Title: Encounter with the Undead 
Author: Mary Kleinsmith 
Feedback: It would be much appreciated!  Buc252@aol.com 
Rating: PG 
Category: Halloween Challenge. Written for VS10 Halloween 
Special event 
Keywords: MSR, Angst, a touch of MT 
Spoilers: Bad Blood 
Archive: Two weeks exclusively on VS9, then ATF, Ephemeral 
and anywhere else. Just keep my name attached. 
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully and all the others belong to 
Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox. No copyright infringement 
intended. 

Summary: An acquaintance from the past comes back to haunt 
Mulder and threaten his happiness with Scully. (No, it's 
not a ghost!) 

Authors' Notes: I chose, for personal reasons, not to 
participate in a full story in this year's VS10, despite 
having a good experience last year with Dreamweaver. It was 
not an easy decision, or entered into lightly, but for the 
non-authors out there, I can tell you that writing a VS 
episode is not nearly as easy as you might think. I'd 
decided that, for this year at least, I'd be on the 
sidelines. And then Vickie asked me about the Halloween 
Special. During our chat, an idea - this idea - bloomed, 
and when Susan added her voice to Vickie's, I finally 
decided that this is what I was meant to do. So here it is, 
folks. I hope you like it! 
 
~*~*~

It never failed. The worst case in the world, taking place 
during the worst week of his life...and now he had to 
look forward to answering the door all night, giving candy 
to kids he didn't know. Kids who could be his own...if 
he'd just get off his ass and marry Scully. It didn't 
matter that she couldn't birth them herself; if they 
couldn't have them, they could adopt them. But they'd be 
THEIRS. 

Okay, this is too depressing. The big X-File had ended in a 
foot chase through a garbage dump, and ended in his 
tackling the very human, very normal suspect in the biggest 
pile of waste he'd ever seen. Heck, anybody had ever seen. 
He was disgusting, stinking so bad he didn't dare sit down 
on the sofa to rest his tired muscles without cleaning up 
first.  

Ahhhh, cleaning up. A hot shower...real soap, not those 
horridly tiny little bars motel rooms gave you...a 
shower head that sprayed OVER his head instead of into his 
neck. It sounded like heaven. 

He wasn't sure if his suit was salvageable, but he'd give 
the dry cleaners a chance, he thought as he shed each piece 
and deposited them into a garbage bag. At least, if they 
failed, it was ready for disposal. This job cost him so 
much money sometimes. 

Climbing into the shower, he wondered what Scully had 
planned for tonight. She'd made it clear that there was no 
way she was staying at the office past quitting time. Maybe 
it had been the smell... or maybe it was because she was 
tired of doing reports.  

Or maybe, she had something to do - without him, his inner 
voice of self-doubt popped up. It rarely did anymore, but 
every once in awhile, he wondered how he could ever have 
gotten so lucky. 

Lathering his shampoo into a thick foam, he scrubbed his 
hair, doing his best to scrub all thought from his head. 
There was too much up there. It only helped partly, but he 
felt a level of peacefulness as he stood under the shower 
head once again to rinse. 

He nearly lost his balance, so lulled by the shower was he, 
when his cell phone rang. He'd set it on the vanity, as was 
his habit; Scully had been right when she said that he 
couldn't do without the thing, but perhaps was not aware of 
the full truth. He couldn't do without it simply because 
it was his connection to her - and she was something else 
he absolutely could not do without. 

Shaking the water from his hair and trying to tell himself 
he wasn't acting like a Retriever, he stepped from the 
shower in time to grab the phone before it clicked to voice 
mail.  

"Mulder." 

"Agent Mulder, there's something you need to see. Come to 
354 Genesee Street in Georgetown, the Bourbon Street Club." 

"Who is this?" Mulder asked. The voice didn't sound 
familiar; it was a stranger or disguised in some way, he 
deduced. 

"Just someone looking out for your best interests. Come, 
and hurry." 

There was a click as the line disconnected before he could 
get another word in edgewise.  

Now he was faced with a dilemma. Follow the instructions, 
or stay home. It could be important, but it also could be a 
trap, or, worse, a complete waste of time. A Halloween 
practical joke. But since the alternative was to stay home, 
trying to explain to the neighbor kids who knocked on the 
door that he hadn't bought enough - okay, any really - 
treats to go around because he'd been chasing after little 
gray men. A story like that might actually make them forget 
about candy, he thought. 

Dressing quickly, he chose to forego his regular gun and 
holster, which would be too conspicuous on his jeans, but 
strapped on his ankle holster and smaller gun. He doubted 
he'd need it, but he wanted to feel like he had some kind 
of back up. 

