Title: Twist
Author: fran58

headers in part one

Twist part three

Mid-morning on Friday, Mulder’s wife stopped in to see Scully in her
office.  She had other business in the Hoover Building, she explained.
Scully didn’t ask what the other business was.

Karen was tall and dark haired.   Scully wondered briefly if the whole
world had been given growth hormones when she hadn’t been paying
attention.  Other than the height, Karen Levy was not what Scully had
expected.  She was rounder, softer and less dangerous than the woman she
had imagined.  She was Mulder’s age, maybe a few years older, and had a
pleasant face and an equally pleasant disposition.  So pleasant in fact,
after a few minutes conversation, it was difficult for Scully not to
like  her.

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Ms. Levy.”  Scully’s voice sounded
canned to her own ears.  “I saw him last Saturday – haven’t heard from
him since.”

“Well, I’m sorry to take up your time.  I just thought...”  Her voice
dropped off and she slid back in her chair.  “It’s just that I can’t
figure out where he’d go.  If he’s going to be gone a few days, he
usually lets me know.”

“You said you came back early from your trip, maybe he just didn’t think
it was necessary.”  Scully suggested.

Karen nodded, distracted.  “Could be.”  She shrugged.  “I was hoping to
track him down, I guess.  I tried his friend Frohike, and then thought
of you.  I know how close the two of you were.”

“Until just recently, I hadn’t seen or heard from him in almost two
years.”

Karen nodded again, picking at her slacks, then smoothing the same spot
down.  Not looking at Scully she asked.  “If you do hear from him, tell
him I was here?”

“Of course.”

Karen rose and smiled softly at Scully.  “Thanks for your time.  I
really appreciate it.  I know how busy you must be.”

“No problem.  Really.”  Scully rose also, and walked Karen to the door.

Then the office was silent.  The other woman’s presence a mere
intangible memory.

********************

Shortly before quitting time, there was an “incident” as Scully liked to
think of it.  Agent Pittman had returned to the office to find his hard
drive wiped.  Now, in a rare display of temper, he was shouting at Agent
Lawson about inappropriate behavior.

Agent Mike Davies, Pittman’s partner, moved his stout body through the
maze of cubicles toward Scully’s office just as she came to the door.
She gave him a questioning look and he shrugged.

Mike Davies was as seasoned as Pittman was green.  Scully liked and
respected him.  He had, much to her amazement, requested  his assignment
on the X-Files shortly after Mulder’s resignation.  As he explained to a
surprised Scully at the time, he was tired of ‘playing with the normal
boys’ and wanted a chance to finish his career doing something
‘interesting’.  What he lacked in imagination he made up for in
perseverance and dedication.  Pittman, on the other hand, was nothing if
not imaginative.  He eerily reminded Scully of Mulder at certain times.

“Pittman’s computer was wiped.  Says it was fine when he went out and
now it isn’t.”

“Who was up here?  Did anyone see anything?”

Davies shook his head.  “Alan went out before lunch.  Place was deserted
part of the afternoon.  Anyone could have come up here.  It isn’t like
it’s a secured area or anything.”

“No, it isn’t.”  She jerked her head toward the cubicles.  “Why is
Pittman so upset with Agent Lawson?”

“Ah, that.  Lawson’s just giving it to Alan.  Knows how to get his
goat.  Alan thought Lawson was too cavalier about the whole computer
situation.  Then Lawson began making what Alan says were ‘inappropriate
comments.’

Before Davies could answer, Sheila Samski from Accounting caught sight
of them from the hall.  She veered over to the door and popped her head
inside.

“I’ve got some questions for you and Agent Pittman about the last
expense reports you turned in.  Could you and your partner stop in and
see me tomorrow around ten or so?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll send Alan down like I did last time.  Will that
work?”  Mike asked.

Sheila’s lips curled up in a satisfied smile.  “That would be perfect.
Thanks.”  She shifted her eyes to where Pittman and Lawson were arguing,
then turned.  The quick clip of her heels could be heard as she
continued down the hall.

“God, I never know a woman so obsessed with minutiae.  I swear, if Alan
forgets to dot an ‘i’ she has to check it out with him.”

Scully smiled.  “I know the type.  Mulder and I used to run into the
same thing.”  She shifted her position against the frame of her door
trying to ease the crick in her upper back.  “So what were Lawson’s
inappropriate comments about?”

“Mmm, that would be ‘who were his inappropriate comments about.’”
Davies gave her a pointed look.

Scully sighed and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose.  “I
wish Alan wouldn’t take these things to heart.”

Mike Davies leaned in toward her.  “He’s a good kid – a nice boy.  His
grandmother probably told him that making those kinds of comments about
ladies was highly improper.  I know my wife would wash both our sons’
mouths out if they came up with stuff like that.  Want me to break it up
for you?  I wouldn’t mind busting Lawson’s butt a bit.”

“Be my guest.”

Mike winked at her.  “You got it, boss.”

