A Taste of the Unexpected

The Sixth Sense is the property of Spyglass Entertainment, Hollywood Pictures, and M. Night Shyamalan. X Files is the property of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. I ain't using them for profit, just a little fun. Don't sue me, I'm penniless!

Rating: PG-13

Special Agent Cole Sear sat in the office, nervously awaiting the arrival of Assistant Director Mulder. He had not too long completed his training and had been on a couple of nondescript cases with his soon to be retired partner. The last case had gone pretty badly, and now he had been summoned for an interview. A summons from AD Mulder was like a summons from God.

To calm himself, he looked slowly around the office. A childhood psychiatrist had taught him how to focus himself, calm his breathing and his mind. He laughed bitterly at that thought. Back then, they all thought his problems were "all in his mind".

The office was stark, like a reflection of the Assistant Director. No personal items, like photos or mementoes. It was strange, almost like they didn't exist.

As his eyes swept past the bookcase, he realised that the temperature was dropping rapidly. He cursed under his breath; he knew what that meant. A ghost was in the in the room with him. As his gaze swept the corner, he saw it. There was a man standing in the corner; he was dressed in shirt and tie, and dark slacks. His pristine white shirt was covered in blood. Staring out his pallid face were sharp brown eyes, highlighted by his small rimmed glasses. He looked like he had been a strong man in his lifetime. But he had something to say now, and he wasn't going to rest until he got justice.

"Tell Dana that the Consortium killed me, and I have proof to show that they have been behind every major governmental conspiracy for the last 100 years."

Cole stared at him. "Who are you? And who is Dana?" He demanded of the apparition.

"Scully." It replied and disappeared as the door opened and AD Mulder strode in.

X X X

I had heard all about the rookie. What had first brought my attention to him was that he had the nickname "Spooky". Sounds familiar?

He was partnered with Special Agent Nicolas Grant, who was due for retirement soon. We -- that is, management -- figured that it was a safe partnership, but he seemed to be getting the same reputation as the other Spooky that I knew so well.

The X files were going to be reopened; a lot has happened in the last twenty years. Cancer Man was dead, as was the Consortium, but, all efforts to get the X files back on track were thwarted. I'm starting to wonder if the Consortium really was dead, or if they had found some way to keep themselves alive and kicking…

As I rode the elevator up to my office, it gave the chance to reflect on the rest of my day. It was almost 5 p.m., and my interview with SA Sear was the last official thing of the day. Of course, that didn't mean that my day finished there. What with all the paper work, things to sign, people to fire, and all that shit, I wouldn't be home until after ten tonight. It was a marvel that my marriage didn't suffer. We're too alike in that department to notice.

But back to SA Sear. "Spooky" Sear. I've read his personnel file. His ESP scores were 100 percent. Uncanny. His personal profile showed someone who was driven and believed that the truth was out there. He had been an excellent student during high school, college and Quantico. He'd had a rough childhood; at one point one of his psychologists had intimated that he was mad. His teachers had all complained about his short attention span, yet his grades hardly suffered. He'd been hospitalised for various cuts and bruises, which pointed to abuse, but that had never been proven. Yet all this had stopped after the age of 9. Maybe he had been delusional, I'm not sure. His parents had divorced when he was young, I suspect that all of this was the result of wanting attention. He was an only child and the divorce had to have hit him hard. I think he just wanted to be heard. All in all, he made an excellent candidate for the X files division. It's a pity that Cole Sear didn't know that. He was sitting in my office right now, probably pissing himself from fear. His last case had been a disaster, and he thought - and I know he thought this - that I was going to rake him over the coals. I know my reputation, and it isn't good. God, it doesn't get any better than this!

I composed my face into a suitably stern mask and entered my office.

I caught his terrified glance as he swung his face around and forced himself to face my desk. Just as I thought. He's scared shitless!

"Special Agent Cole Sear…" I said drawing out his name, and coming to sit down behind my spartan desk. I remember when Skinner used to do this to us, all the time. "Thank you for give up some of your time to be here."

I made it sound as if he had a choice! Such are the perks of being an Assistant Director.

He nodded dumbly.

I settled back in the plush leather chair, ready to take the upper hand and make him squirm for a while. What he did next surprised the hell out of me.

"Who's Dana?" he blurted out. "And what does she have to do with the man who died in this office?"

X X X

There was a careful pause, while Cole mentally kicked him self. He couldn't believe that he'd cried out like that. He had been brought up better than that…but then, the man in the corner had been there for a while. Cole could sense his urgency. It radiated off him like nervous energy.

He searched the AD's face for some kind of reaction. Didn't they know that someone had died violently in this office?

"What do you know about the man who died in here?"

"I can see him." Cole turned and pointed in the direction of the far corner, where he had reappeared.

"What the hell do you mean, you can see him?"

Cole decided to take the bull by the horns and tell his superior the truth. "I see ghosts."

There was another careful pause, then:

"What the hell do you mean, you see ghosts?"

"I have sixth sense. I'm psychic. I can see ghosts." Cole took a deep breath and said - "The man is behind you."

"Describe him!" The AD's voice was surpisingly urgent.

"Tall, brown eyes, serious looking, wears glasses."

"Skinner!" Assistant Director Mulder gasped. "Walter Skinner was my boss when I was out in the field. An intruder shot him in his office. It happened under mysterious circumstances. The case was never solved."

"The tape has all the evidence." Skinner told Cole, then told him to "look behind his first edition copy of "Hamlet". The evidence is all there."

Cole relayed the information to his superior, who in turn got up and did as the younger agent directed. As he had said, there was a videotape flat against the wall. They took out the tape, put it in the VCR in a corner of the office and sat back to watch.

X X X

This has to be the strangest interview that I have had for a long time. It started out as a promotion for a talented Special Agent, and had developed into my personal edition of Unsolved Mysteries. A fifteen year old mystery was being solved, and by a ghost, no less. I believe in all those kinds of things: ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. Experience has taught me that there are stranger things in life. I just wonder how often old Walt had stood behind me. waiting for the opportunity to come for him to pass on the message…

The tape was a revelation in itself. It implicated some of the most revered and senior names in American government. I was shocked. Or maybe not. I wondered how I was going to get anyone to listen to this. This was an excellent first case for the X files. I just need to find a partner for him.

After the tape had finished and Cole had composed himself, I told him about the X files and that I wanted him to be a part of it. We were still screening for his partner, but we would have one soon…

Cole mulled that for a while; I could almost see his brain processing the information.

"This will be the first case for the Division." I told him.

That made it easier for him, and he told me he was ready to start when I was. We got the formalities over and done with, then he got up and shook my hand. As he straightened his tie and got ready to leave, a funny look crossed his face, and he asked me:

"But what about Dana? He wanted me to tell Dana. How will she get the message?"

For the first time in two hours, I smiled, pulling a stray piece of my auburn hair away from my face. "She just did."

© Chaynne Taylor/Shateri Jordan, 1997-2004

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