From: Marguerite@operanospammail.com
Date: Wed, 09 May 2001 06:51:07 -0500
Subject: NEW - "Dead Tape" (1/1) XF/WW crossover 
Source: atxc

Title: Dead Tape
Author: Marguerite 
Classification: Uh...Post-ep for "DeadAlive" and "Three Words." 
Crossover with West Wing at some point before "17 People." 
Some humor, some angst. Slice of life. 
Rating: PG (language) 
Spoilers: Let's assume everything in XF through "Empedocles" and
everything in WW through "The Stackhouse Filibuster,"
particularly "The Shadow of Two Gunmen" and "Noel."
Feedback: Please, at <Marguerite@operamail.com> 
Archive: Yes to Gossamer and Ephemeral. Anyone else, please link to it
at http://dreamwater.org/marguerite/deadtape.html and let
me know where it ends up.

Thanks to Barbara D. for having to beta in two universes at
once, all for the low, low price of my eternal gratitude.


***

"Explain to me again, Leo, why I'm having to take this
meeting."

The President sat behind his desk, taking perverse enjoyment
in seeing Leo McGarry shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
If he knew Leo, and he did, then his friend was waiting for
him to snap like an overstretched rubber band.

"It's a personal request, sir. Their boss is an old friend,
someone I trust, and he's never asked me for a favor in the
twenty years I've known him."

"So he's called in that favor now, when I had one foot out
the door to go visit Ellie?"

"There's an element of urgency, sir, or it would've kept for
a while. I think this will be quick."

Jed Bartlet looked into Leo's eyes. "Why do I have the
feeling that this will be anything but quick?"

"Because you always know when I'm shoveling the manure
really, really hard, sir."

While the two men laughed, the door opened slightly. Mrs.
Landingham's sleekly-tressed gray head appeared in the
doorway. "Your one o'clocks are here to see you, sir, and
I'm going to lunch with Charlie."

"Fine, just bring him back when you're done with him, and
send the people in, please."

Bartlet was not in the habit of standing up for guests, but
one look at the heavily pregnant woman was enough to put him
on his feet in an instant. She looked up at him gratefully
when he ushered her to the loveseat, but she insisted on
standing until he took the chair opposite her.

He already liked her. From the demure cut of her maternity
suit, to the sweep of her rich, red hair, to the cross she
wore at her throat, to the very strength of her military
bearing, he liked her.

It was the guy with her that gave him the crawling willies.

Not that he wasn't immaculately dressed, which he was. Not
that his manners weren't impeccable, which they were. He
waited for the President and Leo to be seated before nodding
to them and taking his place at the woman's side, and that
behavior was clearly not rehearsed, it was ingrained. But
there was an edge to him, something in his bright eyes that
looked as if it could slice a man to ribbons. An old pain
compounded by new agony.

When the man finally spoke, it was to Leo. "We appreciate
you arranging this meeting for us. A.D. Skinner spoke very
highly of you."

"It's my pleasure. This is going to be kind of an informal
interview, since my staff thinks I've already left for the
weekend and God knows what's going to happen while they
think the cat's away. Now, what can we do for you?"

The man and woman exchanged glances. "It's difficult to know
where to start," the woman said to Bartlet.

"You could start with your names," the President suggested.

The woman's smile melted his heart. "I'm so sorry...I
assumed...I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and this is my
partner, Fox Mulder. Or my ex-partner. I'm not sure."

"So. Are you or are you not in the FBI, Mr. Mulder?"

"It's hard to say, exactly, Mr. President."

"Mr. Mulder, by my watch you have been in here for three
minutes and I know nothing about you but your name and the
fact that you may or may not be in the Federal Bureau of
Investigation. Now, unless we want to continue playing
twenty questions..."

"I'm dead."

The President's lips twitched and Leo's eyebrows arched.
"You seem fairly talkative for a corpse. So what happened -
you were declared dead? Missing in action?"

"No, sir," said Scully, her voice weary and tentative.
"Agent Mulder was on a case in Oregan when he was..."

The door opened and Bartlet gave Sam Seaborn an irritated
glance. "I must be going deaf, because I didn't hear anyone
knock," the President commented.

