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A Red Love Bizarre or The Roswell Chest	By : Beaverhausen13 Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th: The Series Views: 535 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files. I do not own Friday the 13th: The Series. I get no cash, no ends, none of that cheddar for this, fam damily.

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4-19-1999 {Mulder}
"Demonology?" Scully smirks at me, "Really, Mulder?"
"We've seen stranger things; Eugene Tooms, Scully, remember?" I comment.
Currently, I'm crouched next to the chest and she's standing almost too near. I want to touch the bare skin at the top of that slit so badly, it's maddening. Focus, Mulder.
"Among the other oddities of our working partnership; I remember." Scully sighs, letting her signature eyebrow arch, "Do you have any theories?"
Before I can answer her, the chest begins to shake, and a bright light pours from the keyhole. It's temporarily blinding.
"Mulder! What's happening?!" Scully exclaims, shielding her eyes.
"You got me!" I answer back. The light is LOUD, if that makes any sense at all, and I find myself yelling.
Three people appear before our eyes as the light dies down. What the hell is going on? They're yelling as if they've been caught off guard in some way; there's an older bearded man wearing a trench coat and fedora, a dark brown-haired male in his twenties along with a redhead of around the same age with the biggest hair I've ever seen. All three are wearing rubber gloves.
Scully gains her bearings before I do and draws her Glock, "FBI!" she announces, still somewhat visually blown away by what happened, "Freeze!"
Three sets of gloved hands reach for the sky.
"Ryan, what just happened? Jack!" the redhead looks around frantically. She appears quite distressed.
"I don't know!" the man she addressed as Ryan says, "Look, we don't want any trouble." he pleads with us, "We have no idea how we got here."
"How did you just appear out of thin air, then?" Scully pushes, visibly shaken.
Jack, the elder gentleman, pipes up, "We're antique dealers, and we came to pick up this chest. As soon as we touched it, we were somehow transferred to this place."
I find myself believing him, his story does jibe somehow with the symbol by the lock. "What are your names?" I ask as I motion for Scully to stand down.
The redhead, still holding up her hands starts, "I'm Micki Foster, this is Ryan Dallion and Jack Marshak."
"Special Agent Fox Mulder. This is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully. You can put your hands down." I say reassuringly.
"Mulder, do you think that's wise? They might be our perps." Scully nudges me in my side.
"Not likely. Look at how off-guard they are. I think they're victims of a Tesser." I state, causing her to look confused.
Jack seems impressed, "You're familiar with the Tesseract?"
"Yeah, a wrinkle in the continuum that causes matter to skip time," I explain, mostly to Scully, "I've seen this particular symbol on the chest in a book that blends demonology with the effects of time travel."
"What branch of the FBI do you work for?" Jack queries, "You seem to know quite a bit about the occult."
"It's our job." Scully defends, "We're with the X-Files."
"Unexplained cases?" Ryan perks up, then nudges Micki, "You mean, for once we have law enforcement on our side?"
"That remains to be seen." Scully tells him. She still has her guard up, what is happening is beyond rational explanation and her reaction is normal.
Jack seems to get hit with an epiphany, "What year is this, Agent Mulder?"
"1999." I answer, at the same time Scully asks, "What kind of question is that?"
"So we're stuck ahead in time *ten* years?" Micki despairs, "How will we possibly get back?"
"You're from 1989 then?" Things just keep getting stranger, but at the same time are making sense. What they are wearing seemed a little out of date; the last time I saw a Depeche Mode t-shirt like the one Ryan is wearing was around that point in time.
"Ten years, I can't believe this." Ryan grumbles, kicking a little at the ground.
"Maybe we should try to sit down together and figure this all out." Jack suggests.
"Mulder, we still have a job to do, remember?" Scully reminds me.
"Of course, Scully." I answer her, "However, these people could provide some insight into our investigation; why don't we split up, you go talk to the Sheriff and I'll take these three to the hotel to get settled in and touch base. We'll meet up after to interview eyewitnesses together."
"Finally, some logic." Scully sighs, glancing again at our three new guests, "Call me on my cell when you get there." With this, she leans in a little closer to me, allowing me a scent of vanilla as she whispers, "I just want you to confirm there's no funny business. This whole situation has me perplexed."
