Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Tied up in Hollywood
Mulder enters the warehouse with his gun drawn. Something is off. The hair stands up on the back of his neck.
His eyes scan from left to right as he works his way down a dark, narrow hallway. At the end of the hall, he can see it opens up into a large, rectangular room with a vaulted ceiling. The only light filters in through some busted-out windows.
As Mulder steps out onto the main warehouse floor, a disembodied voice comes from above.
“Oh, well, well, well, look who followed me home! Agent Mulder from the FBI. How kind of you to join me; it saves me the trouble of having to go out and get you.”
"Reddington?!” Mulder searches for the source of the voice. His eyes are drawn back to the back left of the space, to a lofted room. It is dark, but if he squints, he can just make out the silhouette of a man.
“Show yourself,” Mulder demands, aiming his weapon toward the silhouette.
"I think I'm quite comfortable where I am. But I think I’d like to see you in a different position.”
Mulder feels a strange pull in his stomach. His mouth goes dry. “What are you talking about - a project? What are you planning, Reddington?”
“I like to think it will be my magnum opus. Everything you’re about to do is going to be filmed, and it’s very possible that this little experiment of ours might be seen by a lot of very… let’s say, excited customers.”
Mulder has no idea what the man means, but he doesn’t like the sound of it. The words are becoming harder to focus on as gooseflesh erupts all over his body, his nipples growing taut and sensitive. Without cause, his dick begins to harden, blood redirecting south so quickly it makes him dizzy.
Mulder’s hands tremble, ruining any hope he has of shooting the silhouette.
"What's happening?” he shouts. He is hyperaware of every millimeter of fabric touching his body. His head swims, making it difficult to orient himself. His cock is now rigid and pulsing inside his slacks. He shakes his head, trying to right his vision and regain control of his body’s responses. “Shit.”
Before he knows what is happening, his body seizes up, jerking as an ecstasy so searing it literally hurts when it surges through him. Warmth spreads over his crotch, and he realizes, with horror, that he has cum in his pants without so much as a touch.
Mulder wobbles on his knees. Reddington laughs above him.
“Perfect! Cut and print!” Reddington says, the sick glee dripping from his voice is unmistakable. “Oh, this is going to be great. Fox, you’re a natural.”
“No!” Mulder yells as his weapon slips from his clammy hands. He barely has time to hear it hit the concrete before everything goes black.
—
San Fernando Valley, CA
Crater Canyon Motel
2 Days Earlier
Mulder and Scully exit their rental Ford Taurus into the bright California sun. Canyon Crater Motel isn't the nicest place they've been, but at least it isn't the worst. The exterior is painted in a fading yellow that used to be as bright as the California sun, with accents of an equally exhausted cerulean blue. Aside from aging paint, the building appears to be in good condition. Everything looks clean, including the small pool abutting the complex’s parking lot. A clean pool is always a good sign.
“Nice to finally need my shades, Scully," Mulder quips, pulling a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and sliding them onto his face. February in Washington DC is endless gray days, freezing temperatures, and the semi-frequent dash of snow and ice. The resulting cabin fever and winter blues are just an added bonus. Here is the complete opposite: the sun sparkles above them in a crisp, cloudless sky. It’s approximately 78 degrees and pristine.
The corner of Scully's mouth lifts as she dons her own sunglasses. She can already feel the sunlight lifting her spirits. "Well, I'm not complaining.”
Scully lets Mulder check them while she makes her a park bench under a large Sycamore tree not far outside the motel office. Scully figures she could use a little vitamin D, so she shucks off her blazer to let her bare her arms and face to soak in the warm California sun.
She's immersed in the pleasant sensation of sunning herself when she hears footsteps approaching. She cracks one eye open, confirming Mulder’s presence, before she offers a very un-Scully-like suggestion: "Palm trees. Sunny skies. Maybe we should just ditch the case and enjoy some of this amazing weather.”
