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crossedbeams replied to your post “It’s Friday, let’s talk about all the cryptids Mulder wants to fuck....”
Also, ever since the darkness falls bugs gave him a downstairs burn he's also found himself masochistically aroused by green light and fireflies
Summer nights on the porch of the unremarkable house, you know? Fireflies everywhere.
In Plain Sight: VII and VIII
Mulder and Scully are investigating the disappearances of three young women from a drop in centre. Set during the cancer arc. Read the previous parts here: [I] [II] [III and IV] [V and VI]
VII
They’d argued for longer than normal. Until she had given in just so she didn’t have to hear Fox Mulder beg. He stood too close, with his hands on his hips and his jaw so taut she could hear his top and bottom teeth creaking and grinding together. That noise had buried itself in her brain and she could still hear it now, despite the monotonous whirr of the ceiling fan. He told her he would look further into Carol Arwen. He told her he would do the legwork on the missing girls. He told her he would ask around about grunge girl. What he hadn’t told her was that she was redundant. And she wouldn’t allow herself to be that.
The centre was busy even on a Thursday morning. She was grateful to get out of the oppressive heat. A storm was brewing and the looming sky glowered. Some of the kids were working on resumes and job applications, some were playing pool, others were kicking back. According to one young man with a lazy smile and acne scarring her partner had already left.
“Dude’s cool. How hard is it to become an FBI agent?”
Three other boys behind him laughed and shoved him. “You can’t be an agent, man. You’ll end up arresting half your own family.”
Scully smiled and felt lighter as she walked to the hall. It was empty, dusty and strangely lit by the silvery sunlight streaming through the thick clouds and the high windows on either side. There was a faint chemical smell, something she hadn’t noticed when the hall was full. She looked up at ceiling and realised the white was brighter there. It had been recently painted.
Rumbling thunder rolled outside, a long, slow drawl.
She closed her eyes to remember how it felt when the magic show was on. The excitement building. The clamouring sound of voices rising and rising before the utter silence when the lights went out. In the blink of an eye. A sudden change. Life could do that. It wasn’t really magic.
She walked around the edge of the hall, checking out the posters, the skirting, the picture rails, the old nails sticking out of the walls, the stage steps and stage itself, the broom cupboard, the electrical box, the backstage area. It was all the same as it had been.
Thunder cracked and she started, her heart racing. She swallowed and chided herself as she returned to the back and stood where she had been yesterday evening. She closed her eyes as the storm picked up a pace. She saw the first lightning flash even with her eyes closed. Where had the girls gone? What had they in common? Did they meet with foul play? What did Carol Arwen have to gain here or was she merely paying her societal dues?
When she opened her eyes, she turned to go but a behind her a young man stood with a cart of paint, rollers and other tools. She gasped.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I thought it was empty.”
Collecting herself, she removed her badge from her jacket pocket and showed him. “I’m here looking into the disappearance of three young women. How long have you been doing renovations here?”
He shrugged and looked over his shoulder to the door. “Since the beginning of the year, I guess. Me and some others, we’re here a coupla times a week. Painting and fixing it up, you know?”
Scully nodded. The room crackled with the next lightning strike. Thunder boomed. The man shifted on his feet and seemed to be waiting for her next move.
“Did you know the girls?”
He shook his head, again looking over his shoulder. His right foot bounced off the floor below him and she noticed the outline on the wooden boards. A faint rectangle carved out by grooves. She bent down and ran her hands around it, feeling the grit stick under her nails. The storm roared outside.
“What’s this?”
She looked up and the man had gone, leaving his cart. And Mulder stood above her.
VIII
He dropped down to join her, his eyes darkened by the atmosphere. “What’s going on?”
“I was just asking the painter about the girls.”
“What painter?”
She rubbed dust between her finger and thumb. “The young man who pushed this cart into the room. He was just here.”
“I didn’t see anyone.” Lines crinkled between his brows. He dipped his face a little, softened his tone. “Are you okay, Scully?”
Lightning sizzled in the sky. She stood up, light-headed. “I’m fine. He was here. And then the thunder struck and you were here.” She didn’t know why she was saying these things. It made no sense but recently nothing they did made sense. She exhaled as the thunder rumbled. “What’s down there, Mulder?”
He was digging at the edges of the floorboards with his pocket knife. He didn’t stop to answer her. She felt sluggish, thirsty. She wanted to sit in armchair with a mug of tea and let the world go on without her. She just didn’t have the energy or the will. But he was digging and pulling and hefting and heaving.
