[fic] Case X-1743: Unresolved, Part II (2a/2) X-Men/X-Files; Mulder, Scully, Scott, Jean
- First, to those of you whom I owe email ... I'll
answer as soon as I can. I'm working away from home
at the moment. :-)
CASE X-1784: Uresolved
Part II, Washington, DC, 2005
X-Files / X-Men Movie Crossover
See initial Notes please, but a few additions....
X-Men fans, I couldn't resist a few puns and obscure
references, including the �very big truck.' And
although we didn't see it in the film, I've assumed
here that there is more than one way down to the
infirmary in the X-Mansion sub-basement, and Jean
would not take Scully in through the hall that opens
on Cerebro and the X-Men uniforms, etc. Agent Craig
Downer was mentioned in the X-Men: The Movie
novelization; John Doggett, of course, was not.
FLOOR OF THE US SENATE, Washingtton, DC, Spring, 2005
A theater-sized screen slid closed silently behind the
speaker, a pretty woman in a fire-engine red suit and
hair that glowed soft auburn under the high, bright
lights. She concluded her presentation:
*'. . . . We are seeing the beginnings of another
stage of human evolution. These mutations manifest at
puberty and are often triggered by periods of
heightened emotional stress.'*
*'Thank you, Ms. Grey. It was . . . quite
educational. However, it fails to address the larger
issue, which is the focus of this hearing. Three
words: Are mutants dangerous?'*
*'I'm afraid that's unfair question, Senator Kelly.
After all, the wrong person behind the wheel of a car
can be dangerous.'*
*'Well, we do license people to drive.'*
*'Yes, but not to live. It is a fact that mutants who
have come forward and revealed themselves publicly
have been met with fear, hostility, even violence. It
is because of that ever-present hostility that I am
urging the Senate to vote against Mutant Registration.
To force mutants to expose themselves. . . . .'*
*'Expose themselves? What is it that the mutant
community has to hide, I wonder, that makes them so
afraid to identify themselves?'*
*'I didn't say they were hiding.'*
*'Well let me show you what is being hidden, Ms. Grey
. . . . '*
Mulder sighed and got up off the couch �- his old
black leather couch, which he'd insisted on bringing
to their new home along with his fish. Scully hadn't
quibbled. Much. "He's eating her alive," he muttered
to his wife, as he passed behind Scully's chair to get
cold pizza out of the fridge. Married three years and
he still hadn't changed his eating habits.
Seeing the pizza box, Billy chanted, "Pizza, pizza,
pizza!" from where he was playing with a wooden Brilo
train set in the rec room.
"He's definitely your son, Mulder," Scully said
without looking up from the paperwork she was doing at
the kitchen table.
"Was there any doubt?"
Scully just grinned. These days, it was a joke.
Once, it had been anything but.
"And," Scully went on, "I think Dr. Grey is doing
quite well, considering."
"Considering what? That Kelly is a jackass?"
"That, among other things. Her position may be
reasonable and perfectly scientific" �- high praise
from Scully �- "but it's hardly popular. People are
easily frightened, Mulder. As we both know."
Sighing, Mulder got out two slices of Little Caesar's
Italian sausage for himself and one for his son,
heated them in the microwave and brought them into the
rec room where the television had been set up. The
nice couch was in the living room. *His* couch was in
the rec room. He never spent time in the living room
anyway. "Pizza," he said, and set down Billy's plate
beside him, along with a tippy cup full of "green
juice" -� that is, Tropicana kiwi/white grape flavor.
How the kid drank that stuff escaped Mulder. It
looked vile. But he'd long ago concluded that child
taste buds were a true X-File.
"Mulder!" Scully said from the kitchen table. "Did
you get napkins?"
"Yes, ma'am." And, in a stage whisper to Billy, "Be
careful or Mom'll skin us both."
Billy just blinked up at Mulder, then took plate,
tippy cup and paper towel and -� with exaggerated care
-� brought them in to the coffee table so he could
join his father on the big black leather couch.
Watching him, Mulder wondered idly if their miracle
baby would turn out to have this mutant X-gene. And
if he did? It wouldn't matter to Mulder, but it
wasn't something he'd wish on anyone, especially his
own child, in the current socio-political climate.