"Will do." I say to her, reassuringly touching her shoulder. "You guys coming? I'm gonna call us a cab and let Agent Scully take the car."
"Good, then we can get down to brass tacks." Jack agrees.
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(still) 4-19-1999 {Ryan}
We've skipped ahead in time ten fucking years. We're officially strangers in a not-so-strange land. At first, when Agents Mulder and Scully announced they were FBI, I thought it was over. I saw the same panic in Jack and Micki's eyes. Then it got weirder...these agents are with the X-Files, which every sci-geek like me knows that these guys investigate the cases that no one can explain, like flying saucers and Bigfoot sightings.
Agent Mulder (the tall male agent with brown hair) seems to really know his stuff, and his partner, Agent Scully (petite female with a red bob) is real no-nonsense. It was a relief to find that they weren't gunning to take us to jail, and sort of knew where we were coming from.
Especially since we just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of a crime scene they were investigating.
Agent Scully left in a dark blue, rounder looking car as Agent Mulder pulled out his strange, small cellular phone and called us a cab. Then he asked Jack to explain who we were. Jack did and when it was all over with, Micki and I looked at each other with fear of mental institutions in our eyes. But that didn't happen. Agent Mulder completely understood us, and is willing to help.
Finally, some luck.
We can't really take the chest back to the vault just yet; we don't really know if there even is a Curious Goods anymore ten years later. Besides, nobody wants to touch that thing until we understand what it does. Agent Mulder calls a full HASMAT team to come down and retrieve the chest, which will be stored in a private evidence locker, safe as any vault. This is a man with good ideas.
Currently, the four of us are crammed in the back of a taxi, and Micki's balancing on my knee precariously between myself and Agent Mulder. "What luck, the only girl in a backseat of handsome men." Micki jokes, trying to break the ice a little.
I'm just trying to keep my legs crossed enough so she doesn't run into anything she's not supposed to. I notice Agent Mulder giving her the eye. "Can I call you Micki?" Mulder cracks a smile at her.
"Of course; what shall I call you?" Now she is openly flirting with him, on *my* lap. Life isn't fair.
"Mulder is fine."
"Agent Mulder," Jack begins, "I'd like to know the name of that book that you mentioned earlier. The more that we understand what this chest can do, maybe we can overcome the curse's effects and find a way to get back to 1989."
"Sure. Its title is The Dark Tesseract, written by someone named L. Vendredi, and published in 1992. The basic theme is human sacrifice as a way of escaping the current time you were in for another through a manipulated tesseract."
"Uncle Lewis!" Micki gasps, "How did he publish a book years after his death?"
"After the Devil dragged him down to Hell?" Mulder adds.
I notice the cab driver glancing at us warily from the rearview. Luckily, we've pulled into a hotel and it's time to exit.
"Unless Lewis hid the manuscript and someone found it." I offer. Hey, I hold my own here.
"You may be onto something, Ryan." Mulder tells me, "I need to make a quick phone call to Scully and I'll get us some rooms while I'm at it, excuse me." he says, making his way to the office to check in.
Micki, Jack, and I hang back in the parking lot, and Micki clings a little closer to me as we take in our surroundings. "Everything's the same, but different." Micki says, "It's got to be at least ten degrees colder than it was today in 1989." she rubs her shoulders and I instinctively put my arms around them to warm them up.
"It wouldn't be the first time we've time travelled." I offer, trying to make her feel better.
"Yes, but for some reason, it's different because it's a less drastic change. London circa Bram Stoker was far different from our time; this just seems surreal." Micki sighs, and presses her back into my chest. I feel one of my arms graze a breast; I can't let her get too close. She's in danger of getting stabbed.
"We also need to be aware of where *we* are now." Jack starts, "Only ten years into the future, we're most likely still alive and it would be quite dangerous if we ran into our future selves. It might permanently disrupt the space-time continuum."
Agent Mulder approaches us from the office with three room keys, "Well, the accommodations weren't so great, but I got us the last three rooms compliments of the FBI. I figure we can give an old man his privacy," he winks at Jack, who chuckles, "and we'll bunk guys and girls together. Oh, and Ryan,"
"Yes?"
