Shades of Similarity Pt. 3

by Cheryl De Luca
Disclaimer:  These characters are not mine, and I thank Chris Carter for allowing me to take them out and play with them for a while.
Category:  Doggett / Scully Fic. Doggy POV

Feedback:  Please.  Emiliod@sympatico.ca
Spoilers:  Through TINH, with some minor forshadowing for Dead Alive.
Summary: Scully is thrown into a situation where she is forced to come to Doggett for help.

   

The kitchen light is on so I wander in and brew myself a fresh pot of coffee, it’s not great but it is sorely needed. A few minutes later I’ve drained the cup and chased it with a beer and two aspirin. It’s the best cure for a hangover that I know of, and right now I’m in dire need.

There is a dim light shining from under my bedroom door, so I make my way in there to check on my partner. My heart drops to the floor when my eyes fall upon the empty bed, and the panic in me begins to rise.

The churning of water sounds from the bathroom and to my surprise Agent Scully waddles out looking glorious in my giant grinch night shirt. She is swaying slightly and I watch as her hand protectively covers her abdomen. She looks both startled and a little worried to see me.

"Hey.." I begin, moving quickly to her side. "Let me help you." I slip my arm around her and am surprised to find that she doesn’t shrug off my support. In fact she leans a little more into me as I lead her back to bed. Clearly what this woman has needed for a long time is a little emotional sustenance.

She slides back under the covers willingly and I drape them over her. There are dark circles under her eyes and she looks somewhat lost.

"I just made some fresh coffee, you want some?"

She looks at me for a moment as if she is trying to read my mind, and then nods silently.

I head off back to the kitchen, grabbing my discarded shirt from the day before and throwing it on. I am in serious need of a shower, and a date with a toothbrush, but a rinse with some mouthwash will have to do for now. I pour the coffee and grab some cream and sugar and duck into the guest bathroom, before heading back into the room.

She is massaging her stomach slightly and looking intently at the bulk of her abdomen, when I return. My heart starts to beat a little faster, hoping to god that she hasn’t started labor again. The prospect is more terrifying to me when I am sober, than it was last night. This is despite the fact that I have my wits about me now, or perhaps for that very same reason.

I pass her the coffee and take a seat beside her on the bed. "Is everythin’ okay?" My hand brushes her belly, looking for some tell tale signs of tightening.

She takes a sip of the coffee and grimaces slightly. I know it’s brutal tasting but what does she expect? "I’m fine." She looks down at where my hand is still resting on the her stomach.

"I owe you an apology." My words draw a look of surprise from her. I’m hoping she won’t ask me to move my hand. I like the feel of the new life inside her. I can feel the baby’s tiny movements, it’s wondrous. It brings out a protectiveness in me that is almost feral, along with this comes the onslaught of bittersweet memories. "I’m sorry I was in such bad shape when you showed up last night. It’s not ever how I wanted you to see me, and I want you to know that despite last night you can always depend on me."

Swallowing deeply she shakes her head and looks me in the eye. "You don’t owe me and apology or an explanation. I, however, owe you both."

"No apology necessary. I’m just glad you felt you could come here." She nods slightly at that. Maybe the trauma of yesterday’s conversation was worth it after all. "I do have a few questions though."

She looks at me expectantly, and then rubs her belly again. "The answer to your first one is; I don’t know." There is a measure of pain and embarrassment evident on her face. "Did you win the office pool?" She’s staring at me now, a little anger floating to the surface. I don’t think it is directed at me, most likely the situation, but she is definitely gaging my reaction.

. "I don’t participate in shit like that, and I hope you know that." She slumps back a little into the pillow and nods. This actually wasn’t my first question but it was on the list so I go with it. "but Agent Scully," I have to ask. "How can you not know?" She doesn’t seem the type to sleep around, and I don't buy this alien baby crap.

Her eyes close slightly as if she is speaking from a memory. "Mulder and I...." Her voice cracks when she says his name and it hurts to see the look of anguish that flits across her face. "We’d loved each other for years, but we’d only ever been together twice, the first time was a week before he disappeared, the second time was the night directly before. If the dates are right I was already pregnant before our first night together."

Well doesn’t that beat all. Rumors had them goin’ at it since day one. I scratch my head, it’s too early in the morning for weird shit.

