The streetlamps reflected orange on the wet blacktop. It had rained while Mulder was in the office. As Mulder trudged over to his car, he noticed a recently lit cigarette on the pavement. He jerked his head up, searching for the lank figure he had become familiar with. Seeing no one, he cautiously unlocked his door and got in. There, pinned on the dark leather of the steering wheel, was a folded slip of paper. Unpinning it, Mulder read it with shaking hands:
Washington Memorial 9:00 pm
Come Alone.
Mulder crumpled the paper in a ball and threw it angrily against the windshield. It bounced back and hit him in the face, which only angered Mulder more. He jerked his coat sleeve back and glared at his watch. 8:55 pm.
Mulder walked across the dark grass, drops of water glistening on his shoes. Silhouetted against the bright cityscape was a man casually waiting. As Mulder neared, he saw the orange burn of a cigarette. He stayed silent for a moment after reaching him before speaking:
"What do you want, you smoking son of a bitch?"
"I have a deal..." CGB Spender's raspy voice responded.
"And what sick deal is it now?"
"Scully, you'd do anything for her, am I correct?" He took a deep inhale of his cigarette and blew the strong smoke into Mulder's face.
Mulder flinched, "Of course I would. I would give my life for her."
At CSM's twisted smile, Mulder immediately regretted telling him that.
"Then you might be interested in what I have to say. I'm getting old and unable to do some of the...things...that I used to. I need a man, a man capable of the services I need..." As Mulder opened his mouth to object, CSM raised a yellowed hand to silence him. "I am a fair business man. I do have a trade to make..." He reached into his gray trench coat and pulled out a small vial of dark red liquid. The glass glinted in the moonlight as CSM tipped it back and forth.
"What is that?" asked Mulder skeptically.
"This is the remedy to Agent Scully's tribulation. I am willing to exchange this for certain, assigned services."
"How do I know I can trust you?" Mulder questioned, trying not to eye the glass vial hungrily.
CSM chuckled and shook the vial slightly in front of Mulder, "Have I ever steered you wrong?"
Mulder deliberated the situation before him. He would do anyone and anything to save Scully, but did he really want to help the one man who was helping tear them apart?
Making a grab for CSM's wrinkled hand, Mulder took the vial and held the cool tube in his palm. "What do I have to do?" he asked gruffly.
CSM grinned twistedly and pulled out another slip of paper, handing it to Mulder. "After you have administered the potion to Scully and said your goodbyes, meet me here. And no FBI or I'll make sure Scully meets the end of that long tunnel..." He walked away briskly and quickly disappeared into the shadows.
Mulder stared at the small vial in his hand, until it struck him was CSM had said. He gazed frantically around the park, looking for where CSM had gone, but saw nothing.
"My goodbyes?!" he screamed to the shadows. "I will not leave Scully alone with this!"
Mulder didn't expect a response, so he strode back across the lawn and locked himself in his car. He unclenched his fist and examined, once again, the small vial in his palm. The dark red liquid seemed to glow in the moonlight reflecting through the windshield. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears from escaping. He would not crack now. When Scully first got sick, he vowed that he would find a way to make her better and this vial he held now could be that way. He carefully wrapped it in a soft, white handkerchief from his pocket and tucked it into his pocket.
Washington Memorial 9:00 pm
Come Alone.
Mulder crumpled the paper in a ball and threw it angrily against the windshield. It bounced back and hit him in the face, which only angered Mulder more. He jerked his coat sleeve back and glared at his watch. 8:55 pm.
Mulder walked across the dark grass, drops of water glistening on his shoes. Silhouetted against the bright cityscape was a man casually waiting. As Mulder neared, he saw the orange burn of a cigarette. He stayed silent for a moment after reaching him before speaking:
"What do you want, you smoking son of a bitch?"
"I have a deal..." CGB Spender's raspy voice responded.
"And what sick deal is it now?"
"Scully, you'd do anything for her, am I correct?" He took a deep inhale of his cigarette and blew the strong smoke into Mulder's face.
Mulder flinched, "Of course I would. I would give my life for her."
At CSM's twisted smile, Mulder immediately regretted telling him that.
"Then you might be interested in what I have to say. I'm getting old and unable to do some of the...things...that I used to. I need a man, a man capable of the services I need..." As Mulder opened his mouth to object, CSM raised a yellowed hand to silence him. "I am a fair business man. I do have a trade to make..." He reached into his gray trench coat and pulled out a small vial of dark red liquid. The glass glinted in the moonlight as CSM tipped it back and forth.
"What is that?" asked Mulder skeptically.
"This is the remedy to Agent Scully's tribulation. I am willing to exchange this for certain, assigned services."
"How do I know I can trust you?" Mulder questioned, trying not to eye the glass vial hungrily.
CSM chuckled and shook the vial slightly in front of Mulder, "Have I ever steered you wrong?"
Mulder deliberated the situation before him. He would do anyone and anything to save Scully, but did he really want to help the one man who was helping tear them apart?
Making a grab for CSM's wrinkled hand, Mulder took the vial and held the cool tube in his palm. "What do I have to do?" he asked gruffly.
CSM grinned twistedly and pulled out another slip of paper, handing it to Mulder. "After you have administered the potion to Scully and said your goodbyes, meet me here. And no FBI or I'll make sure Scully meets the end of that long tunnel..." He walked away briskly and quickly disappeared into the shadows.
Mulder stared at the small vial in his hand, until it struck him was CSM had said. He gazed frantically around the park, looking for where CSM had gone, but saw nothing.
"My goodbyes?!" he screamed to the shadows. "I will not leave Scully alone with this!"
Mulder didn't expect a response, so he strode back across the lawn and locked himself in his car. He unclenched his fist and examined, once again, the small vial in his palm. The dark red liquid seemed to glow in the moonlight reflecting through the windshield. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears from escaping. He would not crack now. When Scully first got sick, he vowed that he would find a way to make her better and this vial he held now could be that way. He carefully wrapped it in a soft, white handkerchief from his pocket and tucked it into his pocket.