“It’s moving. Help me lift it up, Scully.”
Inertia pinned her. She could see him scrabbling at the edges to lift the boards, but she couldn’t bring herself to bend down to help him. He looked up at her, confused. A crack of thunder so loud split the air and the floor trembled beneath her. At the same moment, the floorboard came free with such force that Mulder tipped back and landed on his ass with an uncomfortable thud. Carol Arwen appeared at the doorway and the young painter stood at her side.
“What’s going on?” Carol strode across the floor and the echoes of her heeled boots reverberated around Scully’s head.
Mulder knelt forward and shone his flashlight into the hole where the boards had been. “We’re going to need a forensics team.”
Scully watched Carol Arwen’s face crumple as her own legs bowed and she felt herself drop gracelessly to the wooden floor.
This weekend, a belated summary:
walking in the rain after the weather forecast promised a dry day
exploring independent shops and trying on enormous sunglasses
burritos with disappointing guacamole
cocktails while coming up with “Hallmark by Hannibal” ideas
a boat trip on an almost-private boat
Cards Against Humanity and chilli
a rum-soaked watermelon and alcoholic frozen fruit smoothies
dancing to Kate Bush and lunge-offs
pub breakfast in the sun
countryside views and feeding strawberries to a sheep
Rose dropping her freshly bought ice cream onto a footpath covered in sheep shit, then picking the ice cream up and eating it anyway
getting incredibly uneven sunburn while jumping repeatedly off a bench for photos like basic bitches
watching a fisherman's excellent butt at a reservoir while eating a picnic
mini golf
watching an entire season of RuPaul’s Drag Race (I’ve watched a second entire season today, oops)
making my boyfriend a chocolate “hangover poo” and putting it in the bedroom for him to find (he enjoyed eating it)
I love and already miss @crossedbeams @chileananderson @mulderswaterbed and @your-perfect-opposite, they are Good People.
crossedbeams replied to your photoset “Okay, but we were meant to be. @mrbarrett70”
you guys are disgusting and I hate you
except i love you
cool because i love you just as much as pj loves rosie, which is a lot
crossedbeams replied to your post “It’s Friday, let’s talk about all the cryptids Mulder wants to fuck....”
And if he fucked the gender bender alien in both forms would it count as a threesome?
No, but give Scully a choice instead of a hefty dose of pheromones and she might be into it.
In Plain Sight: XI and XII Final
Mulder and Scully are investigating the disappearances of three young women from a drop in centre. Set during the cancer arc. (Written for a prompt from @crossedbeams - Mulder and Scully are in a room with a crowd of people, every time X happens, someone vanishes...) Read the previous parts here: [I] [II] [III and IV] [V and VI] [VII and VIII] [IX and X]
XI
Selina Sandoval backed into the room until she was butting up against the small desk. Mulder crossed his arms. Scully pinched the bridge of her nose. The already stifling air in the small room smelled like stale garlic and cheap tobacco. Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance. Scully could feel the pressure pushing against her temples.
“Where have you been, Ms Sandoval?” Mulder’s voice was soft against the grating wheeze of the fan on the floor in the corner.
The young woman said nothing, but tucked her hair behind her ears. It was shorter than the poster they’d seen days earlier.
“You were reported missing,” Scully said.
“I work here every day. I clean. I wash. I buy food,” Selina said. She looked at the manager. He coughed hard and dug a dirty hanky out of his shirt pocket.
“People were worried about you,” Scully said.
“I don’t understand why people think I was missing. Who reported me?”
Mulder looked at Scully. Scully couldn’t recall the detail of the report. “Marshall Comans. Do you remember him?”
Selina flushed. “Of course. He was my friend.”
“But you didn’t tell him you were leaving.”
She clasped the crucifix around her neck and Scully reflexively did the same. “I didn’t think he would care that much. And I didn’t go anywhere. I just didn’t go back to the centre.”
“And why was that?” Mulder said, staring at the manager who was chewing at the skin on the side of his thumb.
“I…it was…”
Scully squeezed her eyes shut as a crack of thunder hit overhead. When she opened her eyes again, Selina was crying quietly. Mulder turned on his empathetic expression and stepped towards her.
“What was it, Selina? Why didn’t you go back there? What happened?”
“Marshall…he…”
“Did he cheat on you, Selina?”