"I'm sorry, sir. Mrs. Landingham isn't out there and the
door was open, so I thought Leo was gonna be here
alone...I...I see you have visitors."

"No, no, come on in. I think you should hear this." Bartlet
waved Sam into the seat next to Leo. "This is Special Agent
Dana Scully of the FBI, and a man who may or may not be Fox
Mulder, who may or may not be in the FBI. You, Sam, may or
may not need to take notes."

Scully's eyes twinkled as she watched Mulder rise and
introduce himself. "Fox Mulder. Really."

"Sam Seaborn. Last time I checked." Sam leaned over to shake
Scully's hand. "Please, ma'am, don't get up."

"I couldn't if I tried," she sighed. "Dana Scully."

"So. Where were we?" Sam asked as he settled into his chair.

"I was trying to explain the circumstances under which Agent
Mulder was declared dead," Scully began, but Leo
interrupted.

"If he's been accidentally declared dead, then surely there
are ways to correct the mistake," he said.

"Usually, when someone's been declared dead it's because the
person was missing, or in some other way presumed to be
deceased without the body being found." Scully's voice
shook. "But Agent Mulder was found. Dead."

"You mean that a body was found that was identified falsely
as..."

"No." Scully's hands trembled and Bartlet watched,
fascinated, as Mulder slipped his palm across Scully's arm
and down to her hand. Her mouth turned up in a grateful
smile even though her eyes showed that she'd recently been
crying. "His body was found in a field in Montana. He'd been
dead for days."

"The body of someone who LOOKED like him," prompted Leo.
Sam's mouth was hanging open, and Bartlet was certain he
could feel his own pulse in his neck.

"No, Mr. McGarry." Scully's voice was raw. "I was led to the
scene, where I pronounced Agent Mulder dead."

There was a brisk knock as Josh Lyman poked his head around
the half-open door. "Oh, I'm sorry - Mrs. Landingham wasn't
at her desk and I had a note from Leo that he wanted to see
me, so I..."

"Well, you're one step ahead of Sam, because at least you
knocked. Come in, Josh, and join this party." The President
waved him in. "These are Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox
Mulder. This is Joshua Lyman, Mr. McGarry's assistant."

"I can come back later..."

"No, no, I wouldn't have you miss this for the world. Leo,
bring him up to speed while someone," and Bartlet stared at
Sam as he continued, "gets Agent Scully a glass of water,
because I'm sure she's thirsty."

Leo, his eyes wide, turned to Josh as Sam scrambled to his
feet in search of water. "Agent Scully says that this man,
Agent Mulder, was found dead...when was this?"

"Three months ago."

"Ah." Josh nodded, smiling at Scully as if at someone who
might be more than a little insane. "But now he's not.
Dead."

"No, he's not." Scully smiled her thanks at Sam, and took a
sip of the water.

"Because...it wasn't really him, right?"

"She identified the body herself," Bartlet put in. "Perhaps
you were so upset at seeing someone who looked like your
partner...you made an incorrect identification."

"No, sir. I'm a forensic pathologist, and I've been Agent
Mulder's partner for eight years. I examined the body
closely at the morgue. It was this man. I'm sure of it." Her
fingers tightened around Mulder's for a moment before she
seemed to become aware that everyone was looking at her. She
folded her hands in her lap.

Bartlet had no idea what to say next, but he was keenly
aware that no one else was going to speak until he said
something. "But you realized that you were mistaken, that he
really wasn't dead..."

"I wish...I wish I had." Scully stopped speaking and looked
up at Mulder with such regret that Bartlet felt his own
throat constricting in response.

Mulder gave Scully a wry smile before speaking. "The fact
is, Mr. President, that I was dressed up in my best Armani
suit, laid out for eternal rest in a very fine coffin, and
buried next to my mother in a cemetery in North Carolina."
Mulder's voice was neutral, his face impassive save for the
vein throbbing at his temple.

Leo, Sam, Josh, and Bartlet turned around as the door
opened. "Not now!" they cried in unison.

"I'm sorry," C.J. Cregg shouted over the din. "Mrs.
Landingham..."

