From: Vickie Moseley <vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com>
Date: 19 Feb 1999 11:45:17 -0800
Subject: That Ole Black Magic (1/1) PG

Title:  That Ole Black Magic

Summary:  The Lonegunmen find out some more about Diana
Fowley and tell Scully.

Spoilers:  The End, The Beginning, Two Fathers, One Son and
every show that Diana has been in (oh, yeah, in Triangle she was
mentioned)

Category:  V Scullyangst, LGMangst

Rating:  PG

Disclaimer:  You asked for it CC.  You made her into such a . . .
person.  This is all your doing.  I just took your clues to the natural
conclusion.  So it's not infringing, this is more of a clarification of
your work <G>

Someone asked me "Vickie, how do you really feel about Diana?" 
They meant it as a joke, but this is to answer that question.  I'm
leaving it short of purpose, because I have no desire to dabble in the
darker forces.  If someone else wants to take up where I leave off,
and add a little Mulder hurt/Scully comfort along the way, I will
praise you all day long :)

And for those curious souls, yes, I'm still a little miffed, but I'm
getting it out of my system <G>


This is a challenge, folks, so begging will not get you anywhere :)

That Ole Black Magic
by Vickie Moseley
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

Frohike was leaning so far over Langly's shoulder that he was
fogging up the Nirvana groupie's black rimmed glasses.  

"She's never gonna buy that crap, and you know it," he hissed in
disgust.

Langly shot his co-editor a withering stare.  "Look, it's
documented.  I can show her times, places.  Corroborating
witnesses.  All the stuff she usually jumps all over.  Besides, it's not
like it's that far fetched an idea, anyway," he muttered as he hit the
print icon.

"Mulder sure knows how to pick 'em, don't he?" Frohike chuckled
lightly.

"One could include Agent Scully in that description, you know,"
Byers said from his seat at the table.

Frohike looked offended.  "Never!  Besides, Mulder didn't pick
Agent Scully.  He stumbled on he.  That was just plain dumb luck
that he found someone like her," said the little man, turning away. 
"Before I did," he whispered, hoping neither of the others would
hear the last comment.

They did, but they didn't say anything.

"OK, I got all I'm gonna get.  Let's call her up, get her over here,"
Langly announced, shuffling the papers and straightening them.

Dana Scully's Apartment
9:15 pm

Scully had just hung up her coat and was heading for her bedroom. 
It had been a long day.  When Kersh had agreed to give the X Files
back to her and her partner, she'd been overjoyed.  It was the best
thing that had happened in the months since their return from
Antarctica.  That was until they got down to the basement.  

The files were a mess.  Regardless of how highly Mulder thought of
Diana Fowley, the woman was not a neat nik.  Nor, apparently was
the now late Agent Jeffrey Spender.  The files were unorganized,
some not even in file folders.  Scully had found an entire desk
drawer filled with autopsy photos.  Thankfully, there had been
notations on the back of each black and white 8 x 10 glossy giving
the case name and the location of the crime scene.  She had spent
the better part of the day sorting through that drawer and trying to
get the wayward photos back into their appropriate file.

In short, she was exhausted and just wanted to make it all the way
into her bathroom and spend the next hour soaking in a tub of hot
water.

The phone rang as she reached her bedroom door.

She sighed.  It was probably Mulder.  He knew she was still a little
miffed at him, for believing in Diana, for spending most of the day
trying to find out where she'd gone after the 'burning' at the El
Rico Air Base hanger.  Dental records had shown that she was not
among the victims.  Even Scully had to admit that she didn't hate
the woman enough to wish her a fiery death.  But Mulder had been
a man possessed trying to find her. 

She told him off about 3:30, telling him pointedly to suck it up and
get back to the task at hand.  There was mre than enough work to
go around for the both of them.  Apparently, when Spender decided
that finding a file folder and labeling it was too much of a hassle, he
would shred the documents.  Mulder was getting pretty good at
finding all the right pieces to tape back together.  There were two
more bags of shredded paper waiting for his 'magic' touch.  But
Mulder had just glared at her and picked up the phone again calling
everyone possible, from the Pentagon down to the ASAC of the
anti-terrorism group in charge of Europe looking for Diana.  Scully
had enough of him and Diana.  She was out of the office promptly
at 5:00, slamming the door as she left.

Now, in her apartment, the ringing continued.  "Talk to the
machine, Mulder," she gloated as she slipped into her bedroom and
started undressing.  With half an ear she listened to the message
being received.

"So the old slave driver's got you burning the midnight oil, uh,
Agent Scully?  Well, when you get home, give us a call.  Langly
found something that you really need to see.  We're up all night, it's
a Leave It To Beaver Marathon on TV Land.  Just give us a call."

