Chapter 4: Secrets
Rated M for Sculdermully snogginess.
My son, the brat, being a new X-phile, has been steadily watching his way through my box sets for the past month, and informs me that I am an idiot. Well, he's almost 15. They know everything, right? So, Queequag actually appeared in Season 2, not Season 7. Too bad. I like him. I think he is sticking around in my story. Practically everything else I'm writing adheres to the original, Chris Carter canon. So there!
Many of you have asked me the origin of the name Queequag. Guess what? I found out. Queequag is a principal character from the book 'Moby Dick', by Melville. An attractive, tattoo-covered 22 year old, he comes from a fictional group of savage cannibals, who are in the habit of remorselessly devouring their enemies slain in battle. He becomes a harpooner and is much admired by the character Ishmael. You may learn more about him on Wiki.
In the original X-Files canon, Dana's father used to read her 'Moby Dick'. The pair had a great affection for the novel.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is merely coincidental.
Music for this chapter can be found at youtubedotcom/jmollytwilight2, on the playlist 'Twi-Files: The Truth', beginning at #4:
'Human', by Civil Twilight
Sunday July 4th, 2010:
A rose-covered cottage in the Olympic Rainforest:
Edward held the door open for Bella. He and Jasper bumped fists and then followed her inside. Carlisle sat in the loveseat, watching fireworks on the big screen TV. Renesmee was curled on his lap, sound asleep. Edward took her, silently, and carried her to bed. Then, he returned to the sitting room while Bella tucked the child in.
"Well?" Carlisle asked softly. Edward and Jasper exchanged an amused look and chuckled.
"They're completely smitten with each other," Edward said happily. "I haven't met two humans so well-suited in a long time."
"Tarnation! The lust," Jasper said, rolling his eyes. "Happy Fourth of July! I won't have to spend much time with them, Carlisle. All they needed was a little nudge or two from me. They seem to be figuring things out on their own. Not like Charlie and Sue. Now there were two people out of touch with their feelings."
"You didn't push them into bed, did you?" Edward asked in alarm.
" 'Course not. I never do. That'd be wrong. You know that I can only influence them temporarily. I'm just giving a little boost to natural feelings here, brother. No point getting them all overwhelmed, and then having them get mad at each other and put all that energy into the case."
"So you both agree they're a mated pair," Carlisle checked.
"Yep. Totally attached to each other. Being around their thoughts was totally embarrassing," Edward grinned.
"You should be glad you can't read emotions," Jasper chortled.
"Yeah. Thoughts are enough," Edward agreed. "I think Mulder is a sex addict," he smirked.
"So you two will ... encourage them to be wrapped up in each other, while we handle the threat," Carlisle suggested. His sons nodded. "Ready to hunt?"
"Yeah. Who else is coming with us?" Edward wondered.
"The Kwali, and Alice, Em and Rose."
"Sounds great. Let me change into something durable," Edward said, tugging his shirt collar.
"Hurry. We have to meet the Kwali in Port Angeles in an hour." Carlisle informed him.
"Can't I come, too, Carlisle?" Bella asked, chewing her bottom lip.
"You should stay with Ren," Carlisle said firmly.
"Our shared talent is handy though," Bella protested.
"Alice says we'll find important traces tonight, Bella. But we won't be finding our little grandmaster yet. There won't likely be any fighting."
Bella nodded reluctantly. "I'll say my prayers for you. Come back safe."
"Thank you, my girl. That would be appreciated."
o~o~0~o~o
At two o'clock in the morning, Dana Scully woke up, immersed in Mulder's masculine scent. She opened her eyes slowly, afraid to dispel the dream. If only he were really holding her, she thought. It couldn't be real. He was so tall, he'd be dreadfully uncomfortable on a couch. Besides, he probably would never commit himself. The X-Files were his true love, and he'd never risk losing them to be with her.
Sighing, she opened her eyes, prepared to accept that it was just an illusion. She really had to go pee.
He was holding her.
They must have fallen asleep on the couch, and he was holding her. The lamp on the end table was on, but the TV was off and so were all the other lights. And her top leg, dear God, was resting between his. And he was hard. Saints preserve us.
Dana Scully had never wanted to move her body away from him less, and had never had to do so, more.
Why the hell couldn't she just hold it?
She lay there, trying to forget about the fact that she had to go.
Minutes passed.
Damnit. It was no good. She really had to go.
