From alchemist8@earthlink.net Sat Nov 02 12:08:59 1996
Howdy, y'all.  I've been a fan-fic writer over in the comic book ghetto
for awhile, but this is the first time I've ventured into X-Files land. 
The following story is a bit of Teliko inspired Pendrell-fancy.  I guess
it's classified short story - miscellaneous, but I'll leave the final
say to the great folks at Gossamer - Steph your archive really brightens
my day!

Third season spoilers (minor), UST (but it all belongs to Pendrell)
Rated PG

I crave feedback.

Summary:  Pendrell's instinct where Scully is concerned leads him to San
Diego, and semi-willing partner to Mulder's dangerous impulses.

-- 
**Alexandra Nigro**

X-Men, Fan-Fiction, X-Files:
http://home.earthlink.net/~alchemist8/index.html

The Southern Comfort Home Page:
http://home.earthlink.net/~alchemist8/southerncom.html

From alchemist8@earthlink.net Sat Nov 02 12:12:06 1996
They all belong to Fox and 1013.  I'm not getting a dime.


Triumph on the Nerd 1/5
by Alexandra Nigro

FBI Headquarters, Washington D.C.
Friday, November 8, 1996
10:13 am
	
	Danny Pendrell had never intended to be a lab monkey, even a
federally-funded one.  He  had grown up in an Irish Protestant household
overflowing with teenage boys.  Tall, handsome, athletic, teenage boys. 
Danny, not being tall or athletic, and not overwhelmingly handsome,
tended to stick to his homework and his much-beloved collection of pulp
mystery novels.  And even Sherlock Holmes never spent this much time
glued to a microscope.

	"So, whatcha got?"

	Pendrell looked up from the sample and sniffed.  "Synthetic polymer,
slightly worn."

	The balding agent looked excited.  "Something high-tech?"

	Pendrell smiled to himself; and they said nerds never had any fun.  "If
that's true, John Travolta was a man way ahead of his time."

	"Huh?"

	"It's polyester.  Low-quality, too - you can tell by the thread
count."  He pulled the slide off the microscope stage and placed it back
in the baggie.  "Hope that helps."

	Agent Kalkowski's eyebrows knitted in aggravation.  "It was a goddamed
Denny's.  Do you know how many people could have been wearing cheap
polyester? Christ, now I'm back to square one."

	"Sorry.  Wish I could have been more useful."  He watched the agent
leave the lab and grabbed a test form off his desk.  Scribbling out the
time and date, he came to the box titled "Subject Identification". 
Pendrell wrote with a flourish and a smile - "leisure suit".  Hell, it
wasn't like anyone but his supervisor read these damn things.  He peered
over his inbox with a sigh.  Not all of it would be this easy.  Not that
Danny Pendrell minded the work - not by a long shot.

	In high school, it was his chemistry teacher that really took notice of
his talent.  "Science, Danny, will make a difference in this world," she
would lecture.  He took her words to heart.  Pendrell did his
undergraduate chemistry work in the eighties at Cal, along with ten
thousand or so other up-and-coming yuppies.  Most of his friends were
econ majors or budding computer freaks, but Pendrell had originally
eschewed the idea of getting too involved in school-work.  At his very
first freshman party, dressed in skin tight Calvin Kleins, he
experienced his new-found major in a very personal way.  Suffering from
a noxious concoction of Malomars, rum, and marijuana, he spent the
better part of the next two days wrapped around his dorm toilet while
his roommate laughed himself into an asthma attack.  It taught him the
value of the straight-and-narrow path, as well as the importance of
having your own room.

	It wasn't until later in his collegiate career that Pendrell found
something as fascinating a mystery as his detective novels - the
wonderful world of everyday stuff.  In short, the blossoming field of
materials science.  Modern history was made of the things people created
and collected; it could tell you more about a society than all
humanities courses that Berkeley could provide.  He went on to do
graduate work, prepped for a lucrative career at Johnson & Johnson,
where the recruiter told him, "From baby shampoo to satellites - J&J
brings the future home."  On the day before presenting his graduate
thesis, a man approached him with an FBI application packet and repeated
the words of his old chemistry teacher.