Selina rushed past. Scully followed her into the hallway. Lightning lit up the dankness. “Selina! It’s okay. You can tell me what happened. You’re not in any trouble.”
The young woman bawled for a few minutes and Scully stood, unsure whether to comfort her or to wait like the professional she should. Mulder would not have hesitated to step closer and embrace this woman. But he was talking on the phone in sharp tones. Thunder rolled around then burst in static spurts.
“Marshall told me he wanted to marry me. He said he would wait until I was 18 and then we would move away and have kids and a house. We used to go to the magic shows at the centre. They always made me feel that anything was possible, you know?”
Hopes, dreams, illusions. Where do you draw the line? Scully handed Selina another tissue. Mulder slipped his phone back in to his pocket and joined them.
“What happened?” Scully asked.
“That last show, there was a new trick. The lights went out, like so black it was as though the magician had sucked all the light out. I couldn’t see anything. I blinked and held my breath and when I opened my eyes Marshall was gone. I looked around. People were laughing and chatting like nothing unusual had happened. I went out of the room and saw him going out of the building. I followed. I saw him with another girl.”
Selina sniffed and shuddered out a breath. Her eyes were puffy and shiny, even in the miserable light of the hallway. A pair of young punk girls, arm in arm, walked past, knocking into Scully. Mulder grimaced and tapped his nose. She felt the ooze and bunched a tissue under her nose.
“He didn’t even tried to hide. It was like he was seeing this other girl all the time, right under my nose. In plain sight. I felt stupid. I believed him. But he was a liar and I wanted to run away. But that didn’t go so well the last time. So I stayed. Right here.”
“In plain sight,” Mulder said to her, but keeping his eyes on Scully. He lifted his chin up slightly, silently asking her if she was okay.
“The police investigated, Selina, when you were reported missing. We’ve seen the reports.”
“The police don’t care. They would have asked like three people in the centre if they’d seen me and then they would have stopped looking. People like me, we can just disappear. Nobody cares. We are invisible.”
XII FINAL
Back at the motel, heavy rain pelted the windows with a monotony that Scully found comforting. She fanned her face with the out of date attractions magazine and twisted her feet around to release the pressure in her calves. Mulder had told her the bones under the hall were animal, likely a dog, buried years before construction. Selina Sandoval was never missing. Maybe the other girls were here too, or maybe they just didn’t want to be found or saved or even to go on. The police could do more than they could. Should do more.
The door opened and Mulder walked in with a take out bag containing chicken burritos and two bottles of Coke. She lay on the bed, her body working overtime to cool her. He put the food on the small table and sat down on the end of her bed unknotting his tie and dropping it over the bobbly bedspread.
“What do you think Scully?”
“About what?” She sat up to sip the soda and felt it track down her gullet. Out of sight but most definitely doing its job, fizzing and cooling, supplying her body with a quick hit of sugar.
He handed her a burrito. “Ami and Riley. Carol Arwen. Grunge girl?”
“I think we see what we want to see, we hear what we want to hear. We observe and we ignore, we weigh and measure and we interpret and we add meaning where there is none. Not always consciously but because humans love to tell stories to explain things, to understand, to cope.”
The spicy chicken was tender and she realised how hungry she was, how much her body needed the fuel. It was working overtime not just to cool her, but to kill her. The cancer cells constantly dividing. The normal cells trying to save her.
“You might not always be able to see things happening, but it doesn’t mean it’s not taking place.”
Mulder put his burrito down and turned to her. His eyes were heavy with sadness. He always understood. That was the problem.
“I’m sorry, Mulder.”
“Don’t…”
She scooted forward and took his hand in hers. His was warm, heavy. “You have to face it. I have to face it. I want you to promise me that you won’t self-destruct. That you won’t lose yourself again. I need you to promise me.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t. But this isn’t going to defeat us…you. I’m still looking. I have to keep looking.”
She pulled his head to her chest and let him breathe onto her skin. His hot breath, the softness of his lips against her made her feel a rush of emotion, of hope even. “I know. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything but.”
“When you were taken, I was wild with anger. It was so meaningless, everything. But you came back then. Nobody saw you. You just appeared.”
“Like magic,” she said, chuffing out a small laugh into his hair.
“It was the best trick, Scully.” He looked up at her and kissed her. She stiffened at first, but her body relaxed and she kissed him back until she couldn’t breathe.
When they pulled apart, his eyes glistened with tears.
“Let’s go home, Scully.”