"We know. We know." Josh stood up and gave C.J. his place.
"Short version. Meet Agents Scully and Mulder of the FBI.
The guy, there, is Mulder. Oh, and you should know that he's
dead."

"Dead."

"Yep."

"Excuse me. Did April fool's come late this year?"

"Just sit down. This is C.J. Cregg, the White House Press
Secretary." Bartlet's introduction was made without looking
at anyone but Scully. "Now. You buried him."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"In the ground."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"This man. The one sitting here."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"Good God." Bartlet ran a hand through his hair and looked
Mulder up and down. "That could explain my rather visceral
negative reaction when I met you."

"I have that effect on a large percentage of the
population," Mulder said, "and sometimes with far less
reason."

Josh snickered at the agent's deadpan reply. C.J. shouldered
him in the ribs as she leaned forward. "I would appear to be
entirely out of this particular loop. As usual," she said.
"You mean to tell us that you were not just accidentally
declared dead, but were actually buried. In, you know, a
coffin."

"Yes. I know. A coffin. I'm going to be paying it off for
years." Mulder twisted in his chair so that he could look
C.J. in the eye. "Ironically, the bills for my funeral hit
before my life insurance paid off, so you can just imagine
the financial tangle my affairs are in."

"You're right. I can just imagine." C.J. pointed her gaze at
the President. "Sir. Please. Tell me we're not in Kansas and
let me tap my heels together."

"I'd be glad to if you'd take me with you." Bartlet folded
his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair. "Let me
recap. Agent Mulder was dead but now he's alive. What,
exactly, is the role of the President of the United States
in this rather extraordinary turn of events?"

Leo's baritone soothed the electricity in the air. "Their
immediate supervisor, Assistant Director Walter Skinner of
the Bureau, called me to express concern over what he
called, and I quote, 'treatment of a civil servant that
borders on the insane, not to mention the shitload of
paperwork,' involved in getting the United States government
to declare this man alive."

"Thank you, Mr. McGarry." Scully smiled her gratitude and
faced the President. "You see, sir, the FBI doesn't hire the
deceased. Mulder's social security number is invalid. Even
if he could look for other employment, his degree is
worthless because he's considered dead."

"And therefore unemployable," Sam put in.

"Not only unemployable - what about trying to get health
insurance?" Josh added, tapping his chest with a finger.
"And I thought I was having a tough time. I mean, talk about
a pre-existing condition!"

"Mr. Lyman was the victim of an assassination attempt last
spring," Scully whispered to Mulder. "I'm sorry," she said
to everyone else. "I have to fill in some gaps."

"That's quite all right. In fact," Bartlet sighed, "that's
the only thing since this conversation started that I've
been able to grasp."

"Here's what's going on, sir. I lost my mother last year,"
Mulder said. "From her estate, I have enough to keep myself
afloat for a while. But the funeral home wants to be paid,
and the guys who exhumed my...the grave, and the drivers who
took the casket to the hospital. And the hospital bills." He
looked into the stricken countenances of everyone in the
room. "Not to mention what it's gonna cost to dry-clean the
suit they buried me in."

"Mulder," Scully groaned.

C.J. coughed, then looked up to see Sam struggling to keep a
straight face. Josh was studying his shoes, while Leo and
the President goggled at one another.

"Well, it was my best suit," Mulder huffed.

"Okay. Bottom line time." Bartlet turned to the partners.
"What is it that you want this office to do on your behalf?"

"What Agent Mulder needs is an official document declaring
that he is alive and entitled to all of the benefits of
being a living, breathing, American citizen." Scully's face
was flushed. "He wants to work, sir. He wants the life that
was taken away to be returned to him. This was no false
imprisonment, no clerical error, nothing for which an
apology and some money will make amends. It was a horrible
nightmare not of his making, and we've come to you to ask
for your help in restoring what is rightfully his."

"That's a lovely speech, Agent Scully." Bartlet looked up at
Sam. "I might just have to fire you."

"Works for me. I'd love to be his attorney," Sam smirked.
Josh rolled his eyes at him.

Bartlet glared at the two men, who settled back like guilty
schoolboys. "I understand your predicament, but I'm not sure
exactly what my influence might be."

"You pardon turkeys," C.J. said brightly.

Scully gaped at her. Mulder started to chuckle.