"Oh, you finally wanna play hooky with me?” Mulder asks with delight. "Did you pack your bikini? The desk clerk says that the beach is only a mere three-hour drive from here, with traffic.”
“If we wrap this case up early, you may be in for a treat," she grins at him. “Speaking of the case, you said, and I quote, ‘this one is so weird it's really going to knock your socks off.’ Care to share?”
Mulder flops down next to her, dropping an envelope on the bench next to him. “Before I tell you about the case, I want to start out by asking you to keep an open mind."
Scully raises an eyebrow and sits forward on the bench. “Well, see, just you saying that makes me a little nervous, but I'll try.”
"Okay. Over the last few weeks, there have been several kidnappings. All taking place here in the San Fernando Valley. The victims are men and women, between the ages of 18 and 30. They go missing for a day or two, then they are returned - a little worse for the wear, I might add. Each of them was checked into the hospital for exhaustion.” Mulder picks the envelope up off the bench, holding it up pointedly as he mentions the hospital.
“I take it you have the results of these examinations?” Mulder nods, flipping the manila open and pulling out a sheaf of documents.
Scully snatches the reports out of his hands before he finishes holding them out to her. She starts reading it carefully, looking for anything unusual. “Are there any signs of physical violence?”
“Several victims had rope burns around their wrists. A case or two of dehydration. And as I’m sure you can see there, no drugs were found in their systems - besides a little Ganja.”
“Ganja?” She raises her eyebrow. She sifts through the pages to find the drug test results. “So it sounds like they were restrained and held against their will, and then released. Are there any other commonalities between the victims?”
“Yes,” Mulder clears his throat, mirth pulling at the corner of his lips as he continues. “They had some connection to The Cumming Edge Production Company.”
Scully scoffs, not amused by the name. “Ah, so the victims work in pornography. Well, now I know why you wanted this case. Have you been missing one of your favorite stars lately?”
“Don’t be so flippant, Scully; these are professionals, just like you and I.” Mulder leans closer as he says it, bumping his shoulder into hers. “They are just a little more comfortable with the idea of baring all and making love in front of the camera.”
At the mention of making love, Scully feels a little tingle in her stomach. They don’t usually talk about such things, after all. Though she would not refer to what porn stars do as ‘making love,’ there isn’t much love present, from what she has seen. She has never been one to indulge in porn, finding much of it too degrading or crass for her taste. But she did not begrudge others for watching it and was, of course, aware of Mulder’s habit. Scully suspected that Mulder’s interest in the adult film industry was the main reason for their trip.
Still in her space, Mulder drops his voice to a near whisper, making the moment feel too intimate. “Shouldn’t we treat them like we would anyone else?”
“Of course, you are right. I was just having a bit of fun at your expense.” She playfully pushes at his arm, trying to lighten the mood and put a few inches between herself and her partner. Discussing sex with him so close unnerves her.
“You can tease me anytime, Scully.” Mulder snatches the file back from her. “Anyway, the victims aren’t all actors. Some are on the production side, you know, lighting, sound, that sort of thing. In fact, this evening we’re meeting with a camera operator named Brady Bower. He’s got some interesting insights into the case, the kind of thing that’s right up my alley.”
Despite her relative disinterest in the subject matter, Scully is interested in meeting the camera operator; she’s curious what he has to say about the kidnappings. “Oh? What did he say that made you want to come all the way out here?”
“He says he's seen some strange things happening on set,” Mulder replies cryptically. “He told me that he has an idea of who has been targeting his coworkers. And he thinks he might be next.”
—
Denny’s is quiet at this time of day. They have just missed the lunch rush; the restaurant is sparsely populated. The two have just finished a quick meal, empty plates once containing two ‘Grand Slams’ now stacked neatly on the side of their table. Scully sips a mug of half-cooled coffee as she reviews a photo of their witness, Brady Bower. She is admittedly a little impressed by what she sees: he is in his late twenties, with a square jaw and blonde tousled curls. There is no doubt about it, Brady is handsome. He looks like he belongs in front of the camera, not behind it. Scully wonders if he’ll be a credible source for their investigation.