If she were sneaky, perhaps she could get back before he noticed.
Carefully, Dana shifted away from Fox, pulling her leg from between his, and feeling out with her foot and hand, behind her, for the floor. She slid smoothly off the couch onto the carpet. Mulder moaned a little and gave a soft snore.
Scully dashed to the bathroom and relieved herself. She tip-toed back, and looked at her partner, sleeping. She turned off the light, and carefully lay back down next to him, placing her neck on his arm. She breathed him in, feeling his soft breath on her face. Feeling, for the first time in many months, that she was home. But what if he didn't feel the same? What if she risked everything and... she lost him?
He shifted a little in his sleep, groaning. "Dana," he cried softly.
She froze, disappointed. Great. She was starring in some pornographic fantasy. She wasn't special at all. He just wanted a good-
"Dana," he cried again. "My Scully. Never leave me again."
She froze against him for a second time, and when she melted, the distance between them melted too. Scully no longer cared what the FBI brass thought. She no longer cared whether her family liked him. All she knew was that she never, ever wanted to be parted from Fox Mulder again. Sighing happily, she tucked her head under his chin, and basked in the warmth of his embrace. She pushed her knee against his legs, and he accommodatingly lifted his knee so their legs could become entangled.
He felt so good. She snuggled in as close as she could manage.
Mulder groaned, and the arm that was under her neck and the arm on top pulled her closer, and he held her tightly. He nuzzled her face with his rough cheeks, sighing. How she wished they could remain like that forever. Then, the unthinkable.
He was thrusting in his sleep. Against her leg. Her bare leg, and his old, soft, sweatpants. And his erect cock. Right there, so close to her. And she was soaking for him, but she didn't dare take the step. Didn't dare to respond with touches, in case he should reject her.
But, she was so damned curious about his cock. She'd never seen his hard-on uncovered. She'd glimpsed it under clothes, and hospital gowns, and his bathing suit. But never displayed for her eyes. How damn badly she wanted to reach down and pull it out of his pants and grip it tightly while he thrusted for her, thumbing over his tip to spread the droplet of lubrication she was sure would be there, and pleasure him until he came, with her name in his mouth.
She didn't dare. She couldn't ruin the moment. Couldn't have him draw back and push her away and break her heart.
But she was so curious.
Finally, she reached out, and lay her hand lightly along his length, exploring it with only the knit pants between them. There were no underpants under it. She copped a good feel, dripping for him, her nipples electrically sensitive against the fabric of her shirt. He thrust against her palm a few more times. So good. So beautiful. She shuddered, coming undone without even having touched herself or having him touch her.
Her man had fallen back into deeper slumber. She wondered if he had climaxed, silently, in his sleep. She wondered about his dreams.
She lay awake a long time, restless and frustrated.
The dog jumped back up onto the couch, turned three circles at their feet, and settled on top of them, functioning as a heavy, furry little foot-warmer. Dana sighed a laugh.
Finally, she slept, thankful to even have this much physical contact with the man whom, if she were honest, she would admit that she had wanted for the past seven years.
o~o~0~o~o
Monday, July 5th , 2010
The grey light filtered through the front window, beside the kitchen, until the room was filled with unpleasant brightness. Mulder winced, and shifted. Something was different. Something was good. Someone.
Dana. Dana, in his arms. Dana, with her leg thrown over his hip.
He opened his hazel eyes slowly, and met hers.
They stared at each other, not speaking.
He wondered if his eyes looked like hers. Vulnerable. Nervous. Reluctant to apologize, or to move.
"Dana," he said, his throat dry.
"Fox," she whispered back, blue eyes large and uncertain.
I love you.
I want to be with you forever.
Love me.
Simple words, and so heavily loaded. There would be no going back.
"Dana, I ..." his voice trailed off into nothing.
"Me, too, Fox. Me too," she whispered.
He shifted a little, and felt a twinge in his pants. His jizz had dried, uncomfortably. He reached down to adjust himself, accidentally brushing against her mound with the back of his hand, and realized with shock, that his pants were wet with her juices. He looked at Dana, raw with need. She coloured, but did not drop her eyes.
"I want... I want to kiss you, so badly," he admitted. "But... I won't be able to stop. And we'll be late for our meeting with Chief Swan. And I'm ... not rushing anything with you. You... you're far too important to me. Without you, I..." He begged her with his eyes.
