FBI Headquarters
\nWashington DC
\nJanuary 24, 1996<\/b><\/p>\n
Scully was right. The cocktail sauce wasn’t terribly obvious, but considering how much he had paid for this tie, it would be nice to get the stuff off it before it could stain.<\/p>\n
There was a ‘closed’ sign outside the door of the restroom, but Mulder ignored it. Most of the agents seemed to disregard Mack Sherman’s work hours but he had never heard the janitor complain, or seen him be unable to work around whoever was in there.<\/p>\n
“Would you quit sneaking up on me like that!”<\/p>\n
Mulder stopped in the doorway, startled. I’m sorr–<\/i><\/p>\n
“And get out of the wall–” Sherman continued. “You look like a hunting trophy with just your head poking through.”<\/p>\n
The old janitor had his back to the door, so he couldn’t have seen the agent come in, and even if he had, the younger man didn’t have his head sticking through the wall like a hunting trophy. What on earth was he talking about then? And to who? Mulder noticed that Sherman seemed to be staring intently at something or someone straight in front of him, though there was no one there.<\/p>\n
“Where have you been?” Mack demanded of the air.<\/p>\n
Mulder, with a ‘this-can-wait’ glance at his tie, eased the door almost shut and pressed his ear to it.<\/p>\n
“Just because his nickname is ‘Spooky’ doesn’t mean you have to try to spook him. And why are you talking about him like you’ve met before?”<\/p>\n
The agent grimaced automatically at the sound of the hated nickname, even as he wondered who was trying to spook him, and how.<\/p>\n
“Michael Blake could see you, remember, Al? In case you didn’t notice, Agent Mulder can’t.”<\/p>\n
Al? Memories of a bizarre murder investigation in Toronto swept into Mulder’s mind. He leaned closer, excited. Could this be…?<\/p>\n
“He couldn’t before? Al, what are you talking about? HAVE we met him before?”<\/p>\n
If you’re talking to who I think you are, we have…and I admit, I couldn’t see him.<\/i><\/p>\n
“Whatever. So what about the tape? What have they done about that?”<\/p>\n
Who was supposed to do what with what tape?<\/p>\n
“They called the Project? What did Ziggy tell them?”<\/p>\n
Project? Ziggy? This really WAS beginning to sound like–<\/p>\n
“Didn’t it occur to him that I would be able to use my own clearance if I’d Leaped back to this time?”<\/p>\n
Ah ha! It WAS the time-traveler!<\/p>\n
“I’m tempted to call the Project and tell Ziggy that it WAS me. If I told her what I ‘stole’ from that warehouse–Oh, wait. They don’t even know it exists yet, do they? That Leap hasn’t happened yet for them, er…us.”<\/p>\n
Something about this half-conversation was beginning to sound strangely familiar beyond the fact that the man he’d met as Don Schanke, was now inhabiting the life of Mack Sherman. The words ‘tape’ and ‘warehouse’ had set off a bell…somehow connected TO Sam Beckett… He searched his eidetic memory for the link.<\/p>\n
“We’re not going to get away with this, Al. I’ve messed up the Leap. Not only is the tape not going to be destroyed, but I’m going to end up ruining Mack Sherman’s life in the process!” Sam sounded defeated, like a knight who’d taken on a giant only to discover it was a phantom and the real giant had devoured the damsel in distress when he wasn’t looking.<\/p>\n
“Well, what happens when the come to me demanding to know how I got a hold of the clearance? What do I tell them? I really doubt they’re going to believe the truth and Mack’s bound to lose his job if they think he’s been prying into government secrets. He *is* only a janitor.”<\/p>\n
What was so important about this tape they were talking about? He knew Sam, well, enough to know that he wasn’t the sort of man to risk someone else’s happiness for himself. This tape–apparently something Top Secret–must be incredibly important for him to risk hurting Sherman’s future for it.<\/p>\n
“Well, go back and see if you and Ziggy can come up with something I can do to save Sherman’s job. Since I’m finished here, I guess I’ll go clean the Ladies’ room–and no, you may *not* come with me!”<\/p>\n
Chuckling, Mulder backed quickly away from the door and ducked out of sight, heading back to the office. To waive questions he decided to take off the tie rather than explain why he hadn’t cleaned it. He couldn’t wait to talk to remind Scully about that even-more-bizarre-than-usual chapter in their lives.<\/p>\n
He was stopped short by a disappointing memory. Nick, the vampire cop, had hypnotized Scully into forgetting about the case’s supernatural elements in order to protect her from the Enforcers. He had meant to do the same to Mulder, but he had turned out to be a Resister (much to his delight). So, although Scully still remembered going to Toronto to help out with a murder investigation, she had completely forgotten the vampires, Immortals, aliens, time-travelers and other strange folk they had met there. Which suited her naturally skeptical mind just fine.<\/p>\n
Mulder sighed. Oh, well. It looks like Sam doesn’t remember us either. And if he did, he’d obviously have too much on his mind to–<\/i> Suddenly, the connection he’d been looking for snapped into place. The warehouse–I knew it sounded familiar! Could it be the same one…?<\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
FBI Headquarters Washington DC January 24, 1996 Scully was right. The cocktail sauce wasn’t terribly obvious, but considering how much he had paid for this tie, it would be nice to get the stuff off it before it could stain. … Continue reading