	"Science, Danny, will make a difference in this world."

	At first, it seemed like a terrible idea, born of too many detective
novels and too little time in the gym.  He barely passed Quantico,
receiving an almost failing grade on his firearms examination.  Most of
his classmates were prepping to be field agents, and Danny reverently
wished to be one of them.  On his sixth miserable week in the lab at
Washington HQ, an older brunette agent came in after hours and sat
quietly at Danny's desk, staring into a cold cup of coffee.  An eight
year-old girl had been kidnapped from her Connecticut home and held for
ransom.  The FBI had been called in by the local authorities, but before
any response could be made, the girl had been found near a New Hampshire
off-ramp, fatally stabbed.  The agent had just finished assuring the
girl's frantic parents of the Bureau's success rate when the call came
in.  No linking evidence had been found except for the stationary the
kidnapper had written on.

	The agent, exhausted and on the verge of tears, asked him to give her
at least one clue - one thing she could tell the grieving parents. 
Agent Pendrell didn't go home that night, running chemical tests on the
paper and ink.  A little after four, he ending up designing his own
computer scan of the stationary, discovering a silver filament in the
parchment that he then traced to a tiny arts and crafts store in New
Haven.  Eight hours later, the brunette agent reappeared in his lab,
holding a copy of an arrest warrant.  Apparently, the shop was run by a
relative of of the family's gardener.  He had taken the girl and later
panicked, dumping her body where he had hoped the frost would hide the
evidence for at least a season.

	The commendation from the SAC of Sci-Crime had gone over very well, but
it was the trial that changed Danny Pendrell's life forever.  Watching
the parents of that dead girl collapse in each other's arms as the
guilty verdict was read opened a whole new perspective for him.  Science
could change the world - and it had nothing to do with baby shampoo.

	So, for the most part, Agent Pendrell became one of the rising stars of
the Sci-Crime lab.  Innovative, hard-working, and generally respected by
his peers, there wasn't much more that he could ask out of life but to
make a difference.  Except those detective novels still sat underneath
his bed, tempting him.  To his surprise, it wasn't some sultry
femme-fatale that waltzed into his office, bearing secret documents;but
a gorgeous pathologist bearing a microchip that spoke of possibilities
beyond his wildest nightmares.

	Nearly a year after his first run-in with Special Agent Dana Scully,
Pendrell could still remember the day in living technicolor.  Someone,
for reasons that still kept him up at night, had implanted a complex
microprocessor subcutaneously at the base of a human cerebral cortex. 
More advanced than anything he and his stable of tech-heads had ever
seen, the microchip had the theoretical capability to record and
transmit human memory.  At the time it had been little more than a
fascinating technological puzzle, one that was certain to cause a buzz
among his circle of use-net buddies.  Looking back, he winced at his
desire to show off for her, dazzling her with his knowledge and
ingenuity.  Pendrell had even investigated further to discover the maker
of the chip had been Japanese - but she had already known that, hadn't
she?  Twenty/twenty hindsight showed him how seriously his report had
affected her.

	And Dana Scully wasn't scared by just anything.  According to rumor
laced with a good dose of fact, the forensic pathologist had been
kidnapped, shot, poisoned, quarantined, and beaten - all in her brief
tenure as a field agent.  The fact that she hadn't retired or killed her
partner was something of a living legend. Sci-Crime was a hub of such
gossip; the intimate details of the most lurid cases often found
themselves skipping across the computers of the FBI's scientific elite. 
Some of the rumors that flew about Agents Mulder and Scully simply
weren't to be believed.  Relegated to the basement of HQ, the "Spooky
Duo" had the reputation of chasing the most outlandish reports all
across America.  At worst, they were crackpots and fanatics, at
best......well, Pendrell had seen that microchip.  Some of the less
charitable even claimed they were only partners because they were
sleeping together.  It was Pendrell's opinion that Dana Scully was way
to much of a pro to fall victim to the cliche of an office romance.