"I'm sorry. That came out completely wrong. What I mean was
that if the President can pardon a turkey..."

"...or draft one into military service," Josh muttered under
his breath, for which he received a jab from one of C.J.'s
elbows as she spoke.

"What I mean is that whatever you declare Agent Mulder to
be, he is. isn't he?"

"Claudia Jean, you've crystallized the entire situation.
Supposing I were to send a personal note to the head of the
Social Security Administration, stating that one Fox Mulder
is alive and needs his identity back - would that be good?
And someone get me Louis Freeh on the phone. That, I can
take care of this instant. Next - what about your university
degree? Who do I need to talk to?"

"I don't know if you can help me there - it's from Oxford,"
Mulder said. He looked down at his shoes, as if trying to
look modest about an accomplishment when he actually felt
nothing of the kind.

Bartlet raised his eyebrows at Mulder. "My sphere of
influence is a little broader than one might think."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Apology accepted, and someone make a note to talk to
Marbury about this little problem." Leo groaned and the
President flashed him a knife-edged grin. "Now, what is that
degree in?"

"Psychology."

"Must be coming in handy these days," Josh said.

"More than you know. But even the ability to self-diagnose
doesn't help the impatience."

Josh nodded, something dark and troubled in his eyes.
Bartlet offered him a sympathetic glance before he
continued.

"Leo mentioned something about a 'degree of urgency and I
only see one urgent thing in this room. So, forgive my
impertinence and feel free to tell me if I'm way off-base,
but would it be related to...?" Bartlet waved a hand in the
general direction of Scully's midsection. "And that it
involves not just you, Agent Scully, but also Agent Mulder?"

"Yes, sir," Scully said, her voice a combination of
embarrassment and relief at having the drawing-room
elephant, as it were, discussed at last.

"I assume this happened when you were alive the first time?"
Leo asked.

"That's the general idea, yes," answered Mulder before
turning back toward Bartlet. "But you should know that it's
not the way it looks, Mr. President."

"It looks like the First Lady did all three times she was
about to present me with a daughter. How else should it
look?"

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances.

"We're not...we've never been..." Scully swallowed, finally
directing her words at C.J. as if trying to avoid the prying
eyes of all the men in the room. "We're not intimate," she
finally managed to stutter.

C.J.'s eyes were round. "Yeah. Right," she muttered.

So much for sisterhood, Bartlet thought as he watched
Scully's cheeks turn bright pink. "I think this may fall
under the umbrella of too much information, Agent Scully."

"I understand, sir. Believe me, the only reason I bring it
up at all is that you really should understand how this came
about." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.
"The reason I had to resort to scientific methods to have a
baby is that all other options were taken from me in the
line of duty."

Sam shifted in his chair, his expression a combination of
curiosity and sympathy. Josh looked uncomfortable and C.J.'s
face crumbled. Leo shook his head slowly.

Bartlet gave her a solemn smile and reached over to pat her
hand. "I'm very sorry."

"Thank you." Her voice quavered and Mulder took over for
her.

"Agent Scully was assigned to my rather unconventional
division of the FBI because of her medical and scientific
expertise. She threw away a promising career because she
believed in the work, and she was repaid by being the
unwilling subject of an experiment that left her with
cancer. When she managed to recover from that, she
discovered that those same experiments that had nearly cost
her life had left her unable to bring a life of her own into
the world." He stopped for a moment, taking time to meet the
eyes of everyone in the room before speaking again. "All
this suffering was visited upon her because of me. When a
medical opportunity to right part of the wrong became
available, it wasn't something I could possibly refuse."

"In vitro?" Bartlet asked, and the agents nodded. "I've
often heard how close law enforcement partners can be, but
this...is an enormous responsibility."

"Mulder and I realize that, sir," Scully whispered. "He
didn't know, I didn't know, we never discussed the
ramifications...because we thought it wasn't going to be
possible. There were two attempts, and I was told that both
had failed. It was the day he disappeared that I discovered
that the second doctor had been wrong."