There were always reasonable people, but fear made a
ready weapon for the hate-mongers. Given the peculiar
circumstances of Billy's conception and birth, Mulder
had no idea what to expect as his son aged. Already,
the boy showed signs of advanced talents -� better
than average fine-motor skills for a four-year-old,
especially a boy; better than average verbal skills,
especially for a boy. But neither Mulder nor Scully
were average, so why should it surprise if their son
was exceptional, as well? Who needed mutant genes for
that? Or alien DNA, for that matter.
He returned his attention to the television. The
Senate hearings had fast devolved into a rhetoric
platform for Senator Robert Kelly. Dr. Grey had been
silenced, and stood, frustrated, on the speaker's
bema, the podium. She couldn't get a word in
edge-wise. There was much shouting from the floor.
"Jack-ass," Mulder whispered under his breath, then,
louder, "You just know that jerk is going to run for
"Probably," Scully replied from the kitchen table, but
her voice held no interest in pursuing it.
Mulder crossed his arms and sulked in front of the
television. Kelly annoyed him, and he needed a good
argument to release the tension. Scully wasn't giving
him one, and Billy was too young. Mulder sighed
loudly and flipped the channel, listened to Cokie
Roberts analyze first Dr. Grey's points, then Senator
Kelly's points. She was perceptive as always, but it
still bored him because he didn't get to participate.
He flipped to another channel. It showed Dr. Grey
leaving the platform, disgust written all over her
fine features as she exited into the hallway.
Outside, she was assaulted by reporters but turned her
head down and pushed through. There was a young man
waiting to help her keep the reporters at bay. A
pretty boy with model looks and a pair of stylish
red-mirrored sunglasses. Seemed odd for a genetics
researcher to have a bodyguard dressed in GQ-casual.
Abruptly Mulder sat up while his brain did one of its
famed abstract tap-dances across the synapses of his
memory. He knew that face, dammit. He knew that
face. Not Grey's. The man's.
*From where did he know that face?*
It hit him full on just a few moments later when the
good doctor and her companion were met outside at
their limousine by a balding man in a wheelchair.
"Oh, my God . . . ." Mulder said. Then, "*Scully!*"
"You want what?" said the gravelly voice on the other
end of the phone line.
Mulder switched his cell phone from one shoulder to
the other while he sorted laundry. "X-File number
one-seven-four-three. There's a letter in it. I need
"Mulder, you know that releasing material from a
federal case file -� "
"Shove it, John. The letter doesn't belong to the
government. It belongs to Scott Summers. I put it
there for safe-keeping."
"Fine. But you wanna tell me why you're so sure a guy
you saw for �- what, a minute? -� on C-SPAN this
morning is the same kid who went missing nine years
"It's the same kid. I'm sure of it."
A heavy breath from John Doggett on the other end.
"Okay. I'll release the letter. But I'm giving it to
"Doggett -� "
"Don't push me, Mulder. The letter goes to Agent
Scully. You do this her way. You can't just go
busting into these people's lives. If it's been nine
years, don't you think he's contacted his family if he
"Maybe. Maybe not. Consider the current climate for
mutants. If he is a mutant �- and that'd explain a
hell of a lot -� he might not want to have run the
risk. Some kids are getting kicked out by their
natural parents. He was a foster kid."
"So what makes you think his foster parents would want
to talk to him now, if he is a mutant? It was nine
years ago, and as you said, some natural parents are
rejecting their own kids. Myself, I don't get that,
but I know it happens. Wouldn't it be cruel to set
him up to get hurt?"
"It's not going to happen. Trust me."
"Mulder, it really worries me when you say that.
'Trust me' is usually followed by some hare-brained
stunt that gets somebody hurt or almost killed."
"This isn't that kind of situation �- "
"Maybe not. But I'm still giving the letter to Dana.
She's the one with the badge."
"Mulder, please relax. You're twitching like a
long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."
Mulder tried to glare at his wife but couldn't
suppress a grin. After nine years, the hunt was back
on and he stood the width of a single door from his
quarry. He might not have the badge any more, but he
could still feel the thrill. "Knock, Scully."
She sighed and did so. There was a long pause. No
doubt the people beyond weren't expecting visitors.
They counted on hotel security and privacy acts to
protect them from intrepid reporters. And normally,
such things would. Scully's badge jumped a lot of
The door opened. It was Dr. Jean Grey looking a bit
dazed, as if she'd just woken up from a nap. Her
auburn hair was mussed in a tracery of fine webbing
around her face. "Yes?" she asked, cautious. "How
may I help you?"