	It was at once an encouraging and depressing thought.

	Not, of course, that it wasn't something of a comfort.  Fox Mulder was
everything Pendrell felt he wasn't: athletic, glib, and handsome.  The
agents of the Bureau generally disliked and ridiculed Mulder, and no one
could say he didn't return the sentiment in spades.  His general
sarcastic attitude and close partnership with Scully gave Pendrell all
the ingredients for a first-class case of the green-eyed
monster......except he genuinely liked the man.  There were always field
agents that saw fit to treat support personnel like trained monkeys. 
Mulder, on the other hand, waited patiently through the inevitable
techno-speak and seemed to sincerely appreciate Pendrell's ingenuity. 
When it had been the Assistant Director's neck on the line, Mulder had
come straight to him.  The next morning Pendrell found two tickets to
the Redskins-Charger's game along with a rather quirky thank-you note.

	So, without any real intention, the cases of Mulder and Scully became
something of a hobby for Pendrell.  If pressed, it was the fascinating
scientific nature of their requests that caused him to drop everything. 
Pendrell's student intern, an obnoxious prick imported from MIT, claimed
it was the beauty of the requester that made him fumble his mouse and
clear his inbox.  Pendrell made damn sure that kid was elsewhere
whenever Agent Scully was due to drop in.

	But had he realized the scope of the chaos to follow that cold Monday
morning, Danny Pendrell would have deleted his e-mail, thrown out his
lab coat, and burned those damn mystery novels once and for all.

End Part One 

-- 
**Alexandra Nigro**

X-Men, Fan-Fiction, X-Files:
http://home.earthlink.net/~alchemist8/index.html

The Southern Comfort Home Page:
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From alchemist8@earthlink.net Sat Nov 02 12:13:16 1996
Part Two

Monday, November 11, 1996
7:00am

	Pendrell was still reluctant to kill the ignition even after he
maneuvered his Honda into the parking space below FBI HQ.  The car's
heater was blasting fiercely, making the crisp November air outside look
even less inviting.

	"One....two.....THREE!"

	In one swift motion, Pendrell ripped the keys from the ignition, flung
open the door, and made a sprinter's dash for the elevator.  Stabbing
the call button, he swore quietly as his breath gasped in white, icy
clouds.  The blessed elevator finally arrived and he leapt in, thankful
that at least this season there appeared to be no budget suspension to
cramp the federal heating bill.

	His morning routine was just that.  The lab's admin. assistant joked
that she could sometime's set her watch by Danny Pendrell's trip down
the hall for industrial strength coffee and a pack of Ho-Ho's from the
vending machine.

	"You're gonna kill yourself with that crap.  I can't believe you lab
guys eat that stuff - you of all people must know what it's made of." 

	"I was bit by a radioactive Twinkie when I was a teenager - I'm
completely immune."

	"Yea, but can you squirt cream filling out your eyeballs, Hostess-Boy?"

	"No, but I do have a shelf life of over a century."  Pendrell grinned
at her and fished inside his lab coat pocket for the keys to the main
lab.  The men and women of Sci-Crime were actually some of the luckiest
in the building.  They had a spacious fourth floor office with a
gorgeous view of downtown D.C.  The federal government had long since
decided that technology research was essential to law enforcement,
funding and equipment flowed freely in this area.

	As usual, Agent Pendrell was the first one in - and he liked it that
way.  It gave him a chance to set up the day's agenda in peace.  Shaking
the mouse to clear his screen saver, he called up his e-mail and
immediately sucked in his breath.