"About a year ago. I asked him to be a donor. When I found out that I was barren I had trouble dealing with the fact that I could never have children. Mulder had found some of my ova stored in a government lab. He said it wasn’t viable. I had another doctor, Dr. Parenti, look at it. He told me he thought there was a chance, and Mulder agreed to the IVF program." I can see tears forming in her eyes and she swallows heavily. "It didn’t work."

"And there was no one else?"

If she is insulted by this she doesn’t show it, instead she just shakes her head. I understand now why she was so terrified when Mr. Haskell showed up in our office that day. I was right, Agent Scully’s story is exactly the same as his wife’s. Why am I all of a sudden feeling like Joseph on his way to Bethlehem?

"I know this is all very hard for you to believe." Her eyes drop away from mine and focus on the sheet in front of her.

"Listen, it’s not a matter of what I believe, you’re here and that’s what counts." My hand instinctively goes to her chin and I force her to look at me. I need her to believe me. "If you want my help you have it 100% Whatever I can do, I’ll do. I just need you to tell me what that is. I mean, I have to admit you scared the hell out of me last night, but I whatever it takes.. I just need to know before hand and that means no more secrets."

She considers this a moment. We got off to a shaky start, I’ll admit. But I am also pretty sure that since then I have proven myself. I deserve the benefit of the doubt. I’m asking for her trust, which is clearly hard for her to give, especially when it could mean something as important to her as the survival her baby.

"If it’s okay with you I will stay here for the day and continue to take the pills." She looks uncertain and a little worried. "If it’s not too much of an imposition."

"Oh it is.." I assure her. "Now I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to do my laundry.." Doesn’t she know?

She smiles at this and the radiance of it makes me smile in return. I’m in way too deep now. I’m drowning and I don’t give a damn.. Can you say puppet? Well that’s me.. I’m dangling on a string, and she is utterly in control.

"If everything is okay then I will go home tonight. If labor starts again I’ll need you to help me get to Florida."

Jesus are we back to that again? I said 100% didn’t I - not 98 or 99.. Shit. "Why Florida, though? Couldn’t you pick somewhere closer? Like Virginia, Kentucky or even Tennessee? I mean why Florida? The palm trees and beaches?" I am sure this has everything to do with why she showed up unexpectedly last night, this is all part of a bigger plan that I wasn’t meant to know about.

"There’s someone there, who Skinner thinks we can trust."

Ahh there it is. Skinner. He’s the final piece in this puzzle. "Speakin’ of which why isn’t he here?"

"He’s in Oregon, for an annual AD’s meeting. He didn’t want to leave but it was mandatory that he go, and I still have almost 7 weeks left so I thought it would be okay." She looks down at her hands somewhat guiltily.

I know I wasn’t first choice and I know why. I smile at this hoping to ease her mind a little. "Surprise Agent Scully, baby’s don’t always do what you expect them to. My wife was two weeks late." A bolt of grief mixed with pleasure moves through me as I remember the tiny squalling pink thing that instantly became the love of my life.

She smiles at this and it is brilliant. "Agreed."

"So does Skinner know what went down last night?" I can picture the man totally frantic at not being able to reach her. I know I would be.

"Yes. I called him, and he thought his rushing off would bring a lot unwanted attention. He’s certain he is being watched and I know I was. My phone was tapped, as was his. He told me to come to you."

"You really think that someone is after your baby?" I’m unsure. It seems paranoid to say the least, yet there is some proof of this.

"Even you’re being watched, Agent Doggett." She looks at me and I see the certainty mixed with fear in her eyes.

I’m astounded and more than a little skeptical. I’m sure the look on my face tells her this because she reaches out and grabs the cordless beside my bed. Popping off the face plate she holds up the unit and points to what looks undeniably like a bug of some sort.

Well shit! I drop my voice, as the feeling of being violated begins to seep in. "I still don’t understand why and then why did you come here if I am being watched? You are no safer here than at home then"

She looks a little sheepish and I get the feeling that what she has to say next is something I am not going to like.

"First of all your house is clean so there is no need to whisper."

I look at her amazed. "How can you be sure of this if my phone has been bugged? I’m sure wouldn’t only do the phone they’d wire the house too, no?"

