Hole in the Black by PD ARCHIVAL: Gossamer, no thanks. Stories will be housed at my site only. If you'd like to link, I'd love it, but please drop me note with a heads up. DISCLAIMER: Can I borrow the keys to the franchise, Chris? I won't go to any FBI balls, I promise to make a full stop at most clichés‚ and I will try not to dangle my participles at the nice couple in the unremarkable house. CLASSIFICATION: SRA, MSR, IWTB, TMI, ASAP RATING: R SPOILERS: Through The X Files: I Want To Believe SUMMARY: "I wasn't in the group, Mr. Mulder. I was a tangential part of the project - in league with those few who were adamant on the subject of developing an antidote and a vaccine. He was our man on the inside, but we were not on the side of complicity with the colonists and that meant we were on the outside. Fringe element. We were not highly regarded. We weren't even invited to the group barbecues." He caught himself and smiled. "Ah. No pun intended." ~ Chapter 3 ~ Office of Assistant Director for Administration FBI Headquarters Washington D.C. Mulder and Scully sat beside one another in Assistant Director Clarke's outer office and silently took in the surroundings - the foot traffic in the hall outside (they each recognized the occasional face), the sounds, the smell. It wasn't actually pleasant; it felt more like an unappealing, but ultimately painless commitment as opposed to the dreaded, doom-filled event that was their last visit. Despite the assurances, despite the absence of gunplay and cuffs, they were both still nervous, and Mulder's right leg bounced up and down at a clip, jiggling the row of chairs on either side of them. Every few moments, Scully would reach out and still his leg with a touch of her hand on his knee and a few moments later, his leg would begin bouncing again. "Mulder," she whispered, and he stopped once again. "Sorry," he sighed and glanced at his watch. "How long have we been sitting here?" "Not that long. Relax." At that moment, Assistant Director Clarke poked his head out his door. If he recognized the dear-in-headlights look worn by both former agents as their heads snapped up, he gave no indication. He nodded at them. "Dr. Scully, Mr. Mulder. Please come in." Mulder and Scully rose and moved toward the door and Assistant Director Clarke's outstretched hand. They both shook it as they entered his office. "Nice to see you, both," Clarke said. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Please have a seat," he said and gestured to the conference table. Already seated was a man serving as a court reporter of sorts. Mulder and Scully acknowledged him and sat down at the table. "I must say," Clarke said, sitting. "I'm glad we're finally getting this done." "I am, too," Mulder said and at that moment, Scully was uncommonly proud of him. There was very little venom in his voice. Clarke nodded to the man taking notes. "This is Agent Knox. He'll be doing the transcript for us. We'll note at this time that seated with us is Dr. Dana Scully and Mr. Fox Mulder. I am Assistant Director Edward Clarke. Agent Robert Knox is performing transcript services today. I'll remind you that this is going to be the official record of the incident, Mr. Mulder, that culminated in your subsequent disappearance and in Dr. Scully's termination from the FBI -" he looked at Scully, "which will of course become an official resignation and not the termination that occurred in absentia in 2002." "Yes, sir," Scully said. Clarke smiled. "I have to get that all into the record. Please relax. We won't be pulling teeth, here. Can we get you some coffee?" They declined and once again, Clarke nodded to Agent Knox. "Mr. Mulder," Clarke began, "briefly, you had officially been terminated by Director Alvin Kersch, uh," he glanced at his own notes, "May, 2001. Mr. Kersch resigned early 2005 which is why he is not present here today, but in November, 2004, he had made addenda to the record as to his reasons for your dismissal. The amendments to his report, in his own words, 'cast serious doubt upon the legitimacy of the dismissal itself.' He acknowledged some grievous errors on his part. Because of this, your termination will now be considered resignation and will be dated as of your - disappearance - in May, 2002." Scully and Mulder glanced at each other, clearly surprised at the level of revisionism going on. They turned back to AD Clarke as he continued to speak and refer to his notes. "These changes in both your records will now guarantee your early retirement pension and all monies owed you from uncollected salaries and benefits through 2002." Clarke glanced up at them and turned to Mulder who was not quite smiling, but obviously surprised. "Mr. Mulder. Feeling better about our meeting today?" Mulder grinned and cocked his head. "It's not over yet." Clarke smiled and chuckled through is nose. "Paranoid as ever, Mulder. If you would, please, recount for us the relevant points of what happened on that day at Mt. Weather." Mulder nodded. "I'll be - as brief as I can." He cleared his throat and true to his word, recited concise bullet points rather than a rambling story of intrigue, deception and alien invasion. He entered Mt. Weather - yes, under false pretenses - when he was anonymously presented with a keycard that gained him access. While at a computer terminal gathering information, he was discovered by Knowle Rohrer who reacted violently and