******

To:  dpendrell@fbi.gov
From:  dscully@fbi.gov
Subject: Tonight

	Agent Pendrell,

	I have a favor to ask on a current case.  I don't mean to impose, but I
won't be returning to the office until after eight tonight.  Would it be
possible for you to schedule a private consult?  I'd really appreciate
it.

	Dana Scully

*******

	Pendrell ran his hand nervously through his short auburn hair and
exhaled loudly.  Who said Monday's were lousy?

	It was a hard day to wait through.  His work load was relatively light
on his side of things and he was reduced to looking over the shoulder of
Agent Andy Seng-Woon, his best Comp Sci tech-head.

	"So is it recoverable?"  White Collar considered Sci-Crime better than
clerics for resurrecting trashed hard drives.  There was always some
number crunching criminal that thought the best way to avoid prosecution
was to send his data through a virus shredder.

	"I do alot better with a little piece and quiet."  The Chinese-Canadian
softened his rebuke with a smile.

	"How else am I going to learn your amazing wizardry?"  Pendrell may
have started out in Materials Science, but he quickly learned that being
a jack-of-all-trades made life a damn sight easier.

	"Eh.  You just don't like any field where you can't show off."  There
was some truth to that.  Danny wasn't real comfortable in most social
situations; in the lab he was king of the hill and liked to show it. 
"I've got a bitch of a logic bomb here."

	"I feel your pain.  Is it recoverable?"

	"Patience, young grasshopper.  Or better yet - go away."

	Pendrell surrendered and returned forlornly to his own terminal.  The
hours seemed to drag by until five, when most of his people began
bailing out for the long commute home.

	Andy swung by and patted him on the shoulder while handing him a disk. 
"This should have WC wetting their pants.  Looks like good stuff."

	"You are a God among mere mortals."

	"Tell that to Human Resources.  I haven't had a raise in ages.  Wanna
walk out together?"

	Pendrell smiled sheepishly, his face taking on a teddy-bear quality
that often had girls remarking just how cute he was - just before
brushing him off.  "I'm working late tonight."

	"Danny my boy, you really need to get a life."  Agent Seng-Woon shook
his head and hoisted up his shoulder bag.

	"Last time I checked, they were out in my price range."  He waved
goodbye to Andy and checked the clock.  Three hours to go.  He switched
to a hidden files and immersed himself in Doom.

	Pendrell did his best to look like a hardworking agent when Agent Dana
Scully finally walked through his door a little after eight-thirty.

	"God, I'm so sorry, I was held up in an autopsy in Allentown."

	He tried to come up with something suave and casual to say, but failed
miserably.  She had probably worked over a twelve-hour day and yet her
suit was still crisp and every glowing strand of red hair was still
tucked into a picture-perfect bob.  An acute observer however, could
tell by the faint circles under her eyes and her slightly forced smile
that she wasn't having a good day.

	Where Dana Scully was concerned, Pendrell was an acute observer.  "Hey,
no problem.  Can I get you some coffee or something?"

	She sat down heavily in a chair at his desk and fished into her
briefcase.  "No thanks, I want to get right on this."  She pulled a
small plastic container from her briefcase, no bigger than a film
casing.

	Pendrell nearly swallowed his tongue.  "You have another one?"

	Scully set the tube holding the microchip beside his keyboard. 
Grabbing a stack of photos from a folder she motioned for Pendrell to
look.

	"Marlena Nielson, age thirty-seven.  Massive bone, uterine, and
pancreatic cancer.  A year ago, this chip was removed approximately two
inches below the base of her skull.  Autopsy revealed a tight formation
of malignancies surrounding the scar tissue of the implant site."

	"Wow."  It really didn't seem appropriate enough.  "Who put it there? 
Why?"

	Scully looked up at him.  God she seemed tired - and scared.  "I don't
have the answers to that.  I want you to do another examination of the
chip.  See if their are any differences between this.......and the last
one.  I also need to know if this thing was the primary agent in her
cancer."

	"You think this thing is carcinogenic?"  Pendrell's mind reeled.  What
the hell was going on?