"They did." She looks me in the eye. "But as of yesterday it is clean." Her next words are a little tentative. "The gunmen, they swept it just before you came home.."

What the fuck?

"They left the phones so I could prove to you that what I am saying is true." She rotates her hand in circular fashion, indicating my house. "But they’ve been sweeping it weekly."

Weekly? They’ve been rummaging through my personal effects on a weekly basis? I’m somewhat at a loss, I can’t decide whether to be totally pissed or grateful for the fact that they have been looking out for me. Wait, who am I kidding? It’s Dana they are looking out for. I shake my head. My hangover headache, which had receded, comes back with a vengeance.

"Please, don’t be angry with them." Her voice is soft and her words worried. Her hand grips my shoulder lightly. "I asked them to do it for me. If you have to be mad at anyone, it’s me."

I look up at her. Agent Scully is an enigma. She’s beautiful smart and strong. Yet there is a frailty about her that makes me want to do everything I can to protect her, and this scares me. My hand moves to her face and I brush away a loose strand of hair hanging in front of her eyes. Jesus... I drop my head into my hands rub viscously at my eyes. She’s managed to touch something in me that I thought was long dead. I’m a goner now. How can I be mad at her?

Swallowing all of the emotions I am feeling, I accept her explanation for now, but I still need some more answers... "Okay... Forgive me, because I am confused, but was I part of this whole scenario or not then? I mean I get the feelin’ that everything was planned without me, yet you made plans for me without my knowledge, too. So please just paint me a complete picture will you because I already have a wicked headache and it’s, what?" I check my beside clock. "Not even 6 in the mornin’. I mean I have to be honest with you, all this cloak and dagger stuff is a little beyond me." Right now I am yearning for my days on the NYPD, everything was more straight forward back then.

"After the Haskell case, I was a nervous wreck. Both Skinner and I realized that if they were willing to go to the extent that they did to get Ms. Hendershott’s baby then they would probably do the same where I was concerned." She looks at me for a moment and then continues. "We first needed to know how they knew where I was going when they managed to catch up with me at the military hospital...."

"But you already know that information come from me." I had inadvertently turned the CIA onto her by looking into the Haskell issue.

"Your friend, the one in the jeep who took Ms Henderschott and I from the facility, did you actually call him and tell him to come and get us? Because that is what he said to me. He told me that you had sent him. Skinner told me that he called security and told them to keep and eye on me and make sure that I was safe. That’s all. So some how your friend the CIA guy found out where I was and managed to get there in time to switch Mrs. Henderschott’s baby."

I have to think about it a moment. There are so many assumptions we make without question, for me it comes from trying to live a less paranoid life. Despite my history with the NYPD, I am still an optimist at heart. People do bad things to others everyday, but I prefer to believe that my friends are not out to get me. Unfortunately, in this instance she is right I never told Knowle anything. "No.." I shake my head. "The last time I had talked to him was that day I caught up to him. The actual reason I suspected somethin’ more with Mr. Haskell was because he hadn’t gotten back to me.... Damn..." I run my hands nervously through my hair. This is getting more uncomfortable by the minute. "I thought Skinner had called and requested some assistance. The CIA has a few offices in the hospital, they pretty much keep tabs on what goes on there, since the CIA and military are so closely associated.."

"But this particular man, your friend, is that where he works out of?"

"No but it could have just been a coincidence." I look at her hopefully.

"There are no coincidences, Agent Doggett." This the number one rule in law enforcement, something that is drummed into any newbie starting out at the academy. Sometimes however where certain people we like and respect are involved, it seems an acceptable excuse. I very much don't like the implication. I have known Knowle for years I don't like the idea of having to watch my back where my friends are concerned.

"Anyway, We had a feeling that at least I was being monitored so we brought in the guys and they discovered that I was bugged, as was Skinner." She looks down at her hands for a moment and then back up at me. "We honestly didn’t think that they would bother with you. But we were wrong."

"I have to be honest, I wish you had been." She nods silently at this. My chest feels heavy almost like someone has kicked the air out of it. I used to have a normal life. People around me that I could trust. This all seems to be dissipating before my eyes. Or perhaps what worries me even more is the fact that this has been going on around me for a long time and I have been oblivious. "Why didn’t you tell your mother?"