"I snore." He kids as he tosses me our room key.
"So does he." Micki says as he hands her the key to the room she will share with Agent Scully, "I should know, his room is right outside mine." Mulder tosses me a 'lucky guy' look that Micki catches, which causes her to look down and blush adorably. I feel sick. What's worse is I like the guy. I feel a strange sympatico with Agent Mulder. It doesn't mean that seeing them flirt casually doesn't hurt, though.
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(still) 4-19-99 {Mulder}
"I'm supposed to believe that these people go around procuring cursed artifacts after their Uncle broke his deal with Lucifer and was dragged down to Hell?" Scully, ever the skeptic, lights into me. We've met back up to interview the eyewitnesses and are driving the rental car towards the first residence.
"Hey, I thought you'd be more open to this, Miss Catholic." I tease her, reaching to her cross around her neck to finger it slightly. She pushes my hand away, amused. "I mean, considering they just showed up out of thin air and it was obviously connected with that chest, is it really so hard to believe? After all that we have personally seen and know, is this really *that* strange?"
Scully gives me the eyebrow, "Yes. Yes, it is." she answers, deadpan.
Well, when she's right, she's right. Scully knows what she saw happen right before her eyes, though, and I see it making her ambivalent. She just doesn't really know what to think.
Scully and I reach the locations of the various eyewitnesses, and they all report hearing screams and seeing a bright, blinding light coming from the Duquet barn the night of the murder. The Sheriff gave Scully the official police report to look over, and she had dropped the forensic evidence she had gathered at the crime scene off at the state FBI office in Portland while I was getting our guests settled in at the hotel. All in all, I'd say it was a productive first day of this case.
We're on our way back to the hotel now, "I hope you don't mind sharing your room." I say to her as we pull into the parking lot.
"With you?" she says, suspicious.
Wow. My dick just got hard. It was that easy. "No, with Micki Foster."
"Mulder, you didn't..." Scully starts.
"I believe they can help us. They do what we do except they don't have the law on their side." I tell her.
"The lawlessness is what I'm worried about." she quips as we make our way out of the car.
"Scully, trust my instincts. They're harmless, and could actually be very helpful." I stop walking and take her by the shoulders, massaging them lightly, "Trust me."
Scully sighs, "I have to admit that they seem like nice people." she gives in, "And I also have to admit that after all that I have seen and know that I can't shut out the possibility that this is real."
"Good girl." I say as she lightly slaps a hand on my shoulder in mock-offense.
"Imagine how *they* feel. They just skipped ahead in time ten years. Talk about your strange days. I showed the old man, Jack, my laptop and gave him a rundown on the worldwideweb before I left. You should've seen him, Scully. He had no idea; he was like a kid in a candy store."
It actually was pretty amusing how excited the old goat was about computer technology's advances in the past ten years. I forget that not long ago, I too was doing research off books and microfiche. When I left them, they were in Jack's room, huddled around my laptop, typing keywords into the search engine.
That's pretty much how we find them when we get back, with the exception of Ryan, who is watching re-runs of Beavis and Butthead and chuckling.
"Agents Mulder and Scully!" Jack exclaims, "Perfect timing, we believe we are onto something, here."
"We think it may have been Elaine Duquet who committed the murder." Micki says, crossing to us from her chair, "Computers are cool, but my eyes are *swimming* right now!" she exclaims as an afterthought.
"Funny, wasn't that my very first theory?" Scully smirks, slightly nudging my side, "What makes you think so, Miss Foster?"
"We looked up the property records, and found out that Ms. Duquet didn't gain ownership of the farm until 1992, but she was the one who contacted *us* in 1989 to pick up the chest." Micki answers, "And it's Micki, please."
"She was *really* willing to hand it over," Ryan adds, "So we figure that she killed your victim here and used the chest to jump back to our time. Nobody finds her."
"Another tidbit that I found is that she needs to find someone to take *her* place in time." Jack finishes, "She must have found our mailer when she arrived in '89. I checked our Manifest; the chest has been on the farm all along, and the previous owner disappeared suddenly in 1988. The property was listed as vacant until Ms. Duquet bought it in 1992."