Mulder interrupts her thoughts. “Tomorrow, I am going to talk to another victim, Cherry Li. You should go to the hospital to see if you can get any more information from the lab there.” Mulder says.
Scully frowns; she hates it when he gets like this, macho and bossy. This was typical of him: dictating without bothering to ask her opinion. “What if I want to talk to Cherry? Maybe she’d be more comfortable opening up to a woman.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean–”
Scully stops him with a tap on the shoulder; their witness has just pulled up to the restaurant.
Outside the large diner window, a Caucasian man with a California tan and golden tousled curls exits a cobalt blue 1975 Ford Mustang convertible. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and his forearms have just the right level of definition for her tastes.
“That must be Brady Bower.” She says, a little chagrined when her voice comes out as a sigh. She can’t help it; the last time she saw anyone this attractive was Sheriff Hartwell in Texas. And truthfully, it's been a long time since she's had sex. She hopes Mulder didn’t notice - she’ll never hear the end of it.
Mulder looks over at her with a frown. “Now, don’t get any ideas, Scully, he’s a camera operator, not a performer.”
“Stop it, Mulder.” She says sternly. So much for him not noticing. Just her luck. “We are professionals, after all.”
Bower walks into the restaurant and looks around. Scully waves him over, eager to distract from Mulder’s teasing. Brady nods in acknowledgment and heads toward their table. Scully takes note of the tension in his jaw.
“You’re the FBI agents?” He asks as he reaches their table. His voice has a warm, soothing tone that has Scully already feeling inclined to trust him.
“That’s us. I’m Agent Scully, and this is my partner, Agent Mulder. You must be Brady Bower? Have a seat, Mr. Bower.” She offers, Mulder stands and crosses the booth, sliding onto the bench next to Scully so that Brady can sit across from them. “Can we get you some coffee or something to eat?”
“Just some water.” Brady drops onto the bench across from them, nervously tapping his fingers on the Formica table. "I haven’t had much of an appetite. I’m a little keyed up with everything that’s been going on.”
“I’m sure,” Mulder says. In typical Mulder fashion, he has placed himself too far into her space. Scully ignores the brush of his shoulder and thigh against her own. “Why don’t you tell us about it?”
“Well, it all started a few weeks ago when he was hired.”
“Who’s he?”
“Eugene Reddington. He’s our new lighting guy. Well, I should say, he’s our old lighting guy. He just got fired on the set today.”
Scully leans forward, fully engaged with his story. “Why was he fired?”
The server sets down a glass of water in front of Brady. His hand shakes as he puts the cup to his pillowy lips. Scully feels a pang of sympathy. He’s not a small man, giving the impression of being able to defend himself if need be, but the reality of one's colleagues being kidnapped would be frightening to anyone.
“Officially, it’s for showing up late, but I’ve seen him involved in some strange stuff. I’ve been around the industry behind the scenes for a few years, and I’ve seen some real shady characters, but this guy gave me the creeps from day one. He has all these ideas about making some kind of grand masterpiece where the actors aren’t just performing and everything happening is real. I gotta tell you, in porn, there’s a lot that looks real, but isn’t.”
“I’m sure,” Mulder says.
Scully clears her throat, stifling a scoff. Very little of what she had seen in porn looked real. Reminding herself to remain professional, she pushes forward. “Agent Mulder said that you had something else to tell us about Eugene and the victims?”
“Yeah, it’s hard to explain, and I don’t know if you’ll believe me. But I really think he has some kind of almost supernatural power or something.”
Scully tries to keep the disappointment from her face as she deflates back into her seat, having found the point at which she stops believing Brady’s story. She’s surprised at Brady - he comes off as very level-headed. Charming, too. Still, she should have seen something like this coming.
