Aftermath: Part Five
by Callista
Part Five

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MULDER'S RENTED APARTMENT
0637 HOURS

*The little man picked up his suitcase and shoved his way through the people clustered below the TV screen. He inconspicuously deposited something microscopic on Scully's jacket, then hurried on his way*

Mulder woke up with a start. 'That was a weird dream' he thought to himself. He wondered what the little man had to do with Scully. He was troubled by the little thing left on her jacket in his dream. But then again, it was only a dream, nothing to worry about or take seriously. Unless you were him.

He checked his watch. "Almost seven," he said aloud. He pulled himself out of bed, and into a pair of jogging pants and an old t-shirt that had a hole in the shoulder. Just because he was supposed to be dead didn't mean he wasn't going to get out of shape. It was a small town, no one knew him, and at this hour in the summer, any sane person would still be sleeping.

Mulder opened his door and was greeted with Californian sunshine and a nice breeze. Perfect weather for jogging.

He started off at a slow pace, building up speed as his muscles warmed up. Soon he was running full out, past the school and through the residential area.

He was right, most people were asleep, but a few were up, working. Two of those people were Jenny Calendar and Rupert Giles. Giles had arrived at Ms. Calendar's house earlier to discuss the strange e-mail she had received the night before, telling of an upcoming event in Slayer prophesy. Giles was peeking out between Ms. Calendar's blinds, watching Mulder run by.

"Ms. Calendar, who is that queer man running by outside? I don't believe I know him, yet he looks strangely familiar."

Ms. Calendar walked over and looked out beside Giles. "Hmmm... I don't know, I've never seen him here. He's kind of cute though..." she paused as she saw Rupert's face change color slightly. Smiling to herself, she continued, "He might just be passing by, or he might be a part of that carnival that's stopping here. Which reminds me Rupert, are you busy two days from now?" She smiled at him, a smile she knew he couldn't resist.

Giles was caught off guard, and the smile completely disarmed him. "Well, no..."

Ms. Calendar smiled again. "Good, will you go to the Carnival with me?"

Giles studied her face for a minute, then finally said, "did you just say what I think you said?" Ms. Calendar nodded. Giles allowed himself a broad smile. "It would be my pleasure to accompany you to the Carnival Ms. Calendar."

"Jenny, please"

"Very well then, Jenny"


* * *
Across town, Xander was turning over in his sleep.

* The FBI agent and his partner ran across the grounds, guns drawn. The FBI woman yelled something to the man, who yelled back. The FBI man's eyes opened wide in astonishment at what he saw before him. The partner saw nothing though, and the man yelled at her to watch out, before he ran out in front of her and holstered his gun, raising his arms above his head pointing to the sky, fingers splayed out, and then...*

Xander Harris woke up. 'Whoa that was weird' he instantly thought. 'Got to stop watching those chase movies before I go to sleep'

Xander trudged down the stairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He made his way over to a cupboard in the kitchen, and pulled out the only solid food in the house; a box of Capt'n Crunch cereal. He meandered over to the fridge and pulled out some milk. He absently poured the cereal and the milk into a bowl, then got himself a spoon. He was still puzzling over his weird dream, pondering what it's significance was. He knew it was important to someone in someway. He filed it away in his mind. The answer would come to him in time. He carried his breakfast over to the den, and settled himself in to watch the morning cartoons.


* * *
The lit end of a cigarette glowed brightly, tiny pieces of ash falling off, as the smoker inhaled. Already, his ashtray was half full with smoke stubs. He looked around the room, seeing aged faces that were etched in his mind. He knew next to nothing about these people, and they knew nothing about him, yet here they met frequently.

They had met to discuss FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder, and his supposed death in his apartment two weeks ago. Unbeknownst to Scully and the local authorities, the FBI had done a full work up on blood taken from the body in Mulder's apartment. The results had just come back. It wasn't him.

The Well-Manicured man finished reading the report and scowled. "Gentlemen, we have a situation. It seems our dear friend Mr. Mulder isn't dead as we were made to believe. It is imperative that we know his location immediately. The dead man was a Department of Defense spy, working directly for our DOD liaison. That body needs to be incinerated promptly, and all traces of our involvement must be wiped away."

The collection of old, but very important men grumbled in agreement, pushed back their chairs, and shuffled out the door.

When the last of them had gone, Cancerman turned to face the Well-Manicured man and remarked, "Well, looks like he has thwarted us again. What do you propose we do about it?"

The Well-Manicured man turned his large head to look at Cancerman. "I think it is time to take the next step. You know what to do."

"It will be done."


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