1A while later Mulder and Scully entered their office, completely oblivious to the visitor that had been there only a few hours previous.
"That was certainly a constructive waste of 3 hours," Mulder commented, his voice dripping with disdain.
"I'd guessed you weren't really enjoying yourself. I think it was the drooling while you slept that clinched it," Scully retorted. Mulder feigned indignance.
"I was not asleep! I was merely resting my eyes."
"Since when do people resting their eyes' snore! My father's ships didn't make that much noise when they hit rocks!" Scully laughed out loud and Mulder couldn't help but join in too. "You were just lucky Kirsh was otherwise engaged. I'm not sure you'd still have a job if he'd been there!"
Mulder chuckled quietly to himself as he picked up a file from on top of the filing cabinet, imagining what Kirsh's reaction would've been. Scully's voice pulled him out of his daydream.
"Look's like you've got mail Mulder." He turned round to see her stood beside his desk with a white envelope in her hand. It was addressed to him. Scully walked towards him and handed it over. It looked exactly like the envelope in his inside jacket pocket. Mulder stood there staring at it in his hands, afraid to open it for fear of what it might contain.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Yea. Later." He shoved it into his jacket pocket, sidestepped Scully and sat down at his desk. He flipped on his computer and stared at the screen, waiting for it to load.
"What if it's important?"
"It can still wait till later." Mulder then proceeded to start typing something. Scully stepped forward and sat on the edge of the desk. She stared at him for a while, confusion and concern masking her features.
"Mulder are you ok? I know you said you weren't sleeping very well but is there something else, something more that you're not telling me?"
Mulder winced internally at this. She knew him way too well; she could read him like a Goddamn book. Still, he wasn't about to get her involved if it was nothing. And even if it was something, Mulder was sure he could protect her. The one thing that worried him was that whoever this was had been in their office. Which begged the question, if he could get into the FBI, where else could he get into? Mulder was pretty sure by now that it was a he; his trained profilers mind had been hard at work thinking about it.
"Mulder?" Scully's voice shattered his reverie.
"Yes. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" She prodded gently.
"Yes." He shot back, a little harshly. Scully recoiled slightly, as if she'd been slapped. With a small sigh she stood up and started to walk across the room. She paused for a few seconds.
"Ok Mulder. But if there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here." She carried on walking until she reached her designated part of the office, now equipped with desk, and sat down. Scully pulled out a couple of case files and began reading.
A blanket of silence had fallen over the basement, broken only by the sound of computer keys and the occasional page turning.
He couldn't believe how easy it had been. All he'd had to go was dodge the security cameras and crawl through an air vent and he was in. It hadn't taken long to locate the office; there weren't that many in the basement, then it was just a matter of waiting until that son-of-a-bitch left.
Once he was gone, he just had to go inside and place the envelope on the right desk. The one with the nameplate that read 'Fox Mulder'. He'd seen the other nameplate: that read 'Dana Scully'. So that was the pretty red head's name? He kept that in his mind. Then all he'd done was walk out. Simple really. Like taking candy from a baby.
Phase three if his plan was complete. He had to be careful though; if it was made too easy it lost all element of fun. And that wasn't good. If he couldn't have a little fun, then what was the point in doing it?
Later that night Mulder was sat in his apartment flipping through a magazine. Every now and then his gaze would wander to his jacket, which was flung over his desk chair. Although he didn't want to open it, a part of him knew he had to. His thoughts trained back to Scully.
He'd been an asshole to her earlier when she was only expressing concern for his well being. On an impulse, Mulder picked up the phone and dialed Scully's number. She answered on the fourth ring.
"Hello?" She sounded slightly groggy, as though she had just woken up.
"Hey Scully it's me. Did I wake you?"
"Ah, not really."
"What do you mean not really?"
"I guess I must've dozed off while I was watching TV," she replied. He heard her stifling a yawn and he smiled to himself.
"Must've been an exciting program then."
"Mmm, I think it was something to do with alien encounters." Mulder laughed. "What's wrong Mulder? You don't usually call me without a reason."
"Nothing. I guess I just wanted to apologize for being such a jerk earlier. I was short with you. I'm sorry."
"That's ok. I guess I'm used to your funny moods by now." There was a smile in her voice as she said it, so Mulder played along.
"My funny moods? What about the funny moods you get every month or so?"
"At least my moods are caused by something. What's your excuse? And don't say male PMS because it won't wash," Scully shot back at him. Mulder laughed out loud. She laughed too.