“For one thing, the guy gives everyone the creeps. Especially the girls. Anytime he’s around, the girls get really uncomfortable. But more than that, he has some strange effect on them. Sometimes he can – well, the worst was what happened to Cherry last week.”
Mulder leans forward, his interest picking up where Scully’s left off. "What happened last week?"
“Well, he insisted that Cherry be tied up for her scene. It wasn't in the scene breakdown, and she really didn’t want to. So we didn’t move forward. But then, just a few minutes after we shut down Eugene’s idea, suddenly Cherry was just lying helplessly on the floor. Shaking. It was like in that movie Carrie, where she moves the stuff with her mind. I think Eugene did it to her as, like, revenge for fighting him and killing his idea, you know?”
Scully clears her throat, “Mulder, may I speak to you in private?”
“Sure. We’ll just be a minute, Brady.” He braces his hands on the tabletop, preparing to stand.
“Wait, wait! Like I said, I know that I sound crazy, so that's why I brought you this.” Brady reaches a small leather messenger bag at his side that previously escaped Scully’s notice to pull out a VHS tape. He slides it toward the middle of the table like a peace offering, “It’s proof - footage of what Eugene did to Cherry. I was able to take it from the editing bay when everyone went home for the night. It's not fully edited, but you can see Eugene on the tape.”
"We'll review this, thank you," Mulder places the tape in his jacket pocket.
"I'm not supposed to have it, so can you get it back to me when you come to set tomorrow. Hopefully, I can return it before anyone notices."
“We’ll make sure it's safely returned to you," Scully says, gently touching Brady's wrist. She still feels bad for him. He seems like a reasonable person. Maybe his belief in Reddington’s supernatural power is a psychological defense mechanism against the banality of evil. It was completely understandable if she looked at it that way.
After a quick goodbye to Brady, Scully exits the restaurant with Mulder close behind her. The second the restaurant door shut behind them, Scully shakes her head.
“Mulder, I just don't know if he actually saw what he thinks he saw. The human mind has a vast ability to protect itself from trauma. His beliefs could stem from some kind of psychological defense mechanism, or…” Scully pauses. Mulder has the tendency to believe everyone he meets, and she sees it as her sacred duty to protect him from himself. Brady might be handsome and a little charming, but that doesn’t mean he’s a reliable narrator. “Or maybe he's just seen too many Stephen King movies.”
“You think that's all that's going on? Just a guy who likes scary movies?”
“No. I mean, clearly something is happening. Perhaps Cherry has a seizure disorder or another medical condition that she has not yet discovered. Or Reddington could be using a rare drug to incapacitate his victims - a tox screen can’t test for every substance known to man. I just don’t know if telekinesis is what we’re looking at here. I think telekinesis is Brady's way of coming to terms with something he otherwise can’t explain.”
“I see. Okay. Well, obviously, I disagree, but I don't quite have a theory yet. Let’s just get started on this investigation. I'm hoping we can get some more ideas by watching the video Brady gave us. It is potential evidence after all.” Mulder proudly taps the tape in his pocket, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"You're right. This video…If I’m understanding correctly, it’s a porn tape?" Scully looks down at the videotape’s bulky outline, a little intimidated. Watching porn by herself is one thing, but watching it with Mulder? She shivers, not sure if she’s more anxious or aroused by the idea. “I’m just feeling a bit awkward about it. It's just not my usual form of entertainment.”
"I'll try not to take that as an insult," he smirks, “But if you're feeling uneasy, I can always review the tape on my own and debrief you on it after."
Scully looks at him for a moment, both touched and offended by the offer. She appreciates the consideration, but she’s an adult - she can handle looking at a smutty video. Feeling nervous doesn’t mean she’s incapable. Besides, as much as she trusts Mulder, he does have a wild imagination and a penchant for believing almost anything he sees. It’s better if she reviews the tape for herself.