Backup. Maybe he should call Scully. If he got himself hurt 
again because he'd failed to tell her what he was doing, 
she'd be pissed as hell with him. She'd been pretty clear 
that she had plans, but called her apartment anyway, 
getting the answering machine and leaving a message as to 
where he was going and why. If he disappeared, at least 
she'd know in the morning a bit of what had happened. A 
place to start, so to speak. 

Grabbing his keys, he made sure the door was locked before 
sprinting to his car. He knew where Genesee Street was - it 
wasn't that far from Scully's place - but he was unfamiliar 
with club itself. He wondered if it would have a New 
Orleans flavor, given the name, and what kind of music 
they'd play.  

Finding a parking space was easier than he expected, but 
maybe club hopping wasn't something people did on 
Halloween. For a psychologist, he realized he was out of 
touch with the human condition on the socialization issues 
of the current day. Scully could probably tell him - 
she was much more socially adept than he was and he knew 
it. It was why they made a great team; what one was 
lacking, the other supplied. 

There was a cover charge, and Mulder paid it before 
slipping into the club and taking a seat at an empty table. 
He wasn't sure what to expect; whether the person who 
called would approach him, whether the thing he was 
supposed to see would be obvious, or if he'd have to go 
looking for it. A waitress with an immodest amount of 
cleavage showing approached and took his order. He opted 
for soda, wanting to keep a clear head until he knew what 
was going on.  

Batting her eyes at him, she went off to fetch his drink, 
and he took the opportunity to scan the room. A few people 
sat at the bar, mostly singles although one or two couples 
were also there. They appeared to have only one goal for 
the night, and that was to lose themselves in the oblivion 
of alcohol. Away from the bar, couples occupied tables 
surrounding a small dance floor, most appearing to have not 
dancing on their minds, but copulation. They kissed and 
touched in a way that would be a borderline arrestible 
offense if they were outside.  

On the dance floor, a very few couples moved to a slow, 
steady rhythm from a source he couldn't identify, seeming 
to be trying to get so close that they inhabited the same 
space. Most were dressed in casual clothes, jeans, oxford 
shirts, nothing that would make them stand out in a 
crowd. Then, his eyes were drawn to a couple, her red hair 
standing out in stark contrast to the rest of the room and 
his face buried against her neck. Their bodies were barely 
moving, but necks and heads moved, nuzzled, stretched. And 
the feminine form looked familiar...

Mulder gasped as he realized this was what he was there to 
see. It was Scully, with another man. He felt a surge of 
jealousy towards the man with whom she was dancing. He had 
prior claim on her, he thought angrily. As if beckoned by 
Mulder's own thoughts, the man raised his brunet head from 
her neck to meet his eyes. Glowing yellowish green, they 
reached out to him, and he realized that this was no 
stranger. 

The man whispered in Scully's ear, and they turned as one 
to approach his table. 

"Mulder, what are you doing here?" she asked, but he almost 
missed it. He was distracted by her - or more pointedly, by 
the fact that there was blood on her neck. 

"Can't...can't a guy...umm...have a drink 
anymore?" he responded, and realized that he had little 
excuse. Still, finding her here, with him, was more than a 
little disturbing. 

"Of course, Agent Mulder," came in a thick Texan accent 
through buck teeth. "It's just one doozy of a coincidence." 

"Of course, Sheriff Hartwell," Mulder agreed, trying to 
figure what his next move should be. When Hartwell nodded 
his own agreement, there was blood on his neck as well. 

Scully and Mulder exchanged a look that both understood, 
and Scully turned to Hartwell. 

"Would you get me another drink?" she asked her 'date' with 
a lascivious grin. "Something with alcohol this time, I 
think." And she winked at him. She actually winked at him! 
Hartwell nodded and went on his way, leaving them alone. 

Mulder wasn't going to waste the little time he knew 
they had. 

"Scully, what the hell are you doing with him? You know 
what he is!" 

"Yes, I know what he is. He's a kind, gallant man who 
treats me with courtesy and respect. Anything else is just 
small potatoes." 

"But, Scully..." 

"I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you, Mulder, 
but I'll be tendering my resignation. Lucius has asked me 
to go back to Texas with him, and I've said yes." 

"Scully, you can't!" Mulder said pleadingly. This couldn't 
be happening, but it was.  

"He gives me everything I need, Mulder. Can't you 
understand that?" 

"Oh, and does that include this?" he snapped, standing to 
pull the collar away from her neck where the red liquid was 
still wet.  

"Yes, I give him what he needs, too. It's a wonderful 
relationship." 