Scully flipped open her badge. "I'm Special Agent
Dana Scully. This is my husband, and former partner,
Fox Mulder. Could we have a few words with you, Dr.
Grey looked shaken, but opened the door to let them
enter one of the more ritzy suits at the downtown
Hyatt. Thick carpet and forest green curtains. Decor
in tasteful wood. "Of course."
Mulder grinned at her as he passed. She was a stately
woman, pretty in a dignified way, mouth and eyebrows
distinctive and well formed. Maybe a little
stubbornness about the chin. "What is this about?"
she asked as she closed the door.
The best defense is a good offense. Mulder admired
that. "We're here on some very old business," Mulder
said. "A case from nine years ago, in fact."
Grey had tipped her head sideways. "I can't imagine
what that would be."
Scully sighed grandly and elbowed Mulder. "Ignore
him, please. Dr. Grey, this isn't an official
investigation, and we haven't reopened the case.
We've come only because we have some information that
may be of interest to one of your associates. I also
want to say � while I have the opportunity � that I
found your presentation this morning quite
fascinating. I'd love to talk to you some other time
about your research."
"Talk to me about it?" Grey was still wary.
"I'm a medical examiner, and I've worked with some . .
. unusual cases . . . for the Bureau. I'd love to
discuss your research into mutant chromosomes and the
possible ranges of mutant manifestations."
"Ah." Grey was relaxing a little. Trust Scully to
know how to put another woman scientist at ease �-
compliment her research not her dress. Mulder
"For seven years, my husband and I worked together in
a section of the FBI called the X-Files," Scully
continued. "We dealt primarily with cases concerning
"And you've come to talk to me about one of those
cases? You think it might have involved a mutant?"
Mulder's grin widened. "We're fairly sure it involved
a mutant, but actually -� "
"Mulder!" Scully snapped.
He ignored her, " -� we've come to talk to the young
man I saw you with outside the Senate house the
morning. A guy in glasses? Kind of clean-cut? Is he
Grey's face blanched. "Scott? What do you want with
It took every ounce of Mulder's control not to crow in
victory. After nine years, he'd finally tracked down
Scott Summers. And right under his nose in
Washington, too. Beside him, Scully hastened to
assure Grey, "He's not in trouble, doctor. "But we
think he may have been involved in an old case file,
and my husband has some information for him."
Grey sat down on the hotel suite's couch as an older
man in a wheelchair motored out of one of the
ante-rooms. "Agents, please," he said with a faint
smile. "I'm afraid you're alarming Dr. Grey. Jean,
they mean us no harm."
Mulder narrowed his eyes at the man. "Who are you?"
"Mulder!" Scully snapped again. She had a way of
making him feel like an errant child at times.
But the older man just came further into the room,
joining the three of them by the couch. The faint
smile had grown to one of genuine pleasure. "I'm very
pleased to meet you at last, Mr. Mulder. Assistant
Director Skinner has told me a great deal about you.
My name is Charles Xavier, though most of my students
call me Professor X. You've come looking for Scott
Summers, I believe. You have a letter for him."
"How do you know that?" Mulder snapped. Then, "You
were in Omaha, nine years ago, weren't you?"
"Indeed, I was. I apologize, Mr. Mulder, Dr. Scully.
But at the time, it was imperative that I make contact
with Scott without outside interference. He was . . .
in a delicate frame of mind."
"What did you do to me that evening?" Scully asked,
frowning. Mulder knew that look and usually sought
cover when it showed up.
""Absolutely nothing permanent, I assure you. It
would be very much against my ethics. But I was born
with certain gifts." Then, continuing in Mulder and
Scully's heads, *Like Scott Summers, I, too, am a
"My God -� " Mulder muttered, unsure if he was more
alarmed, or more delighted. After all, he'd been
briefly telepathic himself, even if it had nearly
fried his synapses. Whatever the case, he found
himself grinning at full wattage.
"So you were the one who had Skinner call us off the
case and close it down."
"Yes," said Xavier, "I am sorry but it was critical
that the case be closed and left unresolved. There
were entirely too many people interested in you at the
time, Mr. Mulder. I had to deflect any attention from
Scott. He was already being pursued by a man named
Jack Winters, another mutant -� but one inclined to
use his mutation for harm. He had read about Scott's
mutation manifestation and was on the hunt to use him
for his own criminal purposes."