"Yeah. I know. I couldn't ... " Dana sighed. "We should get up," she stated reluctantly.
"Yeah."
Neither of them made a move.
But time waits for no human. Eventually, they had to make a choice: touch, or stop touching.
Skinner would expect a report later. Chief Swan would be expecting them. Innocent people had died, and more might die if they didn't get a move on. Sighing, they parted, and went to ready themselves for the day.
o~o~0~o~o
Officer Call knocked softly on Charlie's office door.
"Come," Charlie barked. He was busy, cleaning his firearm.
"Chief? There's a Fox Mulder and a Dana Sculley here to see you," the rookie said.
"Bring 'em in, Embry," Charlie said, loading a new clip.
Charlie and Carlisle had had yet another discussion concerning the attacks by blood drinkers in the region.
The Cullens and Hales had spent the night scouring the area around Port Angeles.
They had found several different footprints, and indications of a struggle. They suspected it was the place where Sheila Cooper had met her horrific end. Charlie would send officers out on an anonymous tip, he decided. Then, after making the discovery, he could send out the Feds.
He wondered if vampire-led massacres would ever stop. Not that he wanted his family to pack up and leave, but would the evil ones leave the region alone then? If many more conflicts went on, the Volturi would certainly show up, and Charlie was not looking forward to that happening.
That said, Charlie had confidence that the Cullens could stop their enemies. They had stopped James. The Kwali Ute had stopped Laurent. The Kwali warriors and the Cullen family, together, had put a stop to Victoria, defeated Caius, and made treaties galore with the Volturi, but barely seven years since it had all started, here they were again, threatened.
And this time, their involvement had not stayed under the humans' radar. This time, the good guys could be exposed. And that would be very, very bad for everyone.
Perhaps if they left, the trouble would follow them and leave the human community for good. But if the protectors left, and the blood drinkers didn't, the local humans would be sitting ducks.
So Charlie hoped to God the Cullens could solve the problem on their own. Soon.
The office door opened, and Embry brought in a couple of typical Feds. You could spot them a mile away, right down to their regulation black shoes.
"Chief? Special Agents Mulder and Scully," Embry announced.
"Thank you Embry," Charlie said, giving the Feds a good look over. He frowned a little. The man, Mulder, was overdressed in a grey suit. The woman had dress pants and a sleeveless blouse that would still be uncomfortable in the wet weather. As if on cue, it started to rain outside. "Hello, folks," Charlie said. Carlisle said he would have to be very careful of the pair. Carlisle didn't want them underfoot, getting hurt.
"Hello, Chief Swan. We've been sent to help with the exsanguination case. My partner and I specialize in unusual cases. We have a very high success rate."
Charlie took their proffered hands, holding onto them for a few seconds to demonstrate his sincerity.
"Good. As I'm sure you learned by now, my son-in-law's father is the target. Seeing as the entire family suffers from Coproprophyria, it is pretty obvious that whoever is doing this is trying to get Carlisle in trouble. I'm worried about him. He's such a kind man that he just doesn't see why anyone would do this to him. He insists he doesn't know anybody who it could be. Whole family's in denial, except Edward and Bella. Makes it hard to do our jobs. I'm downright worried about all of them."
Mulder was taken aback, having been told the Chief was not cooperating. "So you won't mind us being on your patch," Mulder asked warily.
" 'Course not. Any extra hands are welcome. This county's normally pretty quiet. Crime rates are low. We're not used to dealing with murders, especially anything this weird or violent. People are scared."
"There's nothing in the reports we've received about the Coproprophyria," Scully stated.
Charlie rolled his eyes and sighed. "If you'll pardon my French, the cumquat in charge in Seattle is not exactly open to my input. He says the killer is somebody who has decided Carlisle is to blame for something that's happened to him. Perhaps the loss of one of Carlisle's patients. Because of the blood draining connection to vampirism, I immediately alerted the dickwad to my theory, that the killer is trying to make it out that Carlisle is a so-called 'real' vampire, to discredit him. I put it in my very first report, and now you're telling me it's not been entered into the file? Shit." Charlie ran a hand through his curly black hair, and crossed his arms grumpily.
"May we have your report?" Scully asked politely.
"Sure. Got my reports right here." Of course he did. He'd sat up half the night, writing them, to Edward's specifications. "Nice to be taken seriously. Just 'cause this is a small county, there's no reason for the Chief in Seattle to disregard my reports, you know? Crap. I dunno why I take time to write them if he's not gonna read them." Charlie dug in his top file drawer and drew out a folder, which he handed to Scully.