	"I was hoping you could determine that.  I know you're not a medical
doctor, but I'm not up on this sort of thing.  I'll give you whatever
help I can."  She paused for a moment.  "I'd appreciate if we could keep
this investigation between you and me."

	"And Agent Mulder, you mean."

	She flushed slightly.  "He's busy.....on other things.  I really don't
want to bother him with this until I have more information."

	Pendrell fingered the tube thoughtfully.  Every element of this case
made his skin crawl.  He was sure that Scully was only giving him
fraction of the information - for reasons that made him nervous. 
However, she had come to him.  What kind of man would say no?

	"I'm happy to help."

End Part Two

-- 
**Alexandra Nigro**

X-Men, Fan-Fiction, X-Files:
http://home.earthlink.net/~alchemist8/index.html

The Southern Comfort Home Page:
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From alchemist8@earthlink.net Sat Nov 02 12:14:25 1996
Part Three

Tuesday, November 12, 1996
2:35 pm

	It took him two cups of his usual coffee-flavored sludge to get him
going the next day.  He worked quietly through most of the afternoon,
earning him curious looks from Andy.

	"Hey, man.  What has you so engrossed over there?"

	"Um.....forensics picked up a weird kind of teflon-bullet from that
Chicago bank robbery.  They sent it over for a structural work up."

	"The new battle cry of Elliot Ness - Send in the nerds."  Andy laughed,
but not too bitterly.  He was already married, with two kids.

	Pendrell couldn't help but return the banter, even though his real
attention was centered on a manila file buried under his 'busywork'. 
"I'm not a nerd, I'm cerebrally developed."

	"Whatever gets you through the day."

	It took all of Pendrell's self-control not to ask for his friend's help
with the chip.  Andy had been his original consult on Scully's first
sample - his input had been invaluable.  As it was, Pendrell had brought
a thick stack of technical journals up from the basement, and they sat
on his desk - lurking.  It was going to be a long evening.

	As soon as he was alone, Pendrell worked feverishly to clear his work
area.  Sliding the chip under the high-powered microscope, he began his
careful examination.  He didn't even hear her come in.

	"Find anything yet?"  

	Pendrell jerked his head up at Scully's tired voice.  It appeared she
had gotten as little sleep as he.

	"I'm trying to find something we don't already know.  It appears to be
the same chip - incredible density, gigascale integration.  Like I said
the last time, this kind of technology is really only theoretically
possible."  A flash of memory came to him.

	So it's man made?

	Of course, what else would it be?

	She certainly hadn't meant to imply that the chip had been natural, so
who......oh damn.  There were more than a few rumors that Scully and
Mulder had been involved in investigations that were more appropriate to
episodes of the "Outer Limits".  She didn't think this thing came from
E.T., did she?

	Scully's measured voice brought him back to reality.  "Is it the same
manufacturer?  The one that was linked to Zama?"

	"Well, no - that's the interesting part.  I couldn't find any company
name, except for a symbol."  Pendrell grabbed the mouse and pulled up a
.jpg file on the screen.  It was a extreme blow-up of an etching that he
had found at the lower right-hand corner of the chip, a stylized "A"
inside a five-pointed star.  "I checked it out, it belongs to Apollo
Medical Supplies Inc.  Their main offices are located in San Diego. 
Apollo Inc. is mainly involved with supplying standard hospital
equipment, this is so far out of their league that I can't even
comprehend why their logo would appear on the chip."

	Scully appeared lost in thought.  "Were you able to determine the
chip's role as a carcinogenic agent?"

	Pendrell looked at her oddly, her voice had taken on a lower, more
disturbed timbre.  He called up the schematic on the screen and turned
to face her.  "Given what happened the last time we tried to analyze it,
I've been reluctant to run the same testing series.  I suppose it's
possible that whatever signal transmission this microprocessor gave off
could interfere with normal cell mitosis - but like you said, I'm not a
doctor."