Scully and I look at each other, impressed. These guys know how to research.
"We still need to figure out how we're going to get back." Ryan states.
"Well, your findings make sense," I say, "I think we need to look deeper into the time frame. From what I know about this, you might only have a limited time before the switch becomes permanent."
"We've also got to take into account *how* the victim was murdered. The autopsy report suggests a wild animal attack." Scully adds, "However, they haven't been able to identify the animal."
"So what would the catalyst be in order to reverse this?" Micki wonders aloud, "We have all these facts, is it an animal in cahoots with Elaine, is it a demon that did the murder..."
"Demon, of course!" Jack exclaims, scrolling down the page of the occult website he was exploring, "She summoned a demon to do the sacrifice!"
I look at Scully, who is desperately trying to suspend her disbelief, "Well, it would explain the unidentified animal."
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4-19-1999 {Ryan}
It blows my mind how much can happen in ten years, especially when you don't have a firsthand perspective. The computer technology is way more advanced and accessible in '99, as are cellular phones, which is helpful since we can't access our storefront and our massive volume of books and newspapers. I've also noticed that compact discs have replaced cassettes, television has gotten a little more risqué`, which I like, that waistlines on women's pants have gotten lower and midriffs and tube tops seem to be popular fashions at the moment.
Thank you, hotel cable, you are a wealth of information. It also amazes me how similarly parallel to Agents Mulder and Scully we are. Physically similar, but opposite. Agent Mulder is little more suave than I am, and Scully is a bit more serious than Micki, but it's getting a bit eerie.
I think Mulder and Scully have something going on. At the very *least* it's unrequited, like my feelings of lust and perversion over Micki. When Scully's in the room, Mulder doesn't even look at my redhead. Which is hard to do; Micki's braless and wearing white. *I* can't stop staring. I even catch Jack stealing a few glances every now and then. I guess. He's old, not dead.
Not to say that Agent Scully doesn't have something about her, as well. The first time I heard her talk, I got it. She has a very sexy voice, not to mention a tight little body and a beautiful face.
I get this Mulder guy.
We ordered food in tonight, eating in Jack's room together and talking about our situation. We're pretty sure that Elaine Duquet summoned a demon in this time to kill this Dupree guy and had one week to find patsies to take her place. Enter our mailer, and us along in the process. It was almost too easy for her. Right now, we're assuming that we have about a week before this switch becomes permanent.
Eventually, Mulder takes the laptop away from Jack and we all retire to our separate rooms. Mulder and I are barely watching this movie called True Romance on Showtime, staring at the ceiling on our respective beds and swapping stories. His sister was abducted by aliens, our Uncle was dragged to Hell. He and Scully have saved each other's lives countless times from things unexplained. Ditto.
"So Ryan, you and Micki aren't blood-related, then?" Mulder asks.
"Not a drop, no." I answer, "Our relation is by marriage only. Can't you tell?" I joke.
"Have you two ever..." Mulder begins, making a punch-it-in fist motion and whistling.
"No! No....uh, no." I say a little too hastily.
"Must be rough." he sighs, "Does she always go without a bra?"
"Constantly." I answer automatically. It was a knee-jerk reaction.
"Got ya." Mulder chuckles.
"What about you and Agent Scully? You can't go five minutes without laying a finger on her when you're in the same room together. Are *you*..." I make the same fist motion whistle combination.
"Nope." He's Mr. Calm and Casual, "Not once in the six years we've known each other."
My jaw drops, "Six years? Nobody else?"
"In my line of work, it's impossible." Mulder tells me, and I nod in understanding, "Just wait a few more years, you'll feel my pain. At least Scully doesn't parade around me braless."
"No, she just talks to you in that phone sex voice of hers." I crack.
"You noticed that too, huh?"
"Oh yeah," I say, "How can you not? So, six years, and you never took a shot? But you're in love with her."
"Yup. And you're in love with Micki."
"Yup. And there's nothing we can do about it, because if we come clean, we could lose them."
"Yup."
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A Red Love Bizarre or The Roswell Chest