"You realize his foster parents were worried �- "
"Scott writes to them once a month," Jean Grey
interrupted. "They know he's fine."
"So he doesn't need this." Mulder fished out
Elizabeth Franklin's old letter -� a little yellowed
now -� from his raincoat and held it up.
"Ah, but he does, Mr. Mulder," Xavier said, smiling a
bit enigmatically. That smile could start to get on a
guy's nerves, Mulder decided, even as the letter
lifted itself out of Mulder's fingers and floated
across to the hand of Jean Grey.
She was smiling, too. "My mutation."
"I should have guessed," Mulder said. "Or guessed
that you were all mutants, in any case."
"Does that bother you?"
"No," Scully said firmly from Mulder's side. She'd
been keeping mostly silent, observing. "But if Scott
keeps in touch with his family �- "
" -� why would he need the letter?" Xavier completed
her question. He glanced at Grey, who'd risen to take
the letter over to her briefcase -� "Jean, a moment"
�- then his eyes flicked back to Scully. "Because
while he writes to them faithfully, he refuses to put
a return address on the envelope. I think it time for
Scott to quit running from his past." Mulder could
see that Grey's back had stiffened. She clearly
wasn't comfortable talking about Summers this way
behind his back. From that, and a few other clues -�
not to mention the diamond on her finger -� Mulder was
fairly sure that Scott Summers was more to her than a
sometimes bodyguard and fellow staff member at this
private prep school that Xavier had told them about
and which he directed. It was a subtle affection, but
Mulder knew personally just how deep that kind could
run. Grey would protect Summers by choosing the time
and place to give him the letter.
And Xavier was not going to let her get away with it.
"Please bring that back, Jean. It's not yours to
deliver. Mrs. Franklin entrusted it to Mr. Mulder,
and I think he should be the one to give it to Scott."
Grey spun around. "Professor �- " But she didn't go
further. The two of them stared hard at one another a
few minutes, and Mulder exchanged a glance with
Scully. Was Xavier speaking to Grey telepathically?
Mulder could see that Scully was wondering the same
thing. Then again, maybe they didn't need telepathy.
Maybe they simply knew one another very well �- the
same way Mulder knew Scully.
In any case, Grey's lips had gone thin in annoyance,
but she brought the letter back to Mulder and handed
it over without any display of mutant abilities. A
mark of her reluctance to let go of it.
"When will Mr. Summers be back?" Mulder asked as he
"He won't," Xavier said, and Mulder jerked his head
"Scott went back to Westchester," Grey said, sitting
down. "He drove to DC last night, so he could be with
me this morning, but he can't leave the school for
long and he went back right after we had lunch."
Xavier had been resting elbows on the arms of his
wheelchair, and now folded his hands in front of him.
"Scott runs the school in my absence, you see �-
although in truth, he runs it most of the time." He
smiled faintly, a smile that Grey echoed more fully.
"Forgive me, a slight private joke. Scott's
organizational talents are famous �- or infamous,
depending on whom you ask. But the school simply
would not function without him. I am too often
occupied with other matters, and he is effectively our
headmaster even though my name is still on the school
brochure. I should probably change that one of these
"You should," Grey said and Mulder had the impression
that she was using his and Scully's presence as covert
cover to deliver an overdue nudge.
"So," Mulder said, holding up the envelope and getting
back around to the main point. "If you want me to
deliver this, just how am I supposed to do so if he's
not here?" But truth was, he wanted to deliver it,
wanted finally to meet the elusive Scott Summers
"By coming to Westchester, Mr. Mulder. Jean and I
shall ourselves return tomorrow morning �- I fear that
we have accomplished all here that we currently can.
It would be my pleasure to show you both around
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, if you and
Agent Scully would care to accompany us back to New
York. Given your interests, I believe you would find
it quite . . . educational. And," he added, glancing
at Scully, "it would give Dr. Scully a chance to
discuss research with Dr. Grey." He smiled warmly.
"The two of them can cloister themselves in the
basement with the microscopes while the rest of us
enjoy the sun, tulips, and hyacinth in the garden."
Mulder chuckled, because Scully and Grey had each
turned beet red, and in both cases, it clashed with
End part II 2a/2
I'll post parts 2b and 2c as soon as I am able
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