	She bent her head, a lock of red hair fell forward over her eyes as her
shoulders sunk.  "There could have been a number of reasons for the
localized malignancies....I guess I was just looking for a solid
answer."

	Pendrell fought the insane urge to pull her into his arms.  "Hey, I'm
not the only one who could help.  There's another agent in the lab with
computer specialization, Agent Andy Seng-Woon, if I brought him in
on...."

	Scully jerked her head up abruptly.  "No, I...."  As she waved her
hand, she hit the edge of Pendrell's coffee cup, spilling the thick
black liquid over the top of the desk and dripping on to the floor.  "Oh
God..."

	Pendrell quickly grabbed for the files and leaped back.  "Hey, it's no
problem."

	With quick, irritated movements, Dana Scully grabbed some paper towels
off the wall dispenser and crouched down to clean up the mess.

	Pendrell couldn't explain what gave him the urge.  Leaning over, he
gently swept the auburn hair off the back of her neck, revealing a thin,
vertical, pink scar approximately two inches from the base of her skull.

	Scully moved away, startled.  "What are you doing?"  Her hand was
clamped self-consciously over the back of her neck.

	Pendrell's voice was very soft.  "That first chip was removed from your
neck, wasn't it?"

	Her eyes grew large and liquid.  Grabbing her briefcase, the normally
composed pathologist bolted from the lab.

	Pendrell sat down heavily, numb.  "Jesus."




Arlington, Virginia
Tuesday, November 12, 1996
10:06pm

	Danny Pendrell pulled his battered Honda into the parking garage of his
apartment complex a little after ten.  Resting a moment on the steering
wheel, he chided himself for the hundredth time since pulling onto the
Beltway.

	Would it have been possible to be more insensitive?

	Grabbing his briefcase, Pendrell pulled himself from the car and
stopped abruptly at the site of the other man leaning nonchalantly
against the hood of a gray Ford Taurus.

	"You're a late worker."  Fox Mulder pulled another sunflower seed from
his pocket and cracked it loudly.

	"Um....hello, Agent Mulder."  Pendrell fidgeted with his tie, outside
the lab he always felt a little vulnerable.

	"I'm impressed.  It's pretty hard to spook Scully."  He smirked, "at
least when you're not a professional Spookster."  He forestalled
Pendrell's nervous stutter with a little mercy.  "Don't worry about it. 
She told me everything - you and I need to have a little chat."

	His tone of voice made Pendrell's palms sweat.  "Actually Agent Mulder,
it's kinda late...."

	"There are no off hours when you choose to join the club, Pendrell." 
Mulder smiled at him with some sympathy.  "Can we talk in private?  Then
I'll leave you to do whatever it is you do."

	Pendrell led the taller agent up to his apartment and gestured feebly
at his worn couch.  "Um...take a seat, it's not much."

	Mulder smiled and let his coat fall off his lanky form.  "It's alot
cleaner than mine, but that's not saying much."  He sat on the couch
besides Pendrell and leaned back.  "I assume you have some questions?"

	Pendrell began to regret his behavior in the lab more than he thought
possible.  "It's really none of my business."

	"Maybe.  Maybe not.  But you've been a big help to us and Scully and I
have decided that it's safer for all of us to brief you."  His voice
turned deadly serious.  "This information pertains to an unofficial
case, but don't let that fool you.  Keeping this to yourself will be
alot healthier."

	Mulder looked down at his hands, apparently as uncomfortable with the
subject as Pendrell.  "Scully was kidnapped nearly two years ago by a
man named Duane Barry.  We don't have many clues as to her whereabouts
during that time, and I'll admit that our opinions....differ."

	"They hurt her, didn't they?"

	Mulder gave Pendrell an appraising look.  Apparently, he liked what he
saw.  "They nearly killed her - some sort of medical test.  A year after
that she discovered a microchip in the base of her neck.  It appears
that it's not an isolated incident.  Some of the victims have suffered
serious medical problems.  She doesn't admit it often, but I think that
really scares her."

