, and flipped through Scully's wildlife-calendar. Thanks to Federico, Scully was now officially a member of Save the Wildlife Foundation.....and Green peace......And World Wildlife Foundation....and.....
"What ARE you working on?" Scully inquired, putting aside her autopsy report.
"Black Substance of Doom," she repeated. "That's what this terrorist is calling it, saying they're gonna take over the world with it."
"Any theories?"
"Major sleep deprivation or serious jetlag. I wish I was enthralled in the case, but we've got a bunch of mismatched leads, I mean, we don't even know where these guys are!"
"Well, keep on trying. Have faith," Mulder muttered, still never turning his attention from his computer.
"Really, I WANT to believe," she eyed the poster behind him subconsciously, "But I can't. You try taking the black substance of doom seriously!"
Silence. Scully frowned, trying to think of something to help, Mulder continued to stare at the monitor.
"What are you looking at anyway?" Federico asked, her Sicilian temper becoming aggravated.
She leaned over his shoulder to see as he responded, still muttering nonchalantly, "Some Serious Free Cell."
Scully and Federico reached over to slap him at the same time.
"Hey!"
Federico cracked her back again walking up the stairs to her apartment. The keys jingled in her door, and she flopped down on the couch. Darn the 22% body-fat requirements. She wanted Entimen's.
She flipped around some stations on TV. Fox News channel.
"Spiff." Apparently the news had gotten hold of what was supposed to be Garaguso and Federico's private case.
"Garaguso."
"Hey. Have you turned on the news?"
"No. Why?"
"Fox News. Now."
Garaguso flipped the stations. "Ohhhhhh-----"
"Let's keep this censored."
"How'd the media.....?"
"I wish I knew. You haven't been talkin' to Kerch again, 'ave ya'?"
"I wouldn't touch the man with a ten-foot pole."
"Well that's reassuring. Watch out, he could fire you due to some 'serious allegations' and being 'way outta line' for saying that."
"How'd he know?"
"Wire taped."
There was a pause.
"Well, how do we tone this down?"
"I don't know, Garaguso, but let's quiet the media before this is mentioned in Bush's next State of the Union Address."
Click.
Federico and Garaguso had picked up the nasty habit of just hanging up. Darn Mulder. Scully was right. Poor Federico was being corrupted.
May 1, 2003. Whitehorse, Alaska. 9:00 P.M.
A woman ran through the shadows, past vans, and finally stopped behind a train car. Dressed in complete black, she looked nervous. And cold. Very cold. Her long hair would have formed into icicles had it been raining. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, waiting for the person on the other end to pick up.
"Garaguso."
"Garaguso?" She shot around a suspicious glance. "It's me."
The man sounded concerned. "Where the heck are you?"
"Whitehorse, Alaska."
"Alaska!?"
"Yeah. Didn't you get my note?" It was her turn to sound concerned.
"NO."
She heaved a worried sigh, still looking around, making sure she was alone.
"Gosh. I left a note with Assistant Director Skinner? He said.....He said he'd give you the note when you got in!"
"He didn't."
"Darn. Listen, I got some new information. You won't believe it. That terrorist group? Threatening to release a black-substance of doom? I know what it is. And I know who they are and where they are now."
"Whitehorse, Alaska?"
"Yeah."
"What is this substance?"
"I'm not gonna say incase I'm not over a secure line. But I need back up. Heavens. How soon can you get down here?"
"The first flight out."
"Hurry. Anyone out here is in endanger, especially alone. And they've taken hostages. 20."
"Stay put, and lay low. I'll be up there as soon as I can. Be careful. You can always turn to the field office for help."
Federico turned, a nervous look glazing her eyes.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"The terrorists.....?.....They ARE the field office."
One Week Earlier......
Federico sat in her office, holding a freshly sharpened pencil. She looked at it, and hesitated, then she flung it up into the ceiling, and dodged it narrowly as it came crashing back down.
"OOooo," Mulder exclaimed, "That was close, real close. Too much force, though, keep trying."
Another one flew. Crashed down before getting halfway to the ceiling.
"Oh, that was bad." Mulder shunned.
"Hey, I don't get the type of time to lie around and throw pencils at my office ceiling. Apparently, I have something called work?"
"Touché."
Federico flung the pencils, eyes-closed, desperate.
