Subject: Just Like Old Times, part 3

From: [email-masked] (Michael Francis)
Date: 13 Nov 1994 03:11:25 GMT

Just Like Old Times, part 3 

Synopsis of parts 1 and 2:  While enlisting Agent Mulder's unofficial 
help on a grisly serial murder case, Agent Scully introduces him to her 
old school chum, Lenore (Lenny) Pape.  Lenny has problems of her own; a 
haunted dinette set that answers her questions.  Mulder becomes 
interested...in the dinette set, too.  Things take a frightening turn 
when the two cases combine, and Lenny is attacked by the killer known as 
"The Washington Ripper."

*********Some sexual content, PG
Part 3

  Mulder looked up from the phone booth when he heard running feet.  
Suddenly, Bud was talking to empty air.  In a ring of light shed by a 
street lamp, Mulder found Lenny's shoe.  He picked it up and started 
toward the empty lot.
  ""Lenny?"  he strained to see.  A car went by, and something in the 
grass reflected it's light.  He crouched down, took out the ever-present 
handkerchief, and picked it up.  It was a scalpel.  With a modicum of 
relief, he noted there was no blood on the blade.  "Lenny,-"  he 
repeated.
  There was a raspy croaking noise, and a hand grabbed his leg, nearly 
sending him out of his skin.  He stood, pulling the hand with him, and 
hoisted Lenny into his arms.
  "Are you all right?"  he asked, brushing her hair out of her face.
  She nodded, croaked, and touched her throat.
  "You can't talk?"  Far off, there was the crack of gunshot.  "Let's 
get you upstairs."  he said, and guided her home.
  As Mulder hoped, Bud's suspicious nature got him out of bed and sent 
him straight to Lenny's in fifteen minutes.  By then, Lenny was 
comfortably bedded down; a litter of written notes near her bed.  She 
was sure she wasn't badly hurt, but Mulder worried anyway.
  "Do you have a mobile?"  he asked Bud.
  "Don't you know those things cause brain tumors?"
  "Damn!  Mine is being repaired; tonight, of all times.  Look, Bud; 
stay here with Lenny.  I need to go down the block and make a few phone 
calls."
  "Sure, but what-"
  "Just don't leave her here alone."
  "Sure."
  "And don't bug her, O.K.?"
  "Waddaya think I am?"
  Mulder glanced away and smiled a little.  "Just a bit driven."
  "Yeah, well, I'm not completely insensitive.  Go make your phone 
calls."

