A Birthday Card | By : mayonaka Category: Gundam Wing/AC > General Views: 674 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Mulder tried to relax during his enforced time off, he really did. "One week," Skinner had warned him. "One solid week, I don't want to see you anywhere near my office, your office, Scully's office, field investigns, ns, the morgue... I mean it, Fox. You're ragged out, and you won't be any good to us at all if you don't get some goddam rest."
But, well, work was what he did. He spent a couple of days mostly sleeping, which was damn unusual, considering his insomnia. Maybe he did need this time off, if he was so exhausted that he could sleep ten and twelve hours at a time. He hadn't done that in years. But between the bouts of sleeping... what?
The Lone Gunmen had a certain amount of entertainment value but they were off limits, too closely associated with work. Fox didn't want to risk Skinner imposing another week of 'vacation' on him. Scully had found someone to keep her occupied in her free hours, at least for the present. Fox just didn't have a wide range of friends and acquaintanceormaormally that didn't bother him too much--he kept busy. But now...
He rented some videos and spent another day bingeing on pornography and delivery pizza. Many people would have been amazed at how clean his kitchen was for a bachelor. The fact was he never really used it. Oh, he made coffee and heated up the occasional take out leftovers, but he'd never really had to clean the oven or stove because they never had the opportunity to get dirty.
By Thursday, he had read all thgazigazines in his apartment twice. When he found himself inking in all the 'O's in an issue of Hustler he knew he had to do something. As long as he stayed away from any official Bureau investigation he should be okay, so he considered his options by digging into his mental Rumors file.
There was that supposed psychic helping the police on a string of babysitter killings that looked like someone was taking the Halloween movies way too seriously. But that was an ongoing police investigation and the FBI could be called in at any moment.
Then he remembered one intriguing possibility. He'd overheard another agent in the cafeteria talking about a guy he'd worked with in Washington on a terrorist case: a police detective named Jim Ellison. This Ellison must be good. Mulder had enough experience to know that contact with the local law enforcement was not pursued very energetically, despite the PR. For a local detective to take an active, even prominent role, in such an investigation was unusual to say the least. The reason he'd been included was right up X Files alley.
During his military career Ellison had spent eighteen months on his own in the jungles of Peru, defending a territory and awaiting transport. The very fact that he had survived was amazing, and the ordeal had blessed, or cursed, him with acutely attuned physical senses. According to the information he could glean, this Ellison had hypersensitive taste, smell, sight, hearing, and touch. The agent claimed that they were so strong that they practically amounted to the fabled sixth sense. But the abilities came with a price. Ellison ran the risk of losing control of his abilities and being consumed by sensory overload, zoning out. He had to work with a partner who functioned as his anchor, keeping him grounded and in control.
Ellison was on the Cascade police force now. That would be worth a trip out there, Mulder thought. If he'd agree, it would be interesting to watch him work. He might be willing. His dealings with the Bureau had been pretty civil, so Mulder took the chance. He got the number of the Cascade Police Station from the operator, and dialed long distance.
"Cascade Police Department, how may I direct your call?"
"Detective Jim Ellison, Major Crimes, please."
"One moment."
There were the clicks that accompany interoffice call transfers. After a couple of rings, the phone was picked up. "Desk of Detective Jim Ellison. What can I do ya for?"
Mulder was taken aback. The voice sounded pretty young and breezy for a seasoned police detective. "Detective Ellison?"
"The Big Guy is in the can right now, he'll be back in a minute, unless he's fighting with that burrito he insisted on having for lunch. I'm his partner, Blair Sandburg. Can I be of help?"
"Maybe you can, Detective Sandburg."
"Oh, I'm not a detective. I'm not a police man. I get reminded of that time and time and time again. I'm officially an observer and consultant, but I'd put my title as Guide, or Shaman. Ya see, in the ancient tribal cultures, there have always been certain individuals who were blessed with the duty of protecting the tribe, and they had their Guides to help them, so Jim and I..."
There was a scuffling in the background, and a yelp. A gruffer voice came on the phone. "Sorry about that. He has a tendency to rattle on. Jim Ellison, here. Who am I speaking to?"
Well, this one believed in getting down to the meat of the situation. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder."
"Feebe, huh?" There was no derision in the nickname.
"Something I can help the Bureau with?"
"No, not exactly. This is more of a personal matter."
"I'm listening."
"It's a little hard to explain. I operate in a branch investigating what we call the X files."
It sounded like someone had snapped their fingers. "Yeah, Gordon told me about that." Gordon had been the agent in charge of the terrorist investigation. "You must be Spooky Mulder."
Fox almost groaned at the despised nickname. He heard Blair Sandburg yammering excitedly in the background--something about the mystical connections of South American tribes and the Anasazi. Apparently Gordon had really run his mouth. "Shut up, Blair. I can hear him over you, but you know it pisses me off to have to filter you out. Hey, Mulder, sorry about the 'Spooky' thing. It won't happen again."
"That's all right."
"No it isn't. That name pisses you off. Just say so."
"I didn't say the name pisses me off."
"You didn't have to. Your heart rate did." Fox was silent. "I know you're still there. You don't need my senses to hear you breathing. That's why you called, isn't it? My Sentinel abilities? You have a case you need help on?"
"No, not a case. I was just wondering... This is sort of a personal interest of mine. I have some time off, and I wondered if you'd consider..."
"Just a second." The sound was muffled, as if a hand was held over the mouthpiece. He could only make out occasional words, spoken by two different voices. "...wants to know if... up to you... sounds nice enough... sure, been a long time... what the hell... always send him to... okay..." Ellison came back on the line. "Why don't you come up and spend some time with me and my partner? Get a look at how this works, and how we oper"
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