“I appreciate the gesture, Mulder, but I’d prefer we review the tape together. I'm familiar with the signs of Rohypnol intoxication. I'll be able to tell if our victim was drugged. That’s another thing - most sexual predators don't need special powers to harm their victims, all they need is motive and opportunity."
Mulder nods. “Let's see if we can figure out some motive, Scully.”
—
Canyon Crater Motel
10:13 pm
Scully knocks on the door to Mulder’s adjoining room. She is dressed in silk pajamas, the color of the night sky. As she brushes her hand over the smooth front of them now, she momentarily second-guesses her choice not to wear a bra, wondering if it’s too relaxed. She doesn’t want to give Mulder the wrong impression. Not that he would, she corrects herself. Mulder’s not like that; despite his proclivity for bad innuendo and adult entertainment, never once in their five years together had he made her feel uncomfortable in that way. Mulder opens the door just in time for Scully to conclude she’s just being nervous.
"Hey,” he greets, holding the door open for her to step through. “I got the tape ready."
Before she came over, she prepared herself to be as neutral as possible about the video. It was the only supposed evidence they had, after all. They were reviewing it for professional purposes only. No different than looking at an alien autopsy tape together, she reasons, even as another part of her screams in protest that it is, in fact, very different. She sits down at the end of his bed - the old motel box spring creaking softly under her. She hopes she looks more casual than she feels. "Okay, let's get started.”
Mulder sits down next to her on the bed, remote in hand. Scully notices he’s dressed down as well, in a gray t-shirt and sweatpants. A sort of bedtime “Mulder uniform,” as it were. He presses play, and halfway across the title card for “The Cumming Edge” appears on the motel television screen. The scene opens at night in an office building with plain white walls, tiny cubicles, and fluorescent lights. There isn't any of the usual synthesizer porn music she’s used to hearing through Mulder’s wall to accompany the action of the scene.
In the opening scene, a young, beautiful Asian woman stands at a copier humming to herself. She is dressed in a fitted red suit with a corseted bodice and a tiny black skirt. The ensemble is accompanied by fishnets and six-inch crimson stiletto heels. Her hair is done up in a loose French twist, with curls framing her face. Her vibrant appearance makes her stand out amid the dim and gray office furniture. The outfit is gorgeous, but the skirt is a little risque for any of the offices Scully has visited.
After a moment or two, the copy machine beeps at her and stops working. "Oh, damn, the copier is broken. I better get Jimmy to see if he can help me."
Scully can’t help but roll her eyes. Already, the premise of this seems underdeveloped and woefully clichė. But, she supposes, the story isn’t exactly the point.
The camera follows the actress into a dim basement where she knocks on the door of what appears to be a repurposed supply closet. A handsome man with broad shoulders and gelled brown hair opens up. He is tall, with striking green eyes, and appears to be fit under his bulky blue suit. In a way, he almost reminds her of Mulder. Almost. “What's the matter, Candy?"
“Candy?" Mulder chuckles. “And I thought Fox was bad."
“Yeah, what were your parents thinking?"
“I wish I knew. They gave Samantha a normal name. My mom used to read a lot, maybe it was a character in a book? I never had the nerve to ask.”
In the video, Candy pouts theatrically at Jimmy, highlighting her glossy lower lip. "Oh, Jimmy, I'm in real trouble! The copier is broken, and I need to get these reports done before tomorrow. The boss is already mad at me, and he’ll definitely fire me if I mess up again.”
“Don't worry, I can help you," Jimmy says, showing off a too-white smile.
“Really?” Candy bats her eyelashes at him.
The pair returns to the copier, Jimmy performs the time-honored maneuver of unplugging the machine, waiting a few seconds, then plugging it back in. Jimmy presses a few buttons before the machine roars back to life and starts spitting out copies.
Scully scoffs, “Well, I think she could’ve done that, right?”
“I guess she’s just not as industrious as you, Scully.” Mulder deadpans.