	"Agent Mulder...that chip, the implications..."

	Mulder smiled wryly.  "You'll sleep better at night if you don't think
about the implications."  He rose and grabbed his coat.  "Scully and I
will be leaving for San Diego tomorrow.  I want you to know that I
appreciate your help."

	"I'd do anything to help her."

	Mulder turned and looked thoughtful.  "Yes, I think you would."  He
paused, his hand on the doorknob.  "I can get you a seat on the 6am
flight.  You'll have to take vacation, this should be unofficial."

	"I'm not a field agent."

	A fleeting sadness passed over Mulder's long features.  "Neither was
she.  Can I count on you?"

	Pendrell swallowed heavily but met Mulder's stare.  "You both can."

End Part Three

-- 
**Alexandra Nigro**

X-Men, Fan-Fiction, X-Files:
http://home.earthlink.net/~alchemist8/index.html

The Southern Comfort Home Page:
http://home.earthlink.net/~alchemist8/southerncom.html

From alchemist8@earthlink.net Sat Nov 02 12:15:43 1996
Part Four

San Diego, California
Wednesday, November 12 
4:35pm

	Pendrell cursed softly as he ran through the crowded terminal at
Washington National Airport.  Spotting two familiar people dressed in
tell-tale conservative suits, he gave a brief wave.

	He was more than a little disappointed, but not surprised, when Scully
returned his greeting with a tight smile.  He stood awkwardly with the
two experienced agents until the gate attendant called their rows. 
Mulder handed him a ticket sureptisously.  "You're not sitting with us. 
I'd rather not have an obvious paper trail."

	Pendrell watched wistfully as the two agents stowed their luggage with
an ease of familiarity that spoke of years of companionship.  In the
lab, while they certainly respected each other, there simply wasn't the
atmosphere to form those kinds of relationships.  Flipping open his
PowerBook, Pendrell stole one last glance at Dana Scully.  Given her
probably feelings towards him, there may never be the atmosphere for
that kind of relationship either.

	San Diego was a welcome change from the bitter chill of Washington
D.C.  Still, Pendrell saw a number of natives clutching windbreakers and
muttering darkly at the clear blue sky dotted with clouds.  Feeling very
much like a third wheel, he followed Mulder and Scully's brisk walk down
the sidewalk to a waiting taxi.

	"Marriott Courtyard."

	Scully turned from the front seat and gave her partner an appraising
look.  "We're moving up in the world."

	"I begged.  If Accounting had their way, we'd probably be sleeping on
the beach."

	Pendrell sat quietly next to Mulder and desperately tried to feel a
part of the comfortable silence that the two agents shared.  It didn't
work - he was a natural talker.  "I've never been to San Diego."

	"I used to live here."  Scully's voice was far away.

	The Marriott Courtyard was a mid-level establishment, mostly stocked
with business travelers.  Mulder returned from the desk and flipped
Pendrell a card key.  You're across the hall from us.  Be ready at six
tomorrow, we've got an appointment at Apollo Inc.  All business, Mulder
and Scully grabbed their suitcases in unison and started off down the
hall.

	Pendrell fumbled for his case strap.  "Us?" he wondered.  Were the
rumors true after all?  It was a huge relief to watch the two agents
enter adjoining - but separate - rooms.  He unpacked his case, making
sure everything was neatly stored away.  Finally, he came to a leather
holster at the bottom.  Like all agents, Pendrell had been trained in
firearms; he had requested his own personal issue to prevent another
poor performance on his yearly evaluations.  Originally, he had felt
foolish packing it - it wasn't like he was here to play James Bond.  But
there was something about Mulder's manner that night in his apartment
that indicated that it was better to be safe than sorry.

	He tapped lightly on Mulder's door.

	"Come in."