My question has taken her by surprise, her mouth opens and then closes again before her eyes drop to the bulk of her stomach. When she looks up at me there are tears in her eyes. Her worlds are soft and weighted with fear. "Mrs. Henderschott. She told me when she was in labor, that she was afraid of what was in her." One hand goes to wipe away the tears as they stream down her face. "I... I feel the same way... I just couldn’t do this to her. She has been through a lot. If everything is okay, I will tell her."

She’s openly crying now and I reach out to her and ease her into my arms. "Shhhh... Everything will be okay..." I assure her, though the truth of it all is that I am now more unsure of this than ever. I rock her, waiting for her to pull away, but hoping that she won’t. This is insane. Feeling anything more for her than compassion is suicide. She is 7 months pregnant and clearly still in love with another man. A dead one at that. I’m beginning to think that I like to hurt myself.

* * * * * *

It’s almost ten o’clock when I wake next. My back is stiff and I am sore from the odd position I have been sleeping in. Agent Scully is still in my arms, having cried her self back to sleep. At some point I managed to move onto the bed with her and drifted off myself, half sitting half laying against the headboard.

Welcome to weirdsville, population one;

Me.

My wife is staring at me from the photo I keep of her on my bedside table. I get the feeling that she is laughing at me from wherever it is that she finds herself now.. She always used to laugh at me, there were many times I found myself involved in stuff that was a little odd. Though I have to admit that this scenario, whatever it is that I have fallen into is by far the strangest.

Oh shit..

Beside the photo sits a bottle of pills. Pills that my partner was supposed to take at 7 am not 10. She is sleeping so comfortably though and I wonder if perhaps I shouldn’t just leave her for a bit longer.

I stare for a moment at swell of her belly if you look really closely you can see small stirrings, maybe and elbow or a heel. I wonder if agent Scully’s baby ever has the hiccups, Luke was bad with them. I was the most bizarre thing, late in the pregnancy, and almost every night at the same time my wife would laugh and announce that he had the hiccups again.

I think my arm has gone to sleep. Agent Scully has been lying on it for some time now and I can’t feel it at all. "Hey..." I whisper in her ear and move some of her hair from her face. She looks peaceful in her sleep. I don't want to wake her, but I think the need for her to take the medicine the outweighs the sleep she needs. "Agent Scully..."

The response I get is not what I expect. She roles over and snuggles into me a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her stomach is now sandwiched between the two of us, her head snuggled beneath my chin. I can feel the heat from the baby she is carrying weave it’s way through me and with this a sinking feeling sets in.

This is not good. Now what do I do? I’m beginning to slip into panic mode when I look down to see two blue eyes staring up at me. She draws away a little, surprised at the position she finds herself in.

"Sorry..." She pulls away completely struggling to draw herself up to a sitting position.

I slip a hand behind her back and give her a little shove.

"For what?" I join her sitting and quickly climb off the bed, shaking my arm in the process. It’s got that pins and needles thing happening and it’s making me crazy.

She gazes at me for a moment before smiling. "For this..." She says as if she thinks I know what this is. When I shake my head in uncertainty she goes on. "For bringing my mess of a life into yours."

I stare at her a moment trying to find the words to explain my mishmash of emotions. None will suffice. So I settle for honesty, it is not eloquent, but it is the best I can do. "Maybe you haven’t realized this yet, but Agent Scully, you do matter to me." Her eyes search mine for a moment an odd look masking her face, before she nods her head.

It is at this point that I begin to wonder about Agent Mulder. The look on her face has led me to believe that this is not something that's been said to her nearly enough. There is a sadness there that cuts straight through to her soul. Can it be such a foreign idea to her that someone actually cares about her and is willing to admit it? To me this is what love is all about. It is trust, an opening and sharing of emotion, with someone who you know you can hand your heart over to without fear of them marring or mangling it. I had that with Bridgette. During our marriage and before everything went so terribly wrong we were very much in love. In the end though, it was different. Her depression and sadness had overcome her completely and I don't think she could have realized that in doing what she did to end her pain, she would take a part of my heart with her. I close my eyes against the ache growing inside me.