  Forty five minutes after Mulder had found Lenny's shoe, he was still 
holding it and nervously pacing the floor.  Scully had come, bringing 
with her an associate who was also an ear, nose, and throat man.  When 
they emerged from Lenny's room, Mulder froze and awaited the news.
  "Thanks, Glenn."  Scully spoke to her associate.  "Again, sorry to get 
you out of bed."
  "No problem."  He answered good naturedly.  "Gotta hit the links 
early, anyway."
  She gave him his coat and walked him out.  When she came back in, 
Mulder looked like he was about to loose it.
  "She'll be fine."  Scully let him off the hook.  "Some bruising and 
soreness, but no permanent damage.  What's he doing here?"  she glanced 
at Bud.
  "Hi Dana."  Bud said, with a particularly lavicious smile.
  Mulder glared at him surreptitiously.  "I was on the phone with him 
when...- can I go in and see her?"     
  "Go ahead, but let her rest if she gets tired."
  Mulder knocked briefly and went in.  Lenny was sitting up in bed, 
grinning at him sheepishly.  "Lenny,"  he let his eyes slide away.  "I'm 
sorry; I should have been watching."  He stopped when he heard her 
scribbling away on a pad of paper.  She ripped off the sheet and gave it 
to him.
  "It's not your fault."  the note read.  "I'm an adult.  You're not my 
baby-sitter."
  "But still,-"
  She smacked the bed covers and shook her finger at him, then wrote 
something else.
  "Drop it."  she wrote.  "You didn't tell Dana what I told you, did 
you?"
  "No reason to."  he answered.  "Even if she did believe it, it wont 
help her with her case.  Did you give her a description of the guy?"
  She dug a note out of the crumpled bits of paper.  It listed a limited 
description.
  "I didn't see much, either."  he said.  He took a slip of paper out of 
his pocket.  "Anything you want to add to this before I give it to Bud?"
  She shook her head.
  "He's going to be ecstatic.  A spectral manifestation.  Do you think 
it was your chair jiggler?"
  She nodded.  After a moment, she wrote another note.  It read "You're 
missing a golden opportunity here.  You can tell me anything you want, 
and I can't talk back."
  He looked at the note for a moment.  "It's not as much fun that way."
  She gave him a big smile, then sighed with frustration.
  "Well,"  he said, putting down the notes and moving closer.  "maybe we 
can still play.  Let's see if you can find a way to tell me what's on 
your mind right now."
  Her smile came back, and she leaned in to kiss him.
  A moment later, Scully walked it.  "I think- oh, I-"
  "It's all right."  Mulder said, and stood up.  "Bud and I have some 
work to do.  Scully, how long can you stay?  I'll be back to relieve you 
when-"  He had to stop, because Lenny jumped out of bed, pointed toward 
her two perfectly good legs, and shooed him out the door.  "O.k., o.k., 
I'll be back tonight."
  Lenny gave him a thank-you-very-much smile, and shut the door.
  Scully was still staring.  "You have got to be kidding."
  Lenny indicated she begged to differ.
  "How?  Good Lord, why?"
  With a sigh and a shrug, Lenny hopped back onto the bed.
  "This isn't fair; I can't get any details."
  Lenny leaned against the wall, her hands behind her head and a 
self-satisfied grin on her face.
  "Well, sober up."  Scully got back to business.  "We've got about 
eight hours before the evening edition hits the stands, and I'll bet 
anything you're in it.  You'd better come up with something good between 
now and then, before your parents march right out here and put an end to 
your little bohemian adventure.  Oh, and I'd leave out any reference to 
the dancing dinette, or you'll find yourself in a posh establishment 
with lovely rolling hills, and bars on the windows."  She paused, 
mellowed, and smiled.  "This is like back in school.  I was always 
fishing you out of trouble."
  Lenny looked shocked and appalled.  She scribbled out three words.  
"Billy Harken's note."
  Scully smiled and blushed a little.  "O.k., so there was that one 
time.  Well, that time you helped me cram for the Lit. exam."
  Lenny nodded, vindicated.
  "So now will you tell me what scared away the attacker?"
  Fortunately, there was readily available sign language for the phrase 
Lenny chose to express.

  When Mulder knocked on Lenny's door at around midnight, she answered 
wearing a long sleeved, off the shoulder, black cocktail dress.
  "About time you showed up."  She said in a low gravelly voice.
  "Did I miss something?"  He asked.
  "Not yet.  I just got back from dinner at my parent's house.  Had to 
put in an appearance."
  "Clever."  he said, touching the pearl choker she wore to hide the 
bruises.
  "Come on in.  Bud's already here."
  "Too bad."  he mumbled, and followed her in.  "So, Bud; were you 
camped out in the hallway?"
  "I'd say it was worth the wait."  Bud grinned with an only partly mock 
leer.  "Don'tcha love the voice?  She's got a kinda Patricia Neal thing 
going there."
  "Yeah, right.  What are you doing here?"
  "He wanted to convince me to sit in the chair."  Lenny answered.  
"From the beginning."
  "And?"
  "I agreed."
  "You sure you want to do that?"
  "I want this over.  Besides, I guess I owe it to her.  She probably 
saved my life.  The least I can do is find out what it is she wants."
  "I took the description home,"  Bud said, "and tried to pin down a 
time period for the clothing.  No luck."
  "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll get changed."
  "Not on my account, I hope."  Bud grinned again.
  Mulder shot him a disparaging look, and followed Lenny down the short 
hallway.  "I need to tell you something."  he called after her.  She 
left the bedroom door open, letting him follow her in.  He shut the door 
behind him.
  "Isn't this where you say something macho, like you think I clean up 
pretty good?"
  "No, this is where I show you this."  He pulled a newspaper out of his 
coat pocket and unfolded it.  Across the top of the page read "Socialite 
attacked by Ripper".
  "Thank God I got to my parents before they saw that.  Oh, that picture 
must be five years old!  Hey, should they be allowed to print that?  I 
mean, what if that guy decides he wants to get the one that got away?  
Now he knows who I am."
  "Exactly what I was thinking."  He dropped the paper on the bed.  
"You're going to have to be extra careful.  The way I see it, you can 
ask for police protection,..."
  "Or?"
  "Move out of here.  Preferably in with someone else."
  "I'm not going back to my parents.  I've been all over this with 
Dana."
   "I wasn't thinking of your parents."
  "Well-"  Lenny's jaw dropped when she caught on.  Closing her mouth, 
she paced a little.  "My job.  I have to be able to get to and from 
work."
  "That's another thing.  You need to take a vacation, or quit.  If he 
finds out that's part of your normal routine,-"
  "I can't quit my job."
  "Lenny, we're talking about your life here."
  "Exactly.  I need a job to live.  I can't afford to be out of work."
  "Lenny,"  he walked up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. 
 "You can afford it.  I accessed your bank balance,-"
  "You WHAT?!" She spun around to face him.
  "There's over two hundred thousand-"
  "You had no right!  Besides, that's my parents' money.  I explained 
that to you."
  "It's a matured trust fund."
  "It's-"  She cut short, glaring at him.  "It's only for emergencies."
  "Well,"  he laughed bitterly, "I'd say this qualifies as an 
emergency."
  Her shoulders fell, and she looked away.  "Why?"  she asked quietly.
  "Because I don't want to see you in the papers again."
  "No,"  she shook her head.  "That's not the whole truth."
  "Maybe when I get the whole truth, I'll give the whole truth."
  Her head snapped up, and she stared at him for awhile.  "Isn't there 
some kind of fire law or something that limits how many issues you can 
cram into a room at one time?"
  "Are you going to move out of here?"
  "I need to think about it."
  "I think it should be tonight."
  "Don't push me."  She picked up the newspaper and threw it onto the 
floor.  "Damn!"  she said, looking up at him.  "What you did was rotten, 
and you know it.  I shouldn't forgive you, and maybe I wont, but I 
probably will; because...because...-I don't know why.  Because by now 
I'm so screwed up in the head I don't know what I'm doing."
  "Really?  You strike me as the type who always knows what she's 
doing."
  Lenny laughed silently.  "No, I only say I always know what I'm 
doing."  She shook her head, smiling faintly.  "You know, I think I 
could hate you."
  "That's not the truth."
  "You're right.  Now get out, so I can change.  I don't fancy thrashing 
around on the floor in my good dress."
  He couldn't resist it.  "Not even for me?"
  "Out!" 