"Your reputation is extremely good," Mulder said reassuringly. "Frankly, the man in charge accused you of not being cooperative. I'm extremely surprised to hear this from you."
Charlie blushed furiously. Mulder couldn't know that he blushed when lying. Nothing to embarrass a guy, like intimating that a fellow officer was not a nice man. "Thanks for the compliment. You know, I'm glad you're open to my ideas, even if they are a little off-the-wall."
"There seems to be a lot of off-the-wall gossip about the Cullens," Mulder said, eyeing Charlie seriously.
Charlie bristled. "You know, there are a lot of small-minded people in this town. Can't accept folks who are different. It's no wonder they haven't publicized their health problems, especially since Bella ended up catching it. People would get upset and Carlisle would lose his job.
"The Cullens are excellent people. I got worried when he moved here with all those foster kids. But I've never had a lick of trouble from any of them. Must be almost ten years since they came. Small town prejudice against incomers, that's what it is. If the people in this town only knew how much good that family does for folks, they'd kiss up. But the Cullens are Christians and they don't boast. Unlike most of the yokels around here."
"They're philanthropists?" Mulder asked, a little surprised.
"That's the understatement of the year. Sometimes I hear about their good works from people, because I'm a relative. The Cullens don't even tell me most of the shit they do. They keep it quiet. They're not in the least bit vain. You want to know about the family, you should talk to the Reverent Mister Weber on over at the Lutheran Church. Cullens aren't even Lutheran, but Edward and Bella are friends with the daughter, Angela, and her fiancé Ben. So whenever there's something they want to give, the Webers are one of the first families they think of to make it happen.
"The Cullens have money to burn. They are not in the least snobby, though. There's a whole hospital wing in Seattle that was built because of them. And the local hospital? Carlisle accepted a salary that most nurses would turn up there noses at, just because Esme wanted to live in a small town. He works because he loves it. He doesn't need the money."
"How did they make their money?" Scully asked.
"Carlisle was a wunderkind. Been an eminent surgeon for a long time, and he's worked at some big hospitals. He made plenty of green. Kids all got insurance and inheritances when their parents passed, and Carlisle invested it well. The daughter, Alice, has a real talent for the stock market. But she doesn't want a career in it. She loves clothes. Wants to be a fashion designer. None of the kids have to work. Edward, for example, has his medical degree from Dartmouth. Kid's just twenty-four. He's applied around for an internship, but nothing's panned out, yet.
"For the past five years, he and Bella have been dividing their time between getting degrees at Dartmouth, and working at an aid station in the Amazon, helping the Ticuna Indians there. His brother Emmett and his sister-in-law Rosalie frequently go down to help out. None of them takes a salary. They've built houses, and a health clinic, and a school down there, which they're outfitting with books, all with their own money. And they're drawing attention to the destruction of the environment and getting the local people active in politics and conservation, too.
"Do you know there are only 40,000 Ticuna in the world, and Bella and Edward have learned to speak the language? Edward knows a lot of languages, thanks to Esme. Bella's learned Brazilian Portuguese, too. They've helped a lot of people. People being abused by whites. You might not know this, but there's a whole sub-group of Westerners who target the young people of the Amazon for the sex trade. Edward and Bella have rescued a lot of youngsters from that life. Sometimes girls as young as fourteen show up pregnant. And my kids are the ones who care for them, and teach them how to care for their babies.
"When I get time off this year, I'm going down to have a look. Takes five days on foot to reach their settlement. I'm telling you, I couldn't be more proud of the lot of them.
"Locally: the food bank, the women's shelter, the school, the library? They've all benefited from the Cullens' generosity. They rebuilt the blood bank, too. It was in danger of closing, because the building was in such disrepair. And, here, they have to put up with bullshit from the small minds, who are creeped out by people who look different. Gossips are always telling me they have cold hands. That's because of their heart conditions. Part of the Coproprophyria: bad circulation. They're not some kind of mythical creatures. I don't know how they put up with the unkindness some people show them. The Cullens are saints, I'm telling you."
"Wow. You know, I was told people call them 'creepy'," Mulder admitted, gauging Charlie's reaction.
Charlie huffed. "People always judge those they don't understand. They're idiots."