Scully returned to her office and picked up the handset of her telephone
to call IT about Pittman’s computer.  Halfway through dialing, she
stopped, depressed the switch hook, and dialed a different number.

“Hey, Frohike, it’s me.  I have a favor – something for you guys to take
a look at.”

********************

“Your better half called.  Frohike talked with her.  You really got a
knack for pissing people off.”  The greeting was clipped and not what
Mulder expected.

“Just say what you mean, Langly, don’t hold back on me.”  Mulder entered
the darkened interior of the Gunmen’s building, stopping a moment inside
the door to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dimness.  “Did she say
what she wanted?”

Langly snorted.  “Yeah, oddly enough, you.  Are you planning on ditching
her, too?”

Mulder worked at keeping his tone even.  “She was out of town and not
due back until tomorrow.  I didn’t leave a message at home because I
didn’t think I needed to.  Not that it’s actually any of your business.”

“Frohike’s in there,” Langly muttered and motioned vaguely with his left
hand.  Mulder watched as the back of Langly’s T-shirt declaring
‘Microsoft Sucks’ disappeared into the gloom and jumbled wires of the
main room.

“Actually, Frohike isn’t here.”

Mulder started slightly and turned to face Byers.  His voice and been
soft, almost cordial.

“Actually, that’s okay.  I wanted to talk with you,”  Mulder replied.

“Me?”

“Frohike said you and Scully are ‘buds’,” Mulder said.  Byers nodded.
“Is there somewhere to talk?  I have some – questions and concerns,” he
continued trying his best to appear sincere and non-threatening.

“Yeah, sure, come into my parlor,”  Byers said with a hint of amusement
in his voice as he turned and ambled back the way he had come.  He led
Mulder past the area where Langly was hunkered down, busily pounding a
keyboard.  Little blips of sound emanated from two tiny but, Mulder was
sure, very expensive speakers wedged on either side of the monitor in
front of Langly. They threaded their way around a table containing a
partially disassembled phone switch, cables and circuitry mingling with
a half eaten cheeseburger.

Byers stopped abruptly at a dark green door.  The paint was coming off
in long thin strips, leaving the brownish grey of the original wood
peeking through.

“Welcome to my sanctuary,” he said twisting the knob and pushing the
door open.

Byer’s room was spare.  It contained a bed, a wardrobe, a rack of free
standing shelves and a desk with a surprisingly intricate stained glass
lamp.

Mulder moved to the desk and studied the lamp.  Its geometric shapes
were precisely done, almost delicate.  He was sure the base was solid
brass, and ran a finger along the bottom, noting the lack of dust.
“Nice,” he said.

“Thanks.  Scully gave it to me.  She said it looked like me.”

Surprised and suddenly self-conscious, Mulder pulled his had back and
stuffed it into his pants pocket.  He grunted and said quickly, “So she
thinks you’re a bright boy?”

Byers ignored the lame attempt at humor, gestured to the desk chair and
sat down on the edge of the bed.  “What can I do for you, Mulder?”

Mulder pulled the desk chair out.  “How close are you and Scully,
exactly?  How well have you gotten to know her?”

Byers shrugged.  “Pretty well, I’d say.”

“How well do you know Leo?”

“Not as well.  Why?”

“Have you ever noticed any violent tendencies?  Any overly aggressive
behavior on his part?”

“Not really.”

Mulder chewed on the inside of his cheek, pursing his lips as he got up
and paced the length of the little room.  “What about Scully?  She ever
seemed afraid of him?”

Byers let out a short surprised laugh.  “No, she has never seemed afraid
of him, Mulder.  *Why*?”

“Because she has a line of bruises up the inside of each arm, that’s
why.”

Byers frowned.  “Bruises.  She could have gotten them from almost
anything.”

“Not these bruises.  They looked like marks from fingers, as if someone
grabbed her.”  Mulder paused.  “There were thumb marks, too.”

“Maybe she just bruises easily.”

“Not that easily.”

“Have you asked Scully?”

Mulder snorted.  “Yeah, in the car the Saturday before last.  She was so
angry with me I thought she was going to drive off the road.  She
basically told me to go fuck myself.”

“Maybe you should take her advice and stay out of it.”

Exasperation picked at Mulder.  Something was off, and he couldn’t quite
put a name to what.  Byers was still sitting on the edge of his neatly
made bed looking unperturbed.

Mulder let his eyes roam around the room.  They came to rest on a line
of books.  He walked over to the shelves and glanced at them.  Nothing
struck him as out of the ordinary; Newton’s Telecomm Dictionary, The
Guide to Fiber Optic Terms, various books relating to computer networks,
a thesaurus and a few other reference books.  He could feel Byers shift
restlessly on the bed behind him.  Time to try another tack.

Mulder turned toward Byers, studiously casual.  “I can’t stay out of
it.  I’m concerned about Scully.  I know you and Langly and Frohike
think Leo is a good guy, and I know you think I’m a shit.  But you have
to believe me when I say that I care about Scully’s well-being and about
what happens to her.”