Mulder rose and walked behind the loveseat. He put his hands
on Scully's shoulders, one thumb idly caressing the ends of
her hair. "What I'm trying to accomplish by being declared
alive is not merely the right to hold down a job and get
pizzas delivered to my door. I owe it to Scully to be alive
in every sense of the word. This woman, who has given so
much for her country, bore this burden alone while she
searched for me only to find that the father of her child
was dead. She had to bury me, to take care of my affairs,
and still she continued to work for the United States
Government. It is that very government - the one that you,
sir, represent for all of us - that is refusing to reward
its dedicated servant, whose one wish is not glory and
honor, but to have her partner restored to her.

"This is not my fight anymore. Whether I end my career in a
blaze of glory at the FBI or asking if you want to supersize
the meal that's clogging your arteries like rush hour
traffic - that's no longer the point. The point is that this
woman, who has borne so much grief as a result of her
dedication to duty, deserves to have me. Actually, she
deserves a million times better than me, but it's my life
she wants and it's my life she shall have, no matter the
cost."

Mulder took in a long breath and directed his final
statement to the President. "I'm standing in the Oval Office
to ask you now, man to man, to bring me back from the dead.
For Dana Scully's sake."

Out of his peripheral vision Bartlet could see C.J. dabbing
at the corner of her eye. Josh and Leo were twin visions of
stunned pallor. Bartlet turned to Sam. "Okay, Sam, that's
it. You're really fired," he said in a tone laced with
affection before looking back at the others in the room, and
he was relieved to see Scully's trembling lips curve upward
in a smile. "Now, is someone going to call Freeh or do I
have to do everything around here myself?"

"I'm on it." Josh sprang to his feet and loped to the door.
He grunted as he looked up and down the hallway. "I don't
see her anywhere. Hey, has anyone seen Mrs. Landingham?"

A woman's voice piped up. "She took Charlie to lunch at
Happy Dragon because he won that bet about the thing. I can
get you Donna."

"No. Wait, yes. Get me Donna. Sooner rather than later."

"Right away, Mr. Lyman."

Josh grinned as he sauntered back to his chair. "It IS good
to be king."

"I believe the President would be the king," Leo reminded
him.

"So I'm the crown prince. It's still good."

"I'm thinking you resemble the court jester, the one most
likely to get beheaded for not being funny enough, so knock
it off." Bartlet held his hand out to Sam. "Get me a piece
of stationery and an envelope. I'll knock off a note to
Social Security, make their hair stand on end." He fished in
his pocket for his glasses and put them on his nose with one
hand while he started writing with the other. "Fox. Kind of
an unusual name."

"I don't use it much," Mulder said. "One too many Dr. Seuss
jokes in my childhood. Warped me for life."

"So you're not going to name your child something obnoxious,
then. Good." Bartlet signed his name with a flourish and
folded the note crisply before placing it in the envelope.
"How about someone getting a courier? Someone who'll get
them to read this yesterday and act on it last week?"

"Think Toby'd do it?" Sam asked. "'Cause I'd pay, you know,
big money to see that."

"He could run it in on my bicycle," Bartlet offered.

"That would be MY bicycle, and it's no longer available."
Leo gave the President a stern look.

From the hallway they heard a woman's voice. "Someone phoned
and said Josh is looking for me?"

"Come in, Donna," the President called, and Donna Moss
entered the Oval Office.

"Sir, I didn't think you were here today."

"Well, there's some question about that. Mrs. Landingham
seems to have wandered off or been abducted or something, so
I need some favors. Get me Louis Freeh on the phone, find a
courier who'll run something over to the Social Security
office, and someone drag Lord Marbury out of whatever pub
he's in and get him into Leo's office." Bartlet stopped,
noticing that Donna was staring at Mulder. "Did you get any
of that?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Freeh, courier, Marbury. But
he's...you're..." She waved her fingers in the air. "I've
heard about you. You're the...dead guy."

"That's Special Agent Dead Guy to you," Mulder said,
sounding amused rather than edgy.

"Donna? You know about this?" Josh asked. "How do you know
about this?"

"My roommate's best friend works in the motor pool at the
FBI. She told me...wow. I never thought I'd actually meet
you."

"Technically, you haven't." He walked out from behind Scully
and shook Donna's free hand. "I'm Fox Mulder and this is my
partner, Dana Scully."