"And what does he give you, Scully? I can give you all 
that, all you had to do was ask. I'd have done it all." 

"I doubt you really know what you're saying, Mulder," she 
grinned. 

"Yes, I do. Did you let him do it? Has he made you like 
them?" 

"Does it matter?" she asked. 

"Yes, it matters. Of course it matters." 

"No, it doesn't. Because if he didn't, then I'm going of my 
own free will, and if he did, then I'm going to be with my 
own kind. Either way, you have to face it. You can't stop 
me." 

Just then, Hartwell returned with three glasses of blood-
red wine. At least, he hoped it was wine. Handing one to 
Scully, then to Mulder, he slipped the freed hand around 
her waist.  

"How about I propose a toast. To our lives. May we all have 
a glorious future." Scully and Hartwell clinked their 
glasses intimately before turning to Mulder.  

"I'm sorry if I don't see anything to be so happy about," 
he said grimly.  

"Then come with us," Scully said unexpectedly, and both men 
looked at her, startled. "You can be happy there, Mulder. 
They can make it better for you." 

"But what about the X-Files? My sister? Our work?" 

"We can...they can...help you to forget. You can be 
happy." 

"Scully, I'll never be happy. Either here or in Texas, as 
long as I have to know that you're with him." His voice 
dripped venom on the pronoun. 

"He's a good man, Mulder." 

"I'd beg to differ, but that's not the point. It's not that 
you're with him," Mulder said in anger and desperation. 
"It's that you're not with ME! I thought that we had 
something together." 

"And we can have it again, it'll just be a little 
different. Did you know that Lucius's people don't practice 
monogamy? You can still have me." 

"But he would have you, too. No, I don't think so," he 
gritted through clenched teeth.  

"Well," she said, setting down her wine glass. "If you 
change your mind, you just have to say the word." 

"I won't. I have at LEAST that much self respect." 

"That's your loss," she said sadly. "We need to go. Lucius 
only feels comfortable in the city on Halloween. We need to 
be out of town by midnight. A van will be moving my 
apartment. If there's anything of yours left there, just 
let them know - I've told them to give you carte blanche to 
take whatever you want. I'd planned to call you in the 
morning, but I'm actually glad it happened this way. You 
need to understand that this is what I want. Goodbye, 
Mulder. I will miss you, but I can't let that change my 
mind." 

She turned to go, Hartwell taking up his place beside her. 
They moved quickly, and were almost to the door when he 
realized she really was leaving. And not just leaving...
leaving to become one of the famed undead, if she wasn't 
already. 

"Scully, no! Don't go!" He stood, beginning to go after 
her, but finding himself impeded by a sudden crowd. 
"Scully, I love you! You can't leave me!" 

The crowd pushed in on him, crushed him until he couldn't 
move or breath. And then the darkness closed in on him. For 
just a moment, he wondered if those around him were of the 
'clan' as well, and if they'd change him into one of them, 
but then the blackness took over entirely. 

 ~*~*~ 

When he woke up, it was to the sound of an engine humming. 
He realized that he was lying on the back seat of a car, 
with a familiar brunet head in the driver's seat.  

"What the hell is going on, Hartwell?" he asked angrily. He 
noticed now that his hands were tied securely behind his 
back, and they'd fallen asleep from the lack of 
circulation. 

"We're going to Texas, Agent Mulder. I know you said you 
didn't want to go, but, you see, I've promised Dana to do 
whatever it takes to make her happy, and that means you. 
She can't be happy without you, so we're all going home." 
He laughed, a bitter sound he'd never before heard from 
the Sheriff. "Can't say I'm crazy about the idea myself, 
but I'm gonna give Dana what she wants." 

"You can't force me to stay against my will. I'll escape 
eventually." 

"We don't have to keep you forever. Just until you can be 
brought over. Like Dana, you'll come around as soon as 
you've undergone the change. Then we'll settle in like one 
big happy family." 

"I'll be missed." 

"Please, Agent Mulder. I know at least enough about you to 
know otherwise. The only person who'd miss you is Dana. 
Your boss, maybe, but Dana will give him an appropriate 
excuse along with your resignation. You'll be happy to be 
with us soon enough." 

"So you're just going to change me. I don't get any say in 
the matter." 

"I'm afraid so. See, I want Dana, and she wants you. It's 
the only way I get to keep her." 

"She's not a possession, you idiot. She's a woman, with her 
own life and her own choices." 

"And she's choosing to go, too. You may as well accept at 
least that." His confrontational tone turned 
conversational. "You should actually feel quite honored, 
Agent Mulder. Halloween night is the only day of the year 
that we can change a human into one of our own, despite all 
the movies and legends." 

