Subject: Can you replace 23 with this version?
Date: Thu, 4 Jun 1998
From: lisby@earthlink.net

XXIII

6:10 A.M., Room 234, Days Inn, Williamsburg, Virginia
Hill stroked the lace edging of the bra she'd slept in, drawing a lazy
circle around one nipple, feeling the aureole harden to a nub. Dim room and
dimmer outside the curtained window. Darkest December and the world all
quiet--save for Dana in the bathroom blow-drying her hair. Save for Atlanta
Andy's accent in her ear. Fuckers. Ruining her little Winter Wonderland.

"Tina, you're not serious, girl!"

"Yeah." Languid, Hill switched the receiver from one ear to the other. Let
her hand drift back to her nipple. "Yeah, Andy, I am serious. Just send
someone over to Mulder's apartment. Baker and Peters tossed the place and
survived. Send one of them back there."

"Honey-baby, they been pulled for a diplomat shooting over in DuPont
Circle. I don't know if I can get anyone to go just for goddamned fish. We
got six inches of snow up here....What are they anyway--" his voice kinked
in discomfort. "Piranhas?"

Self-adoration had stippled Hill's skin, confused her senses, making
pleasure over into chill. She tugged at the rumpled sheet until it covered
her erotic zones. Left one tan foot free to wiggle its toes. "No, they're
not piranhas, ASAC Chickenshit. They're--I don't know--gold fish or
something. Dana's really worrying about it. Now, come on." Admired her
pedicure. Trang had done a nice job and damn if her toenails weren't
whorehouse red.

"Baby--"

"Don't 'baby' me, Anderson. I don't want her fretting about anything else.
Christ, at least when fish go bad they float belly up. They don't go and
get themselves disappeared."

A thump and some papers crinkling. "Tina, you know I get heebiejeebies
where Spooky Mulder is concerned."

"So delegate," Hill sighed. "You're the fucking ASAC. Somebody's got to be
brave enough to go in there in broad daylight to sprinkle some flakes."

Swore she heard fingers tapping. Finally, a groan. "All right. I'll go over
there myself at lunch. Maybe the roads'll be clear by then."

Hill smiled and let her voice go soft. "That's it. Be my big ol' G-man."

"Damn. Why you make me do these awful things, girl?"

"'Cause you know how good I'll make it for you later on," Tina purred,
wiggled her ass against the mattress. Sniggered when Vanderbilt coughed.

"I sure hope this line is secure. I swear, one of these days we're both
gonna end up in front of OPR."

"Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke, Andy."

"Uh-huh." More rustling. "I hope you feel that way when you're reassigned
to the field office in Wehateinjuns, Nebraska. I don't even know where
they'd send me--someplace full of lily-faced, Nazi white boys, probably."

"Yeah, but the cost of housing is low." Hill smirked.

"Right. Go on. You joke about it You just wait and see. You gonna be my
downfall, girl. Where you and Dana goin' now?"

She poked the TV changer mounted on the night stand between the beds to
surf for the Weather Channel. Rubbed sleep from her eyes as CNN, The
Learning Channel, and MTV scrolled by. "Um, we're going over to the State
Secretary's Office in Richmond to turf up some info on this Linganore
outfit....Hey, that reminds me--get someone down to Annapolis to check out
a Maryland company called Ophelia Diversified."

"Like that crazy drowned woman in 'Hamlet'?"

"Yeah, just like the drowned woman."

"Okay, baby. You keep me posted. I gotta tell Cap'in Picard something. He
come in this morning at the crack of dawn, tellin' me that the search is
over, but me and Morgan and Gonzaga should keep it up on the sly."

"Shit," she growled, her finger still flicking the remote's channel button.
"What the fuck is Skinner's deal? Mulder's a federal agent!"

"Yeah, well, he says he can't justify looking for someone on 'vacation.'
And especially not when they gone AWOL often as Our Man Spooky."

Hill let her lip curl, pensive. "But you're gonna keep helping us out, right?"

"Even if Skinner told us not to, we'd be doin' it."

"Thanks, boss. I owe you one with chocolate shell. I'll call later....And
don't you screw any other girls while I'm away, Anderson."

"Girl, you know I understand basic testicle safety. Say hi to Tom when he
calls....And make Dana eat breakfast, huh?"

"Yeah, Andy. Bye."

No Weather Channel. Cheap-ass local cable company. The receiver clattered
in its cradle as Hill got up and walked away from the bed and the
television. Flipped her hair over her back and felt the ends swish her
thighs. Pounded on the bathroom door, yelling, "Mutt, get out of there. I
need a shower worse than Geronimo in the Mexican desert. And I need those
goddamned donuts worse. It's Krispy Kreme or death. You hear me?"

"Yes! I'm almost done--" Buzzing blow-dryer and Dana's muffled voice.

"Right now. Your hair is perfect. Out, Dana. Right now or I'm kicking this
fucking door down!" Hill bounced on her toes, jiggling her bosom and her
butt.

"Oh, Tina, for God's sake--"

"If I don't get a fix soon you're going to see a very ugly side of me."

"Whatever."