“Answer me this, Mulder.  Why did you cut her off cold?  I don’t
understand that.  She doesn’t understand that.  The fact that she is
even remotely polite to you is a testament to her character.”

Mulder sighed.  He didn’t want to get into it, but the subject looked
unavoidable.  “When she left that summer, things between us were not the
best.  It was probably a wise decision on her part to put some space
between us, but I didn’t see it that way then.”  He began pacing the
room, crossing it in four long strides.  “It wasn’t too long after she
left that I suffered a set back resulting from my unplanned brain
surgery earlier in the year.  I was hospitalized – I missed Scully
acutely.  I...”  Mulder glanced at Byers who nodded to him.  He didn’t
like to remember that summer.  It had been a painful, confusing time.
Mulder took a breath, collecting himself.  “I was without a reference
point.  Everything felt like it was under water.  I don’t know how much
that had to do with what was happening to me physically, or
emotionally.  It was probably a combination of both.

That was when I met Karen.  She and I have a friend in common, and at
his urging she stopped in to see me.  She was working as a counselor for
a rehab center at the time.  I guess he thought she might do me some
good.”

“And did she?”  Byers asked.

Mulder smiled faintly.  “Yeah, I guess she did.  I began feeling less
desperate.  Her visits were unofficial, so we mostly talked about our
interests, current events – stuff like that.”

Mulder sighed.  “I hadn’t heard much from Scully – just a short letter
and a couple postcards.  I hadn’t written back even though she had
included a return address.  Karen urged me to contact her, so I had this
big idea that I would phone Scully and surprise her.”  Mulder
self-consciously rattled the keys in his pocket.  “That’s when I found
out she was –  involved – with someone while she was in Ireland.  What
killed me was the injustice.  I was laying in a hospital bed, and she
was *fucking* around, unconcerned, on the other side of the ocean.”  His
anger was palpable in the room.  Byers shifted back a bit on the bed.

“In all fairness, Mulder, she couldn’t have known you were in the
hospital since you hadn’t told her.”  Byers voice was mild, soothing.

“I know, I know.  But at the time, it tore me apart.  I was close to
going over the edge anyhow, and this could have been the final push...”

“But?”  Byers supplied.

“But Karen was there.”  Mulder shrugged.  “My relationship with Scully
had always been complicated, at best.  The reason I didn’t ask her to
the wedding, the reason I couldn’t let myself contact her was because I
was on the edge: I was walking a fine line with Karen and my own
stability.  Karen was, *is*, steady, caring -- a comfort to have
around.  I may have been too hasty when I asked her to marry me, but at
the time I think it saved me.”

“When Scully couldn’t save you,”  said Byers.  “So what’s your concern?”

“I think Leo may be abusing Scully.”

“Oh, God, you’ve got to be joking.”  Byers swiveled his gaze in Mulder’s
direction.  “You’re not, are you?”  Mulder shook his head.  “I can
assure you, Mulder, that nothing like that is going on.”

“But those bruises, and the fortune teller intimated...”

“Fortune teller?  A fortune teller told you Scully was being abused?
Mulder.”  Byers shook his head.

“Not exactly.  Just -- never mind about the fortune teller.  Those
bruises were put there by someone’s hands.”  Mulder dropped back into
the chair by the desk.  One hand pinched the bridge of his nose, the
other dangled loosely by his side.

Eyes closed, he could hear Byers move off the bed and stand, then sit
again.  When Byers spoke his voice was almost inaudible.

“Mulder – I don’t know how to say this exactly, but you just have to
believe me when I say that I don’t think you need to be concerned.
Scully isn’t doing anything she doesn’t want to.  Trust me on this,
okay?  But if you can’t, then I think you need to talk to her about it,
since it’s really none of my business.”

“She won’t talk to me about it.  She made that clear.”  Mulder opened
his eyes and looked at Byers.  His voice held an almost pleading note.
“Please tell me what you know.  I’m not going to feel easy until I know
for sure she isn’t in danger.”

“Mulder, I can’t.  I...”  Byers sighed heavily.  “Scully –  if she
wanted you to know, she would have told you.  All I can say is that I’m
pretty sure nothing is happening to her that she doesn’t want to
happen.”

“Like what, Byers?”

Byers was on his feet, almost in pantomime of Mulder, pacing back and
forth in the small room.  “This is really, really, none of your
business.”

“But it’s yours?  Come on, Byers!  What the hell could be so hard to
say?  What deep, dark secret do you know that I don’t?”

“Mulder, there are personal things about Scully that most people don’t
know.  You’re no different than anyone else in that respect.”

“But you are?”

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

“Spill it, Byers.”  Mulder said tightly.  He stood up quickly, his body
stiff with anger.

“I’ve noticed that with Scully, things get a bit out of hand sometimes.
When... well, people can get hurt.  That’s all I’m going to say.”
Abruptly, Byers turned and swung the door open, leaving Mulder behind in
the neat little room, still wondering what the hell was going on and how
Byers had come to have so much inside information.

cont'd in part four