"Hey-hey! Looks like we have a winner!"
Federico opened her eyes and laughed sheepishly. "Hey, Garaguso."
Scully stepped in behind him. "Mulder corrupting you? Defacing FBI property again?"
"Oh, Scully. Its completely different." Mulder stated, in a whiny-tone. "This isn't defacing. This is art." He flung up on last pencil, forming the letters, "FBI."
"Oh, boy." Scully sighed, then continued. "You guys ready to leave?"
"Yeah."
"I think I left my coat downstairs."
"I'll come with you, Mulder." Scully offered.
Garaguso shuffled over to his desk and turned off the computer. Federico was putting a last few files in order.
"Oh. Garaguso? Remember a while back, that substance-of-doom thing?"
"Yeah. We never got much of a lead and had to quite it, we presumed it a false tip."
"Yeah, that one. I got some information, I think its credible."
"Who from?"
"Anonymous source. But apparently, Mulder's received good tips from this pseudonym before."
"Let's have a look."
Garaguso reviewed the file.
"Well, its worth checking into. At least this guy uses spell check, I mean, that's a good sign."
Federico smiled, putting the file aside.
"We're ready," Mulder called from the hallway. The four were going out for a Friday-night drink at a local club. They'd invited Skinner, but he claimed to have paperwork. Mulder speculated he was just intimidated by his awesome intelligence. Scully told him to keep telling himself that. To everyone's fear, he took her up on it.
Out at the club, Mulder pulled the other 3 reluctant agents to the dance- floor. Eventually, Federico got a little too wrapped up in their own little worlds. Scully and Garaguso kinda skulked off, pretending they didn't know them.
April 26, 2003 FBI Headquarters 12:00 P.M.
Federico wandered into Mulder and Scully's office around noon, a sorrowful look upon her face.
"Bad day?" Mulder never even looked up.
"You could say that," she responded, cracking her neck.
"Whatchya' working on?"
"Black Substance Of Doom."
"I told you to lay off those cigarettes, Federico."
She laughed, and flipped through Scully's wildlife-calendar. Thanks to Federico, Scully was now officially a member of Save the Wildlife Foundation.....and Green peace......And World Wildlife Foundation....and.....
"What ARE you working on?" Scully inquired, putting aside her autopsy report.
"Black Substance of Doom," she repeated. "That's what this terrorist is calling it, saying they're gonna take over the world with it."
"Any theories?"
"Major sleep deprivation or serious jetlag. I wish I was enthralled in the case, but we've got a bunch of mismatched leads, I mean, we don't even know where these guys are!"
"Well, keep on trying. Have faith," Mulder muttered, still never turning his attention from his computer.
"Really, I WANT to believe," she eyed the poster behind him subconsciously, "But I can't. You try taking the black substance of doom seriously!"
Silence. Scully frowned, trying to think of something to help, Mulder continued to stare at the monitor.
"What are you looking at anyway?" Federico asked, her Sicilian temper becoming aggravated.
She leaned over his shoulder to see as he responded, still muttering nonchalantly, "Some Serious Free Cell."
Scully and Federico reached over to slap him at the same time.
"Hey!"
Federico cracked her back again walking up the stairs to her apartment. The keys jingled in her door, and she flopped down on the couch. Darn the 22% body-fat requirements. She wanted Entimen's.
She flipped around some stations on TV. Fox News channel.
"Spiff." Apparently the news had gotten hold of what was supposed to be Garaguso and Federico's private case.
"Garaguso."
"Hey. Have you turned on the news?"
"No. Why?"
"Fox News. Now."
Garaguso flipped the stations. "Ohhhhhh-----"
"Let's keep this censored."
"How'd the media.....?"
"I wish I knew. You haven't been talkin' to Kerch again, 'ave ya'?"
"I wouldn't touch the man with a ten-foot pole."
"Well that's reassuring. Watch out, he could fire you due to some 'serious allegations' and being 'way outta line' for saying that."
"How'd he know?"
"Wire taped."
There was a pause.
"Well, how do we tone this down?"
"I don't know, Garaguso, but let's quiet the media before this is mentioned in Bush's next State of the Union Address."
Click.
Federico and Garaguso had picked up the nasty habit of just hanging up. Darn Mulder. Scully was right. Poor Federico was being corrupted.