After a moment, Hill watched the door knob twisted and Dana emerged--lips
pursed, that goddamned eyebrow lifted, her arms full of bottles, brushes,
and other grooming gizmos. Pushed past Hill to get to the bed and let them
rattle to the bottom of her open overnight bag. "Okay. The bathroom's
yours. I'm putting on my make-up and then I'm on my way."

"I'd better smell fried dough when I get out."

"Whatever, Tina." The bag's zipper sounded sharp, then Hill followed tired
blue eyes as they grazed her own black panties and bare midriff, her
breasts encased in cotton-spandex.

Tina crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. Licked her lips.
"Don't you come back without a powdered vanilla creme."

Dana blinked. "You know, the sooner you shut up and get showered, the
sooner you can pound down your sugar."

Hill smiled and turned, pulled the bathroom door shut behind her. Twisted
the knob of the infrared tanning light and suddenly the room brightened,
like in summer when the dawn burned through overnight fog. She was
stripping off her bra when the door bumped her ass. Looked over her
shoulder to see Dana's hand place the cellular phone on the counter. "I'm
out of here. Be back in a few."

"Okay, Bunny."

The shower was warm and delicious and Tina stood in the heat and steam
until hebetude set in. Her limbs felt heavy; they wanted to pull her down.
Suck her into the drain with the hairballs and earring backs and unlucky
silverfish. Right. No help for it. With a quick motion, Tina twisted off
the hot water tap and shrieked at the ice flow. Swore and cursed and stood
there as her startled skin grew goosebumps.

"Okay! Jesus Christ, I'm awake!" She cut the tap and shoved aside the
plastic curtain, teeth chattering as she wrapped her yard of hair in a
towel. Winced and wriggled as cold wet rolled down her body to patter on
the bath mat ands he remembered jumping into snowbanks after women's
sweatlodges--remembered jumping from the second story window into a drift
that night at U of South Dakota when they'd turned the handicapped bathroom
into a sauna. What a damned fruitloop she'd been.

Hill was grinning as she patted herself dry, strolled out of the bathroom
naked with Dana's phone in hand. It vibrated slightly when it suddenly
rang. "Well, sonofabitch." She stared at the phone in surprise. Fumbled for
the connection button. "Yeah?"

"Is this Agent Scully?" An adult male. Slight northern accent--maybe
Wisconsin...or Minnesota....

"No," Tina sank down on the bed, frowning. "This is Special Agent Hill, her
partner. Who's this?"

She heard a touch of hesitation, then gentle bemusement. "I thought Fox
Mulder was her partner. Has something happened to him?"

"O-kayyy," Hill stretched out the word. "Let me rephrase: I'm her temporary
partner. Agent Mulder is otherwise occupied. Now who is this?"

"A friend. Can I speak to her?" The voice stayed soft. Teasing.

Hill's black eyes narrowed. The stupid sonofabitch was dicking with her. He
knew Mulder was out of the picture. "Agent Scully's not here," her voice
registered annoyance. "But you can talk to me. I'm almost as good as the
real thing." There was a silent pause. Hill sighed. "Listen, while you're
making up your mind, would you mind if I just put the phone down for a
minute?"

A chuckle. "Go right ahead."

Hill flashed a sarcastic smile at no one. "Thanks." Tossed the phone on the
pillows and yanked the spread off the bed to wrap around herself. It was
horrible wool-poly--itchy and slick. Tucked the phone up under her ear
again. "Okay. You talking or not?"

Another little laugh. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Actually, I was buck nekkid." She sank down again to sit on the edge of
the mattress.

"Really?"

"Yeah and don't ask for more. This isn't a one-nine-hundred line. Now what
do you want?"

The caller paused. Breathed in and out softly. "Does Agent Scully like to
star gaze?"

"No," Tina answered nonchalantly, pulling the spread closed at her throat.
"She hates stars. Why?"

"I was wondering if she'd like to check out the sky tonight--at the second
scenic overlook off the G.W. Parkway headed away from town."

"It depends on who she's going to be with. Can I tell her which 'friend' is
calling?"

Silence for a moment. "I'm more a friend of a friend."

"I see. Someone from work? Someone from the parish? Don't tell me I'm
talking to Father McCue...?"

"Like I said," the caller repeated with a slight sense of urgency, "I'm a
friend of a friend. Will you tell her to be there?"

"Maybe." Tina ran her tongue over teeth, over nasty toothpaste grit. Damn
it, she wished she had a tape recorder on this phone. "But how can I be
sure you're the Mystery Date?"

"You can't." The voice hesitated, tightened. "You're going to have to trust
me. Will you tell her?"

Hill glanced off toward the television, at Bryant Gumble and Katie Couric
yapping. "Yeah. I will," she told the caller in monotone. "And maybe she'll
come. But if she does, she won't be alone."

"We don't need a chaperone."

"Think of me more as a bouncer. Now, are we on or not, Mr. Right?"

Yet another pause. Then that same gentle little laugh. "Seven P.M." Click.
Silence.

Hill punched the disconnect and put the phone down on the mattress. Slowly
put her hands to her face, digging the heels of her palms into her eye
sockets. "This shit is getting weirder and weirder," she muttered.

--lisby@earthlink.net
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