"Bella and Edward are remembered fondly by their friends, here, though." Mulder said. "Why didn't they stay in touch with them?"
"How many of your friends from high school do you still hang out with, Agent Mulder?" Charlie asked, eyes narrowed.
"Um, one," Mulder admitted.
"Yeah. And Edward and Bells spend time with Angela and Ben whenever they're in town. And Eric Yorkie is dating Edward's cousin Tanya. They're up in Alaska right now, where the cousins live. The rest of their friends from high school haven't taken much of an interest in them. They've grown apart, like most twenty-somethings do. Truth is, Edward and Bella are too intelligent to have much of a relationship with most of those kids."
Scully and Mulder looked taken aback. "You mean, there's something wrong with their friends?" Dana probed.
"No, I mean literally. Bella was in the advanced placement program at her high school in Phoenix. She graduated high school here with a 4.0 GPA. Then she went to Dartmouth, and got her Masters in English in an accelerated program. Edward is even more intelligent than Bella. His IQ is over 200.
"Do you mean to say he scored 200 on the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale?" Scully gawped.
"Yeah, that's the one," Charlie said proudly. "Carlisle says Edward's smarter than him. He used to be a real loner. Bella's really pulled him out of his shell."
"About the case," Scully said, diverting the Chief before he could start up again. "When I examined the two most recent victims, I discovered poorly-concealed human bite marks. The dental impressions I made indicate that there were at least three different assailants involved."
Charlie blanched. "Bite marks?" he repeated weakly.
"Which leads me to conclude we're dealing with a group of people serving someone who's holding a grudge. Perhaps they're part of a cult or something. Like the Mansons," Scully finished.
"I can't imagine anybody from around here biting and killing people. I sure as hell hope you solve this," Charlie admitted.
"Oh, we will, Chief Swan. We will get to the bottom of this," Mulder promised. "Is there anyone other than Mr..." he consulted his notebook, "Weber, you think we should talk to?"
"I hope you're not going to accuse Carlisle of these crimes," Charlie growled.
"No, we're firmly convinced that the killer and his comrades are trying to discredit Dr Cullen. We need to find out more about him in order to find out more about whoever is orchestrating these attacks."
"Oh. Well, I s'pose you should talk to Carlisle's boss. And his family. Um, yeah, that's where I'd start."
"Okay. Well, thanks so much for your cooperation. We'll keep you apprised of any developments," Mulder promised.
"Yeah, I sure would appreciate that," Charlie said, his lips thin.
"Oh," Mulder said on his way out. "We have to talk to somebody about Margery Thompson. Who do you think would be a good person to approach?"
"Hmm. Gonna talk to the Quileute, huh? Well, I don't really know who to say. They've closed ranks. I suggest you ask Billy Black. He's a respected elder, there. He might not talk, though. If it doesn't work, try my wife, Sue. She might be able to get you 'in'.
"Okay. Thanks. That's great. I'm sure we can get the Quileute people to talk to us. We're easy to talk to," Mulder bragged.
"Yeah. Good luck with that," Charlie Swan said, rolling his eyes. Despite the fact that the 'vegetarian' vampires and the werewolves were now kinfolk, the Treaty still bound both sides to secrecy. Sam and Jake probably had gag orders on all the Kwali already. Embry was operating on instructions to 'get nowhere' with the case as far as the police were concerned. What he told Chief Swan and the tribe was a different thing.
Mulder and Scully took their leave, after being cautioned by Embry not to leave the damn dog out in the car, windows down, or not. Charlie told them to take Queequag with them into interviews, save the one with the hospital director. People in this area were accustomed to dogs. Maybe not ridiculous little Kleenex-box-cover dogs like Queequag, but that was merely a matter of taste.
Charlie looked out the door of the station, wishing Mulder and Scully luck. More like, sending up a prayer that they wouldn't find what they were looking for, seeing as it would be the last thing they ever did. Charlie wished he could be a fly on the wall at La Push. Perhaps he'd have Embry phase later, and get a good, descriptive account of the interviews with the Quileute.
Like a bunch of werewolves were apt to come clean about how an enemy vampire got right into the heart of La Push, hanging up his lunch for all to see. Yeah, they'd tell the FBI all about that one.
Charlie went back to his desk and closed the door. He sat down and punched a number into the phone, and waited for it to pick up. "Carlisle?" he asked, lips thin.