In Plain Sight: I
For @crossedbeams who sent me the prompt: Mulder and Scully are in a room with a crowd of people, every time X happens, someone vanishes.... Set during cancer arc. This fic is too long to post in one hit, so I’ll post a chapter a day.
The building was a weatherboard stuck between a cheap fashion chain and a liquor store. It was set back from the street so you wouldn’t notice it. Its dour exterior made even duller by its neon-bright neighbours whose signs blared out their specials. Scully trod up the step to the door. The heat from the main street had faded in the hall’s shaded location and for that she was grateful. Hours in an air-conditioned car had not prepared her for the humidity here and grey tropical weather was as miserable as grey winter weather. “You could easily miss this place,” Mulder said, taking the creaking fly door from her. “If you didn’t know where to look.” “Maybe that’s the point,” she said, feeling the welcome relief of the cool foyer, darkened by its dearth of windows and brightened by the riot of posters and drawings pinned to the wide corkboard. Amongst the rainbow of marketing material and hand-painted pictures, a blurry photo caught her eye. “Selina Sandoval.” Mulder peered over her shoulder. She could smell his shaving foam. She was grateful for those little things these days. He tapped the photo. “Good spot, Scully. She was the first girl to go missing. Eight months ago. Aged 17. Vanished without a trace.” Scully ran her fingers down the white border of the photo. It irked her on some base level that whoever had printed the photo had chosen a gloss print, akin to making a lurid show out of a tragedy. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that nothing vanishes without a trace, Mulder.” He sucked in a breath and moved down the corkboard. She watched his jaw flexing and marvelled at how unthinking she could be. “I’m sorry, Mulder. That’s not what I meant.” Nodding, he pushed out a long sigh. “In different circumstances I’m sure a forensics team would have found a wealth of evidence in our house. When my sister disappeared. But some victims are invisible even before they go missing.”
In Plain Sight: II
For @crossedbeams who sent me the prompt: Mulder and Scully are in a room with a crowd of people, every time X happens, someone vanishes….
[I]
The door labelled ‘office’ opened and a pair of teen boys wandered out, pushing each other and laughing until they saw Mulder. The taller boy stopped and turned back to the office, calling a name she couldn’t make out. A woman appeared and sent the boys away. They sidled past and pushed open the door, allowing a blast of heat to wrap itself around her.
“Agents Mulder and Scully, I presume?” the woman said, opening the door wider. She welcomed them in and offered them water. Scully sipped gratefully, but Mulder stood, hands in pockets reading from a leaflet he’d picked off the sideboard. “I’m Carol Arwen, youth development manager here. You said on the phone you had some questions.”
“Specifically about three young women who are missing and were last seen here,” Mulder flipped open his notepad for effect. Scully knew damned well he’d memorised the names and details of the girls and their mysterious disappearances. He would know their favourite bands, the names of their childhood pets, their zodiac signs and anything else he figured might give them a lead in what were probably already shelved cases. “Riley Sanchez, Ami Rahman and…”
“Selina Sandoval,” Carol added. “I’m aware of the cases. Although I wasn’t here when she went missing. I’ve been in charge here for six months. I’m not sure what else I can add that I didn’t already say in the police reports for the other two girls. I take it you’ve read them?”
Scully looked at Mulder. His eyes narrowed just enough to let her know he was interested in this woman’s attitude. “Sometimes a person can remember something significant even after many renditions of the same story.” He smiled at Carol and the woman softened visibly.
A clank and a crash interrupted the moment. “We’ve got painters in. We got a grant from the city some months back to do some renovations. This place is old but the young people love it. Some of them are learning construction and painting skills.”
Scully looked out the door to see a young man walk past in grubby overalls and carrying a tool bag. “Ms Arwen,” she said, hoping to leverage from the changing attitude. “These young women were under your care when they disappeared.”
Carol stiffened again. “The young people who attend this centre are not under our care. It is a drop-in centre and they’re free to come and go. We provide counselling, job skills training, somewhere for young people to feel safe. These people are some of the most vulnerable in our society and we are very careful to maintain an open door policy.”
Scully felt the familiar pressure at the bridge of her nose. The tickle. The warm release. She scrabbled in her jacket pocket for a handkerchief but Mulder beat her to it. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure who she was addressing.
“There are bathrooms down the hall, on the right,” Carol said, her nose crinkling a little.
Mulder folded his arms but his expression didn’t match the defensive pose. She hated how that face made her feel.