"You need to take your pills." I remind her, hoping that the hitch in my voice goes unnoticed. Pointing to the beside table I indicate the bottle that Kath left out. "I’ll get you some water."

I need a little emotional distance. What I want to do is quiz her about her relationship with this man who supposedly loved her, but I won't do that to Dana Scully, she's been through enough and I am in no position to judge, because in reality it is none of my business.

When I return she is staring at Bridgette’s photo. She looks up at me and holds the picture up. "Your ex-wife?"

I shake my head and pass her the water. "No. I'm a widower, Agent Scully."

The curiosity in her eyes is enough to draw the answer out of me though this is not a memory I want to visit. "She took her own life." I feel my knees go weak at this admittance, and plop down beside her on the bed. My hands have very suddenly become fascinating to me. They are rough and age worn much like my emotional wounds. Inexplicably my mouth begins to move. "She.. she couldn't deal with Luke's death." My hands move nervously through my hair as I lean forward to inspect my naked feet. "I watched her too, you know."

She's looking at me. I can feel the heat of her gaze upon me, though I can't bring myself to look into her eyes and see in them the same anguish I am feeling. "I could actually see her becomin' more distant and withdrawn. Sometimes it just hurt to look at her, but there was nothin' I could do. I was a mess myself. Instead of drawin' strength from each other we both pulled away tryin' to heal on our own." I look at her now. "The gardener at her father's cottage found her locked in the garage with the car runnin'."

Her arms are around me, as she pulls me into tentative a hug. "I'm sorry.." are the only words she mumbles as lose myself in her embrace. This is somewhere I want to be, but the enhanced swell of her breasts and the solid mass pressing up against my stomach bring me back to reality. Both of my hands move to her face and I distance myself from her, moving her head back just enough so that I can look into her eyes. "You scared me." I tell her. I want to close my mouth over hers and with that erase the anguish of her recent past. But in reality I know that is not my kiss that will do this for her. "For the last few months you've had the same look in your eyes that Bridgette had. And I don't mind admittin' that it scared the shit out of me."

Her eyes close as a tear exposes itself from beneath one eyelid and I can't believe I am doing it as my mouth closes over hers.

Fuck fuck fuck... my conscience is screaming and yelling recriminations at me. This is wrong, yet it feels so right. Her lips are soft an pliable under mine and I can feel my own arousal building. There is no way I will allow this kiss to go beyond what it already has, yet my body it appears has a mind of it's own.

It is both a blessing and a disappointment when the door bell rings. I can feel her eyes following me as make my way to the door. Throwing it open I am faced with the impressive stature of a very worried and nervous Walter Skinner.
Looking me up and down he steps in and swings the door shut behind him. "Is she here?"

"Yeah.." I point towards the bedroom.

"Is she okay?" He seems almost frantic and I wonder, not for the first time, if he himself has feelings for her. I've seen the way he stares at my partner sometimes.

"Yeah.. That stuff she brought with her helped." I'm talking to his back as he makes his way across the room.

"So labor has stopped?" He seems relieved and his pace slows a little.

"Yeah for now. My sister in law says she's to lay low for a while though." He nods and continues towards the room, as the grinch appears in the doorway.

Agent Scully is moving slowly, as she enters the livingroom and makes her way towards the couch. Her hand supporting her belly, and her statement unreadable as she glances my way. "Good morning, sir." She looks up at him as he takes her arm and leads her over to my sofa. Clutched in her other hand is a BP cuff and she passes it to him.

"I just took a pill a few minutes ago. I'm a little lightheaded now."

"I was going to take you home, but maybe you should lie down." What I am watching is clearly a well rehearsed process, as he rolls up the sleave on her shirt and wraps the cuff around it.

"Just give me a few minutes. I'll get dressed and we can go." Her head drops into her hands as she leans forward as much as the bulk of her womb will allow. A moment later the cuff beeps the red digital numbers announcing it's reading.

AD Skinner looks slightly confounded. "It's a little low." He tells her the exact numbers and waits for her response. Clearly his depth of medical knowledge is akin to my own.

"It's low normal." She assures him reaching for her bag.