	Pendrell opened the door to find the agents dressed, breakfasted, and
consulting over some documents spread over Mulder's bed.  Smiling shyly
at Scully, he said "Good morning."

	Holding a small laminate badge up to the light, Mulder cut in.  "Nice
to meet you Dr. Howard."

	"Excuse me?"

	Mulder pinned the badge on Pendrell's lapel.  "You, my friend, are Dr.
Allen Howard of the Environmental Protection Agency." He motioned to
Scully.  "This is Dr. Erica Schroder from Johns Hopkins, and I am Mark
Betford, your administrative assistant."  He shot Scully a wry grin. 
"She said she'd break my legs if she had to be the secretary."

	"I've seen you in an autopsy bay, Mulder.  I just thought you'd make a
pretty pathetic doctor."

	Pendrell was still gaping at his badge.  It was perfectly constructed,
complete with a recent photo.  "How did you do this?  I hope you didn't
go through the Bureau."

	"We have some friends with unique talents.  Those babies are as close
to the real thing as you can get."

	"Isn't this illegal?  I mean, impersonating federal employees?"

	Mulder fumbled through the papers on the bed.  "We are federal
employees, Pendrell.  Today we're just different ones."  He pulled up a
typed sheet.  "We are due for a EPA inspection tour at Apollo Inc.  Or
at least, according to their computers."  He turned back to Pendrell,
serious.  "We're only going to get one shot at this.  I need your eyes
to tell me whatever you can about their technical equipment, Scully will
handle the biological end of things.  Are you game?"

	"Do I need to get my gun?"

	"Only if you think we'll get caught in a drive-by shooting - but I have
to say, this is La Jolla."



Apollo Medical Supplies Inc.
7:30am

	"I can't believe scheduling got this mixed up, but I do have to say are
people are ready for a surprise inspection any day.  We pride ourselves
on our adherence to federal and state safety standards."  The PR
representative fidgeted with his tie, smiling suruply at Pendrell.

	Danny, for his part, was absolutely sure he was sweating though his lab
coat.  All three agents were similarly decked out in white coats bearing
a bright pink 'visitor' badges and the Apollo star logo.

	Scully took the lead and Pendrell blessed her for it.  "We're glad to
hear it.  There are a number of bio-tech companies in this area who
couldn't make the same claim."

	The smile froze slightly on the PR rep.  "Yes, well, if you'll follow
me."  He led his tour through the massive complex, babbling merrily
about industry standards and waste disposal.  Mulder leaned in toward
Pendrell's ear.  "This is one of the things I like about Scully, she can
keep any guy talking."  He ignored Pendrell's sudden cough and
continued.  "I feel like I'm on the field trip from hell - do you see
anything odd?"

	Pendrell looked through the plate glass window to the R & D bay below. 
"I don't know," he whispered, "I need to get a closer look."

	Mulder cleared his throat softly and Scully turned back from where the
PR rep had firmly grasped her elbow.  Pendrell watched in amazement as
they simply exchanged gazes and Scully turned back to her audience with
a new purpose.  "Perhaps you could give us a tour of this facility."

	Her guide seemed to hesitate slightly, certainly just let me clear
it."  He spoke quietly in a cell-phone, then turned back to his
charges.  "If you'll follow me."

	Pendrell followed Scully into the clean lab, taking in the view.  As
far as his experience went, nothing seemed out of place.  While Scully
distracted their guide, he walked over to an exam table and ran his
gloved hand over the equipment.  Ordinary, if high-end.  He motioned
over the area and spoke up for the first time.  "What's over here?"

	The PR representative genuinely brightened.  "Our pride and joy. 
Apollo is looking to lead the way in X-ray and CAT technology.  Recent
advancements with our software partners indicate that Apollo may soon
revolutionize the industry."

	"Your partners?" Mulder chimed.
The PR rep seemed startled, like he was noticing Mulder for the first
time.

	"Rydell Microchip."

End Part Four

-- 
**Alexandra Nigro**

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