“Oh, Jimmy!” Candy throws her arms around his neck and looks deeply into his eyes. "How can I ever thank you?"
“I can think of a way," Jimmy says gruffly. He bends to kiss her, but she stops him with a hand on his chest.
"That's a hell of a reaction to a 2-minute copier repair," Mulder snarks.
“No kidding," Scully chuckles.
The action on screen continues when Candy and Jimmy break their passionate kiss. “Wait! But we're not supposed to. Isn't it against company policy? Besides, we don't want to get caught by maintenance." Candy, a little stiffly, looks from right to left as if preparing to cross a street.
At the mention of "company policy,” Scully feels a pleasant buzz begin to simmer between her legs. It’s a taboo that feels familiar in ways it shouldn’t.
"Fuck company policy,” Jimmy says, taking Candy by the hand. “If we go into my office in the basement, no one will know,”
"Well, I do owe you.”
The video cuts abruptly to a shot of Jimmy and Candy back in the same basement office from earlier, kissing passionately against the edge of Jimmy’s desk. Their bodies are pressed together, Candy’s arms wrapped around Jimmy and roaming his back as their tongues meet noisily.
An undercurrent of tension smolders between her and Mulder. Just ignore it, she tells herself.
“I want you so bad," Jimmy growls as they part for air, “I've wanted you ever since you started in accounting.” He unbuttons the top few buttons of her jacket. "Wondered what that body looked like under these suits."
"Then take me. Right here.”
In one fell swoop, Jimmy violently sweeps off his desk; file folders, papers, a stapler, and a jar full of sharpened pencils clatter to the floor.
The number of times she's imagined a similar scenario with him is countless. It's almost uncanny. Mulder repositions his legs, causing one of his thighs to brush up against her silk-encased thigh. Does the video have the same effect on him as it does on her? Carefully, she glances out of the corner of her eye and sees an erection beginning to tent in his sweatpants. She bites her lip and returns her gaze to the video, unsure whether confirming her suspicion has made her feel better or worse.
Back on screen, clothing is being removed at lightning speed, all save Candy's fishnets and heels. Jimmy violently sweeps the items from his desk, then lifts Candy and deposits her bare ass on the desktop. Jimmy drops to his knees, grabs one leg of Candy’s fishnets in each hand, and tears them in two. Now, heat is starting to pool in Scully’s center.
A moment later, he’s rapturously going down on her. She hears a groan catch in Mulder’s throat, his thigh rubbing hers again. Scully pretends not to notice. Watching this video next to Mulder is far more dangerous than she had anticipated. Definitely nothing like reviewing an alien autopsy, who had she been kidding? Risking another look at Mulder’s lap, she sees that the outline of his erection has only grown larger. She licks her lips, squeezes her thighs together again, before forcing her eyes back to the television screen. Unfortunately, what’s happening there isn’t much better.
Candy is gasping loudly as Jimmy works his tongue expertly between her folds. Jimmy appears to be enjoying what he's doing almost as much as Candy is, groaning and pausing occasionally to mutter filthy, poorly-written lines of encouragement against Candy’s clit. The poor dialogue proves easy to ignore, barely registering to Scully as she stares, transfixed. Soon, Candy is panting and clawing at the desk, moaning loudly. By the time Candy orgasms - with a loud, exaggerated shout - Scully can feel her own arousal dripping onto her panties. But Jimmy isn’t done yet; he flips Candy to bend her over the desk and starts taking her from behind over the desk in a flurry of flushed, wet skin and moaning.
Scully turns toward Mulder. The erection in his sweatpants is more than obvious now. She squirms, rubbing her thighs together to appease the growing throb there. Mulder turns to meet her eyes; Her breathing catches at the sight of his flushed cheeks and wide, arousal-blown pupils. She finds their faces drifting closer and opens her mouth to say his name, lips forming the ‘M’ when –
“No! No! Eugene?!” Candy’s yelling on the videotape cuts through their moment, startling them back from each other. Scully looks back over at the TV while Mulder returns his attention to the remote.