threw him through a tempered glass screen. At that point, he ran and was chased deeper into the bowels of the complex. Cornered at a railing overlooking high voltage lines in the facility, Mr. Rohrer attempted to push Mulder over the side. Not having any desire to die and not considering the ramifications of his next actions, Mulder gained the upper hand in the brawl and sent his assailant to his "death." Mulder's only hint that there was more to the story was a smirk and air quotes as he noted Knowle Rohrer's condition after plunging over the side of the railing. "After that," Mulder said, "I was jailed and coerced by way of intimidation and physical violence into admitting my guilt. Cue the military tribunal and a long litany of incidents that had, really, nothing to do with what happened to Knowle Rohrer. He tried to kill me, but he died trying. Again, you know, 'died' being a relative term." Scully smiled at that and released a long held breath. Unless Mulder planned to go into uncalled-for details, that was the end of the story. She glanced at him and could see that he was finished. She offered him a brief, telepathic thank you. Clarke looked at Agent Knox. "Get all that?" "Yes, sir." "Please note for the record that all charges against Mr. Mulder for the previously cited incident have been dropped and that the Department of Justice will issue a retraction of charges and a pardon in writing within six weeks - uh, strike that. The Department of Justice will issue a letter bearing an official seal expunging Mr. Mulder's record with regard to this incident." He glanced at them. "A pardon would be appropriate had the charges and methods of acting on them been legitimate. They obviously were not. "At any rate," he said with a breath of relief, "I think that about does it." His eyes swiveled back and forth between Mulder and Scully. "Are you satisfied that this has been resolved?" "I think I'd like that letter from the DOJ," Mulder said. "But, yes, I think I am." He turned to Scully. "Are you satisfied, Dr. Scully?" She turned to Clarke, nodding. "Thank you, sir. I wasn't expecting something this - expeditious." Clarke nodded in understanding; there were few government agencies noted for their alacrity. "The FBI deeply regrets the misfortune to which you were subjected. That's the party line. Personally, I'm sorry as hell this happened. And I'm happy, Mr. Mulder, to have you working for us again even if it is as a civilian in a consultative capacity. You're suited to this work." "Thank you, sir," Mulder said shaking Clarke's hand. Clarke stood and offered it to Scully, as well. "Yes, thank you. We're very grateful," she said. Clarke nodded, turned to Mulder and allowed a grin to break through. His eyes sparkled. "Come into the light, Mulder. All are welcome." "Oh," Mulder said with a grin and turned to Scully. "Little Poltergeist joke," he said and Clarke chuckled. "Sorry," Clarke said, amused at himself. "Nobody else would get that." A very brief, but nonetheless, uncomfortable silence blanketed the office. "Well," said Clarke. "That about wraps it up." He smiled again. "Would you like to take the tour?" ~:~:~ Saturday, April 12th Mulder's and Scully's House Rural Virginia He heard her footsteps on the stairs. "Who would've thought that it would be easier to come back from the dead than it is to get the IRS to acknowledge a new tax status," Mulder called out. She stepped into his lair to find him shuffling papers, booklets and his coffee cup around the surface of his desk. "Well, the situation is unique. Slow going?" "Like lava, Scully, only not as pleasant." "Why don't we just get a tax attorney to take care of it? Save you a headache." "Nope. It's a mission now," he said, scribbling on a form. "A quest." Scully smiled. She stepped behind him and touched the top of his head, affectionately sifting his hair through her fingers. "Watch out for windmills." She leaned over and kissed his temple. "I'll see you tonight. Leftovers, take- out or do you want to cook?" He looked up at her and smiled. "We have eggs. I'll make omelets." She smiled. "I promise, I'll cook tomorrow," she said. "Oh. I left you some links to look at," she said indicating his computer. "Anything good?" he asked with a smirk. "Hawaii," she said. "Places to stay, rates, times. Look hard at the one on Kauai in Hanalei." "Will do," he said "Good luck with the taxes," she offered and left the room. Mulder smiled, and he heard the front door open and close. He returned to shuffling his papers. "If they don't get you with a trumped up murder charge and a kangaroo court, they get you with Line H, Box 5," he said loudly to the room. "They call me crazy," he mumbled. "Forms out my ass... Miscreants." Mulder's vibrating cell phone danced across his papers. He picked up his coffee, leaned back in his chair and connected the call. "Bring home mushrooms and you can have your way with me after dinner." "Fox Mulder?" Mulder's coffee cup stopped as it reached his lips. It was a man. Something about the tone. Something about the question in the voice. Something. Plus no one had this number, but Scully. He engaged his brain. "How did you get this number?" "I - sorry? I don't - from, no, from my -," the man attempted. Finally, "I'd rather not say," he said. "Is this Fox Mulder?" "Hm. I'd rather not say." Silence. "Yes, fair enough. Let me cut to the chase, Mr. Mulder. I have your son."