The X-Files: The Truth Revealed

Chapter 2

June, 2014 - Massachusetts Oceanographic Institute - Woods Hole, MA  

This late in the day, the campus library was quiet and relatively void of students. Gibson Praise liked it that way. It was easier to concentrate when he didn't have to expend his energy tuning out the thoughts he heard in the minds of others.  

He leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms upwards and brought his hands together at the base of his neck. Yawning, he decided he'd studied enough for one day, so he closed the research book he'd been using. Gathering up his laptop along with the data sheets he'd been pouring over for the past two hours, he tossed everything but the book into his backpack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he headed for the front desk.

"Here you go, Amanda," he smiled and handed her the book. "See you tomorrow."  

"Bye Gibson," she blushed.  

Gibson knew she liked him. He felt the same way but with his ability to read minds, he found relationships his toughest challenge. After all, he had an unfair advantage. For that very reason, he avoided them altogether.  

Exiting the library, he checked his watch - seven-thirty. Just enough time to hit the market and pick something up for dinner before dark.  

Pulling out of the parking lot, Gibson barely noticed the helicopter that flew overhead in the direction of Martha's Vineyard. His mind was preoccupied, trying to think of a way to ask Amanda out without making a complete fool of himself. But thoughts of Amanda strayed as external thoughts overtook his own.  

Bringing the scooter to a sudden stop, he stared at the helicopter moving to the southeast, its occupants intent on their mission - a mission that Gibson prayed he could stop.  

Vineyard Sound, MA  

Fox Mulder gazed back at the wake from the ferry. The ocean mist was refreshing and gently slapped his face. He wiped it with his hand, feeling the day's growth. Use to be his baby-face grew nothing but peach fuzz but the older he got, the faster he went through razors. He shouldn't complain. At least he didn't have to worry about looking like his old boss, Skinner - that big, bald, beautiful man. Mulder wondered how he was. Last time he saw him, Skinner was saving his ass.  

It had been a long day on the mainland but a productive one or so he would do his best to convince Scully. She reminded him that he needed to get away sometimes – get back to civilization from time-to-time – to reconnect. Maybe she was right, but Mulder preferred the Vineyard and the seclusion it afforded him. True, tourist season could be a pain in the ass, but the family homestead was far enough off the beaten path that he was only bothered by it on occasion.

Generally, his only contact with tourists occurred when Scully asked him to drive up north to get something that she couldn't find in Chilmark or Menemsha - not that 'up north' was any great distance. Twelve miles took him to the heart of the tourist stops. It did present him with the privilege of chuckling to himself at the number of tourists who could still, after thirty some-odd years, point out exactly where scenes from the movie, Jaws had been filmed. He smiled about that. After all these years... who'd a thunk.  

He removed his sunglasses, closed his eyes and let the waning rays of the sun bathe him in their warmth. He breathed in the fresh ocean air. Damn it smelled good - almost to the point of intoxication. He would have to remember to thank Scully.  

Opening his eyes, he looked down at the spray of flowers he'd bought for her at a stand in Woods Hole. They weren't much, but he knew what simple pleasure they'd bring her as she fussed over their arrangement. The whole process she'd go through, determining the right vase, judging whether they looked best centered on the piano or in the kitchen's bay window while reserving her favorite of the bunch for that special vase she kept on the nightstand beside their bed. It was all meant to give her joy and to thank her for believing in him. He wouldn't have to say anything. His remembering her in small ways spoke volumes to Scully. She wasn't very demanding of him. She simply wanted to be loved and respected, and she wanted to be treated as a woman - his woman. A slight smile crossed Mulder's face because those were the same things he had to offer.