“I, uh, think we missed something important, better take it back." Mulder rewinds a few seconds and presses play.
Rubbing her now-sweaty hands against her thighs, Scully takes a deep breath to recenter herself. She isn’t sure what just happened - or didn’t happen - between her and Mulder, but she will have to analyze it later.
Across the room in the entertainment center, a small Caucasian man with glasses and a hooked nose enters the scene with two ropes. Right away, it’s obvious he isn’t an actor; his movements are awkward, and he keeps glancing back into the camera lens. Though tall, he is not particularly attractive, with an oddly proportioned face and gangly limbs. Scully places him in about his mid-30s, with intense beady eyes and thick, close, cropped black hair.
“Here, let’s tie her up.” He says, already approaching the desk to reach for one of Candy’s wrists. “That will add a little fear - you know, really elevate the scene.”
“What the fuck, Eugene?” Candy shouts, recoiling from Eugene’s outstretched hand. “You’re ruining the scene! And no restraints - they weren’t in the scene breakdown."
Eugene’s face darkens, immediately enraged. He takes another step toward Candy, “I wasn’t fucking asking. I’m telling you, the ropes’ll make the scene better. Why don't you listen to me, you little bitch?!"
"I said no.” Candy reiterates firmly, tilting her chin up in defiance. Despite her physically vulnerable position, she maintains an air of confidence. “You’re not even the director, you don’t get to just add shit. And I don’t answer to you.”
The camera jolts, shaking for a few frames before stabilizing, as a man steps out from behind the camera and into frame. Only the back of his blonde head is visible.
“We’re not doing this, Eugene,” the man says, voice confirming it to be Brady Bower. He steps in Eugene’s direction. “This is not the time to change what's happening in this scene. Why don't you take off, man? We can have Jake cover lights.”
But Eugene doesn't appear to be listening, instead laser-focused on Candy. It's the longest he has gone without looking at the camera. He stares with unnerving focus, brow furrowed and jaw tense. Cherry blinks hard a few times, starting to look woozy and unfocused.
"Eugene, what are you doing?” She starts to breathe faster. Her heaving chest draws attention to where her nipples have noticeably tightened.
“Just having a little fun.” Eugene replies in a flat voice that does not sound at all like a man having fun.
Candy cries out, her body shuddering once before she loses consciousness, swiftly dropping to the floor. A shout is heard off-screen, and several people begin rushing in to assist before the tape cuts to black.
The silence crackles as it settles between them. Scully keeps staring at the television set, its blank screen now a mirror reflecting the image of her and Mulder sitting in a daze on the bed. Between her legs is starting to feel sticky, almost uncomfortable now that her arousal has abated slightly. Mulder seems in a similar state; the front of his pants is no longer tented as impressively as they had been a few minutes ago.
What just happened?” Scully asks. She’s not sure if she’s referring to the tape or the moment that almost transpired between them.
“I’m not sure,” Mulder replies, “But you have to admit, it was weird. The way Reddington was staring at her before the actress passed out? It does look like he knocked her out with his mind, or something.”
Scully blinks at him, unconvinced. “You really think so? Reddington was clearly out of line - I’m not surprised he was fired, and I can see why people are afraid of him. But it’s not clear to me how he affected Cherry. I’m not sold on telekinesis, Mulder. I don’t see that this tape proves anything other than maybe workplace harassment. Cherry could have had a panic attack. She was clearly hyperventilating on the film, and that could be what caused her to lose consciousness.”
"That is also possible, I’ll admit. But I don't know, Scully. I’m inclined to believe Brady - this tape backs up everything he said. Being able to render people unconscious with his mind would also explain how he kidnaps his victims without drugs. I’m just saying, keep an open mind. There’s something spooky going on here, and we’re going to find out what it is.”