Frohike?  OK, sure, she'd been calling the guys more frequently
lately, but she hadn't asked them for anything in a few days.  She
knew of no reason they would be calling her at this hour.  And why
were they calling her when Mulder had the X Files back?  She
reversed the process she had just started, and walked back into the
living room, dressed and ready for action.  She was glad she
decided to do so because what Langly told her over the phone had
her out the door and down to her car in three minutes flat.

"Now, before we show you any of this, you have to agree to keep
an 'open mind'," Langly said nervously, holding the sheaf of papers
just out of her reach.

"Hand those pages over, NOW, Langly," Scully growled low with
her head down ready to charge.

He handed the pages over without further comment.

Scully read through the first couple of pages and closed her eyes in
disgust.  "You can't be seriou," she muttered.  But rather than
handing the pages back, she continued to look through them, even
going over to the formica topped kitchenette to sit and sort them out
in front of her.

"This is really neat-o keen, guys, but he's never going to buy it,"
she said tiredly, rubbing her hand over her eyes.

"Of course not, Agent Scully.  The man is not himself.  She has him
. . ."  Byers looked over to Frohike.

"The word you're reaching for is 'bewitched'," the little man smiled
proudly.

Scully closed her eyes in exasperation.  "Guys."

"In every place Diana Fowley lived, there was an active coven of
practitioners of black magic.  Her phone records show calls made
to the head of the covens, as well as other members.  Many of those
people have since been arrested for 'illegal acts' ranging from
animal torture to setting fire to people's houses.  There are
photographs, taken by Interpol, which show Diana in the company
of many of the indicted.  Then there's the fact that her neighbors
reported her absence on all the pertinent dates--July 31, October
31, . . ."

Scully held up her hand.  "I think you've got it wrong, fellas.  I
work for the FBI, not the Salem Witch Trials.  Besides, she might
have considered these people to be terrorists.  That was her job
over there, you know."

Frohike had just about had it.  He slammed a meaty fist on the
table.  "Damn it, Agent Scully, this is serious!"  His shout brought
all eyes on him.  "If it's true, and believe me, I was as skeptical as
you are, but if it's true, it explains everything!  Mulder hasn't been
acting like himself around her since she got back.  She's got him
under a spell, I know it!"

"And she was his lover for over a year!  You told me so
yourselves," Scully spat out.  "Any spell she's woven has to do
with male genitalia, not eye of newt and wart of toad!"

"But that doesn't explain why he would believe her, even in the
face of evidence as damning as what we showed him before," Byers
pointed out calmly.  "He's believing her over you, even."

That cut a bit to deep.  Scully's eyes flashed as her cheeks
reddened.  "He's a red blooded male with a closet full of porn
videos and a dusty address book.  You do the math," she seethed.

"Well, then that's probably why he took off from the hospital with a
gunshot wound to the head to travel 36 hours by air and brave the
Antarctic to find you," Frohike shot back, arms crossed in front of
him in defiance to her anger.  At her startled gasp, he held his hand
out, a peace offering.  "Here me out, Scully.  He loves you.  You
two are the dumbest people on the planet if you haven't figured that
out yet.  He would do anything to save you.  Other men tell women
that they'd go to the ends of the earth for them, Mulder _has_ gone
there, for you.  He would never go that far for Diana.  Hell, when
she left him, he didn't even bother to go to the airport."

Byers and Langly's heads shot up and pinned Frohike in their glare. 
The little man shrugged.  "I found out what flight Diana was on when
Mulder he found her note back in '92.  Thought he should know.  I
gave him the number.  He wadded it up and tossed it in the
garbage.  When her flight was taking off, he and I were sitting in a
bar on Pennsylvania Avenue, working our way through a keg of
Miller Lite."  Frohike chewed on his lip a moment, hesitant to bring
up the subject.  "She'll probably kill him when she's done with
him."

Scully sat there, silent, taking it all in.  It was crazy, but it almost
made sense.  Mulder had been acting completely out of character. 
Like he'd become possessed.  Could it be true?  

Finally she spoke.  "What can we do?  Even if I believe you, there's
nothing we can do, is there?"

"We can figure out how she's doing it.  It's probably a spell that
can be broken," Langly said softly.

"And if we can't?" Scully asked, lashes holding back her tears.

"I really don't think we can accept that as an outcome," Byers said
slowly and the other two men shook their heads in agreement.

"Tell me what to do," Scully said nodding her head with them.

the end.  

If you wat more, take a crack at it ;)

Vickie
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

45 to 55 for conviction

Can we go back to just running
the country now?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^