Bartlet noticed not only Donna's wide-eyed stare but also
Josh's grumpy expression as he addressed her. "And you, O
Assistant Mine, have a lot of work to do to ensure that
Special Agent Dead Guy becomes Agent Live Alive-and-Kicking
with all due speed, so...?"

"Okay, got it. Nice to meet you. Good luck with the UFOs."
She tossed back her long hair as she walked out of the
office and toward Mrs. Landingham's desk.

Leo rubbed his forehead with his forefinger and thumb.
"UFOs."

"Actually, what we investigate is paranormal phenomena,"
Mulder offered in a breezy tone.

"Mulder," Scully hissed. "Do you want to stay dead?"

"Okay. Sorry. We investigate unexplained cases using a
combination of scientific and intuitive means." He wrinkled
his nose at Scully. "Is that better?"

"Not much, no."

"I didn't mention the vast conspiracy."

"You just mentioned the vast conspiracy, Mulder."

"You sound like you work here instead of for the Bureau,"
Josh commented.

An alarm on Leo's watch went off and he turned to the
President. "Mr. President, you've got a car waiting to take
you to Air Force One."

"Yes, that I do." He rose, and everyone else got up with
him. "I must say that while this meeting took longer than
expected, it was certainly one of the most interesting I've
had in the last few weeks." He shook Scully's hand, covering
it with both his own. "Agent Scully, I commend you for your
devotion to our country and with all my heart I wish the
best for you."

She looked up at him with gratitude shining from her eyes.
"Thank you, Mr. President."

"And you." He turned to Mulder and offered his hand as he
cocked his head toward Scully. "This is none of my business,
but seeing as how it's never stopped me before, I'm going to
tell you that you really need to..."

"We're negotiating," Mulder said with a crooked smile, which
Scully returned as her face flushed a little. "There are
some obstacles."

"I'm removing them." Bartlet's voice was firm.

"Well, there's also...she's Catholic, and I'm sort of a
lapsed..."

"Justice of the Peace," Bartlet intoned as Leo handed him
his briefcase. "Or a boat - what's the Navy ship coming in
this afternoon?"

"That would be the U.S.S. Endeavor, sir," C.J. said after
consulting her notebook.

"Get on it. We can expedite the paperwork." He looked down
at Scully, who was fighting back laughter. "What?"

"Oh, sir, my brother is the captain of the
Endeavor...he's...he'd..."

Mulder finished. "He's not my biggest fan, sir. In fact, I
could safely say that this would be the first shotgun
wedding in history where the shotgun was pointed at the
officiant rather than the groom."

"Well. Far be it from me to cause family turmoil." Bartlet
straightened his tie. "But when - that's not if, it's when,
because you know where I stand on this issue - you decide to
tie the knot, make sure Mr. McGarry knows when and where."
As the two agents stared at him in disbelief, he grinned,
but his voice was rich and serious. "You may serve at the
pleasure of the President of the United States, but
sometimes your President takes his greatest pleasure in
serving those who please him."

"Sir...thank you..." Mulder's voice blended in with Scully's
as they stood stock-still and watched Bartlet walk briskly
out the door to the patio, proud of a job well done.

"Back from lunch, Charlie?" Bartlet asked his aide, who
smiled and handed the President a fortune cookie. "Ah, thank
you. Never let knowledge and education get in the way of a
good superstition just before you get on an airplane."

"No, sir."

"See those people in there?"

"The ones with Leo and Sam and..."

"Yes, those are the ones. Keep an eye on them for me,
Charlie." Bartlet cast a wistful glance back into his
office. He could almost hear Josh and Mulder trading
insurance company horror stories and could swear Sam was
telling Scully to sit back down and put her feet up for a
while. And that C.J. was muttering "UFOs" to herself so she
could tell Toby about it over a beer later that night.

He caught Leo's eye and smiled. These people would be taken
care of, and Leo would enjoy kicking Freeh's ass personally.
God bless Leo.

God bless them all.

"Sir?" Charlie prompted. "Your ride's waiting."

Bartlet waved him aside so that he could watch for a little
while longer. "In a second, Charlie. Sometimes, it's just
good to stand here and be king."

*** 
END