"So why haven't I been changed yet?" 

"Only someone of the opposite sex can change another. Dana 
will do you, but she doesn't quite know you're coming yet." 

"I'm a surprise?!" 

"You could say that. She's going to be so happy to see you. 
We really did try leaving you behind, but she was 
inconsolable." He frowned at Mulder's laugh. "Even vampires 
have feelings, Agent Mulder." 

"Forgive me if I'm having my doubts. So you changed her?" 

"Oh, that was done well before we ran into you tonight. I 
was lucky - caught her on her way home from the office. She 
knew we were meant to be together." 

"The two of you, or the three of us?" he asked bitterly. 

"Believe me, sharing Dana was not my first choice either. 
But I'd rather have part of her than none of her. How about 
you, Agent Mulder? How important is she to you?" 

"She's everything to me. But she's not who she was. She's 
not my Scully anymore. You've turned her into something 
else." 

"She is different, that's true. But I still somehow find it 
hard to believe that you won't gladly come to her when she 
calls. You won't be able to say no, any more than she was 
able to say no to me." 

"So we're all going to settle down and be one happy family? 
You've got to be kidding me..." 

"There is no kidding here, Mulder. I'm deadly serious," 
Hartwell said, concentrating his eyes back on the road. 
"Dana's gone ahead to secure a place for us - me and her, 
she thinks - at our new camp." 

"Where are we going?" 

"I think I'm going to wait to tell you that until you've 
had a...change of heart. It's coming, and the sooner 
you can accept that, the better. Now you may as well rest 
up. It may be the last chance you get," he laughed. 

With those words, the blackness swarmed in again over 
Mulder, and he felt himself drifting. Did Hartwell do it, 
or was his own body betraying him? He wasn't sure, but 
didn't get to dwell on it long before oblivion claimed him. 

 ~*~*~ 

He awoke again in what appeared to be a large barn. Nothing 
fancy, no livestock or hay bales, it appeared to be more of 
a meeting place. As if to confirm this, his attention was 
drawn to a looming figure above him. It wasn't 
exceptionally tall, he didn't think, but the impression 
came from the fact, he realized, that he was lying on the 
floor. Above him, the man was speaking. 

"Friends, brethren, we gather here today to greet two new 
members of our society, and to witness the bringing over of 
one of them."  

Mulder looked in the direction Hartwell faced to see a 
crowd gathered there, all of them with glowing, green eyes. 
The undead, a voice in his head told him. Pinching himself, 
he tried to awaken from the nightmare, but it seemed this 
was only too real.  

Then he saw her, coming through the crowd toward him, her 
eyes glowing as green as any of the others. It was so 
distracting that he wasn't hearing what Hartwell was saying 
about her. He watched as she stepped on the slightly raised 
platform on which he now realized he was lying and took the 
Sheriff's hand, their fingers interlacing. Mulder only 
heard the last thing he said. 

"Former enemies are now friends. Let's all welcome Dana," 
and he turned to look at Mulder, "and Fox. Let us all 
celebrate, and at five minutes before the witching hour, we 
will gather again to watch as Dana makes Fox one of our 
own." 

Unlikely cheers went up all around, and suddenly there was 
music. This was not happening, Mulder told himself again. 
Not only was he going to be turned into one of the undead, 
now he wasn't even going to get to enjoy the party. He 
wasn't stupid - he knew there was no way he'd get the 
chance to escape. They'd keep him tied up, right where he 
was, until the time came. 

Would it really be so bad, though? He thought 
philosophically. It could be a lot worse than spending 
eternity with Scully...

He had a crude awakening. "And him," he whispered, watching 
Scully and Hartwell dancing so close, they were practically 
in the same skin. 

The dancing grew faster, more erotic, and the entire 
company seemed to be lost in a carnal haze. The room began 
to spin, his blurry vision showing him a vague picture of 
Scully, sandwiched between the wall and Hartwell's grinding 
hips. He wanted to run, to move, to stop them...

Anything, but lie here on the floor waiting for the end of 
the last day of his life. Because despite what Sheriff 
Hartwell said, he couldn't believe that he would be the 
same person once Scully did to him what had been done to 
her. 

I mean, would the REAL Scully do what she was doing now? 
And if she did, wouldn't she do it with me? 

It was his last thought as he drifted off once again. 

The next thing of which he was aware was something pressing 
against his lips. Something soft, and pliable. Something 
not warm, and it felt unnatural. 

He opened his eyes to find them affixed to a pair of 
glowing green ones that somehow should have been blue. A 
deep, resonating voice, yet familiar, spoke inside his 
head. 