"Well I guess I'll let you get back to your nap. I'll see you tomorrow Scully."
"See you tomorrow Mulder." And with that she hung up. He thought it strange how they never said goodbye. They never really had. He often wondered why, yet never came up with a reason.
Again his eyes came to rest upon his jacket. Finally he gave in to curiosity and grabbed it, reaching into his inside pocket and pulling out both envelopes. He tossed the open one aside and held the unopened one, turning it over in his hands. At last, Mulder ripped it open and pulled out its contents. Same as before; a photo inside a piece of paper.
Only this time there was more than one photo inside the paper. Carefully he unfolded it and looked at the photos. Again they were of Scully. They had been taken that day. In one she was going into Georgetown Memorial Hospital. In the second she was coming out of it. Mulder realized that was were she'd had to go for her appointment. He then turned his eyes to the note. It was written in poison pen, like the previous. On it this time was "I hope she's not sick"
Like hell you do, Mulder thought. He lent back against his sofa, the pictures and note in his lap, wracking his brain. Who would want to do this? Who would want to get at him through Scully? He thought of the Syndicate but they wouldn't beat around the bush with notes and photos; they'd just kidnap her or have her abducted. Hell they had before.
He tried to think of someone who might have a grudge against him. He smiled cynically. That list was about a mile long. Someone who might have a real reason to make him suffer; to pay him back for something he'd done that they didn't like. Mulder winced; he was getting nowhere. And there were a hell of a lot of people he'd pissed off for various reasons over the years. All of them with perfectly good reasons to get even with him. A small rustling sound broke through his chain of thoughts.
He glanced at his door to see another white envelope had been pushed under it. Quick as a flash Mulder jumped across the room and yanked the door open. He searched the corridor but there was no one to be seen. Sighing, Mulder stepped back inside, shutting the door behind him. He picked up the envelope and walked back over to the couch. He ripped it open and pulled out its contents. More photos inside another note. He pulled them out and looked at them. His eyebrows rose.
Again they were of Scully, only this time she was sat in her apartment watching TV. The screen showed a picture of a UFO; the program she'd been watching before he rang her. He flipped to the next photo and his eyes widened with alarm. In this one she was lying on her sofa, fast asleep. A single piece of auburn hair had fallen over her eyes. She looked so peaceful and beautiful, oblivious to the world around her. There was only one difference between this and the previous photo; this one had been taken from inside her apartment. He ripped his eyes away from the photo and focused his attention on the note.
This one was slightly longer than the others had been, "I'm watching her. I can take her anytime." Now Mulder was convinced that Scully was in real danger. Whoever this was had been inside her apartment while she was asleep; he could've done anything to her. The more he thought about it, the more anxious he got. He had to do something about this. Before Scully got hurt. Or worse. Gathering up all the photos and notes, Mulder grabbed his jacket and keys and exited his apartment.
That had been a close one. The thrill of getting caught was what made it worth doing. That feeling, knowing that she could wake up at any second and discover him was unbeatable. Fear fuelled adrenaline was the best. He had to admit; she looked even more beautiful asleep than she did awake, if that was possible. So angelic, pure, innocent. He felt sorry for what he was eventually going to have to do to her.
He had snapped an extra photo to keep for his self; to add to his already growing collection. Before leaving, he had moved the piece of hair out of her face and she'd stirred in her sleep. His hand had brushed her cheek as he'd done it, her skin had felt so soft next to his own.
He now sat in his dimly lit apartment in front of a desk. Letters from newspapers were strewn across the surface; rolls of film, tweezers and glue also littered the desk. His Nikon camera was to the left hand side of him. The wall above the desk was slowly filling up with photographs. All of the pretty Dana. Some pictures he'd neglected to send to that arrogant bastard, they were too special.
He ran his fingers across an image of her face he'd blown up. He'd taken it that day, when she'd come out of the hospital. She'd been looking directly at the camera. It had been a perfect picture. In fact, all of them were pretty good. It helped to have such a photogenic subject. The tips of his fingers traced across he line of her forehead, down her petite nose and across those bewitching lips. He was beginning to find himself becoming more and more enamored by her with each moment he watched her.
He was starting to envy that tricky sonofabitch now, as well as despise him. He got to spend each day with this stunning, elegant woman. Men like him got all the luck. Well, he thought to himself, a rancorous smile etching itself across his features; that obnoxious prat's luck was fast running out.