  Lenny sat, waiting for something to happen.  Wires snaked from her 
body, and the chair itself, to various pieces of equipment.  There was 
no sound, but the whir of machinery.
  Suddenly, she cried out and stiffened.  Without looking, Bud thrust 
his arm out to restrain Mulder.
  "Look at the readings."  Bud said.  "She's fine."
  "Isn't her heart rate too high?"
  "For what?  A quick walk around the block could get it higher than 
that.  Relax."
  Tears silently rolled down Lenny's cheeks.
  "Bud,"
  "She's fine.  Look at  her brain waves.  All within normal 
parameters."
  "Since when are you a doctor?  Aren't the people you examine usually 
already dead?"
  Bud craned his neck to look at his friend.  "You know, you got a real 
mean streak in you.  You might wanna work on that." 
  "Just watch the monitors."
  Lenny started to move.  "O.k,"  she said.  "O.k., I promise....No, 
I'll make sure...Yes.  You can."  With a shuddering sigh, she woke up.
  "Well?"  Mulder and Bud said simultaneously.
  Lenny leaned forward and wiped her face with her hands.  She looked 
>from one to the other, as she peeled electrodes off various parts of her 
body.  "Gimmie a minute."  she said quietly.
  Bud went around shutting off equipment, except for an audio cassette 
recorder.  Mulder stood up and paced a little.
  "Do you want anything?"  he asked.  "Some coffee?"
  "Oh, geez; that'd be great."  she said, looking up.  "Thanks."
  "No problem."
  By the time he got back and handed her the steaming cup, she was 
ready.
  "Her name is Naomi Cooper.  She grew up in Groton Massachusetts.  She 
lost her father and two brothers to the war.  That's the Civil War, by 
the way.  She and her mother went to live at her grandparent's house, 
but it was hard.  One day, she cut her hair and signed up."
  Bud was about to speak, but Lenny cut him off.
  "She went by the name of Nathan Cooper, her youngest brother who had 
died in childbirth.  That's how she got adequate documentation; though 
by those days, they weren't really checking too hard.  She saw some 
action, got promoted to corporal, even made some friends. Once, in 
Virginia, her unit came across a farm house.  None of the men were home. 
 She was sick for a week over what the soldiers did there.  She still 
believed in the cause, though, so she kept on.  After all, rumors of 
what the Rebel men did were even worse.