"It's our time, Mulder. Everybody is gathered." 

"Gathered?" 

"Yes. Men are brought into the clan in front of its 
members," she said in a deep, eerie voice. "And once it's 
done, you," she kisses me, unbelievably, on the lips, "and 
I," another kiss, "and Lucius can all go home." I know she 
sees my thoughts in my eyes, or maybe she's reading my 
mind. "No, not Washington. The home we will share. 
Together. Forever." 

He hears he crowd pressing in, their footsteps shuffling 
closer, but his eyes are mesmerized by hers and he can't 
look away. Her face draws closer, and just when he thinks 
she's going to kiss him again, her mouth takes a detour. To 
his neck. 

He shivers, expecting to feel the piercing of teeth, and 
then it occurs to him. These vampires don't have fangs - 
how does she intend to...

There's a fine, sliding sensation a fraction of a second 
before the pain kicks in. Dammit, she actually cut me with 
something, he realizes. He feels a solid wetness, her 
tongue, slide over the slice before her lips settle around 
it. 

"Scully, don't do this," he whispers, surprising himself 
that he's not shouting it at the top of his lungs. She 
doesn't move away, and the pressure becomes stronger as he 
become more fearful. Finally, he finds his voice. 

"Scully, stop!" But she begins to suck, and he's helpless 
to stop her. 

"SCULLY! STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

 ~*~*~ 
 
"Mulder. Sweetheart, are you okay?"  

Before he opened his eyes, he knew it was her voice. She'd 
come back to him! Or they'd taken him to her. He tried to 
raise the lids, but they didn't seem to want to cooperate. 

"Mulder, c'mon. Wake up and show me you're okay." 

Finally, he was able to focus on her face. It was scrubbed 
clean, all traces of the dark makeup she'd worn at the club 
removed, and her hair was pulled up into a neat ponytail. 

"You came back," he whispered as he blinked slowly. "Thank 
God." 

"I just went home, Mulder," she said, taking his hand in 
her own. "I guess I didn't realize you needed a chaperone. 
Can you get up?" 

Looking around, he realized several things at once. He was 
home, he was in his shower, his head was killing him...
and he was naked. Not that she hadn't seen it before lots 
of times, but...

"Scully, what happened?" he asked as she pulled him to his 
feet. He followed meekly. "You said you were leaving me. 
Please tell me you changed your mind!" His head was still a 
bit foggy, but he remembered that part clearly. 

"Mulder, I only went as far as my apartment, and I never 
said I was leaving you. I'll NEVER leave you, my love." She 
settled his wet body on the bed, uncaring that the blanket 
was getting soaked. "As for what happened, I was at home, 
getting ready for the trick-or-treaters when your neighbor, 
Mrs. Lopez, called. She said she heard a bang from inside 
your apartment, but you wouldn't come to the door, so she 
worried you were in trouble. I came right over, and just as 
I got inside, I heard you screaming for me." 

"I screamed for you ..." Mulder said, dazedly. 

"Yes. You were begging me not to go, and you said you loved 
me." 

"Well, I do." 

"I know, and I love you, too. I think it's pretty simple to 
figure out what happened. You fell in the shower, hit your 
head, and ended up having some kind of traumatic nightmare. 
What did you dream, Mulder?" 

He shivered a little, unsure of whether it was the cold on 
his bare skin or the memories that were causing it. "You 
were quitting. Leaving to go back to Texas with Sheriff 
Hartwell. He was turning you into one of them, Scully." The 
fear was back in his voice. "You said he could give you all 
the things I couldn't." 

"He could never give me what you do, Mulder," she said as 
she gently dried his hair with a towel. "And, for the 
record, I haven't thought of him once since we resolved 
that case. There's no need to be jealous." 

Suddenly, Mulder was offended. "I wasn't jealous. I just..." 
She raised an eyebrow at him, and he realized, 
happily, that there was no denying it. "Okay, so I was 
jealous. Thank God it was just a dream." 

"You must have conked yourself good," Scully said, feeling 
the lump on his head. "I'll tell you what. Pack a bag with 
your best Halloween-ish videos, because you're spending the 
night at my place. We'll greet trick-or-treaters, watch 
scary movies and pop popcorn. Then, later on, if you're 
feeling better, I'll show you a few tricks of my own." She 
grinned at him wickedly, and he felt his heart race, the 
blood rushing through his body.  

"Mmmm ..." he mumbled, leaning his head into her hands. 
"Sounds good." 

"Okay, then. Get some clothes on and we're out of here."

The End