"Wait a few minutes." I tell her and then move off into the kitchen. I have some bagels and cheese in the fridge, so I pull them out and throw them into the toaster. This is one of the few habits that Dana and I have developed as partners. Almost every morning I bring her in a fresh bagel with cheese and she thanks me. To an outsider it's lame, but the routine of it all has been somewhat comforting.

I hear hushed voices from the other room. and know that she is probably recounting the prior evening to our boss. I'm hoping that she will leave out the stupidity of my actions this morning. The last thing I need is a punch in the head from Skinner, though I probably deserve it.

The bagels pop out and I throw another one in for myself before buttering them and coating them with the cheese. I stick my finger into the thick creamy cheese and slip it into my mouth trying to wipe away the taste of her that still exists there. I need to forget about it. Even if this is what I want, the truth of it is that she and I can never happen.

"Hungry?" I announce bringing the plate along with some coffee into the livingroom. Skinner gives me an odd look, and then retrieves the mug from the table. As my eyes comb the room.

"She's gone to change." He tells me, and then takes a deep gulp from the cup in his hand.

"Do you think she'll be alright in there by herself?" I move towards the door to my room and knock softly.

"She'll be okay, Agent Doggett... She doesn't need a nurse maid.." He seems certain of this, however he was not the one sitting here reliving lamaze training, last night. I was and I beg to differ.

A fairly self assured "I'm fine." Drifts through the thick wood door and my concern begins to ease, yet I won't venture far from where I'm presently standing.. I don't know what I'm waiting for. A crash? A burst of white lights? Little gray men coming to take her baby or worse some kind of human monster? I shake away the thoughts."She wasn't alright when she showed up here last night."

"I know that's why I told her to come here." He looks at me something akin to fear drifting across his face. And for the first time I wonder if he wasn't hoping she would deliver here.

"Kath, my sister in law was here last night - she's a nurse. She said she shouldn't be traveling and she should be in a hospital." I look at him knowing that his hands are probably tied as mine were. He is caught between duty and devotion.

He nods grimly and takes another sip of his coffee.

"Who is this person in Florida?"

Skinner squints at me at me for a moment usure of how much to devulge. "She's an old friend of mine, a doctor." The look of regret on his face tells me that at some point their relationship was more than platonic.

"I want to help. I want to be in on this." I think my words surprise him.

He points the door I'm protecting. "That's up to her Agent Doggett she is the one making all of the dicisions here." The scowl accompanying his words indicate that this is a fact that he is not too comfortable with.

Before I get a chance to respond, Dana Scully emerges from the room looking a lot better than she did the evening before. Her hair is combed and the slighlty minty smell eminating from her tells me she has brushed her teeth as well. The grinch night shirt is gone, in leiu of a more dignified sweater and slacks, and in her hand she is clutching the smaller of her two bags. She has transformed much like those aliens she seems to think may exist. She's now wearing the same look of cool detatchment that I have come to associate with my partner. Good-bye Dana, Hello Agent Scully.

Walter Skinner rises from the couch as she makes her way across the room, his hand reaching out to her as she passes him the bag. A slight smile threads it's way across her face, her eyes drifting from the bagels she's to me. For a moment I see the vulnerable woman who was here only minutes ago, but she quickly fades into an all business persona.

The situation is clearly out of my control and I have regressed back into merely a watcher and no longer a participant.

Our boss, grabs the other bag from the floor and heads for my front door. The moment is ackward as we are now left to our own devices and the memories of a moment shared in the not to distant past. She is walking towards me and my ingrained flight or fight response has steeled me for a possible slap upside the head from her. This is why when she throws her arms around me and hugs me gently, it comes as something of a shock. It takes me a full heart beat before I am willing to believe it and by this time she has pulled away.

Before she can leave I clutch at her arm. "I want to be in on this, Agent Scully." I repeat my earlier words, but to her this time.

She nods and a shy "thank you" slips from her mouth. Then she is gone, the front door clicking closed behind her.

The day stretches a head of me like long abandoned path threading throught the woods. All my plans for the day have fallen by the wayside.... I need a shower

 

* * * * * *

I'm fast asleep when the phone call comes, shattering me out of my dreams like a bullet through a fresh pane of glass. I spent the day wasting time and doing my best not to think about Dana Scully. Wanting to wash away as much of the situation that has seemily blindsided me. I almost made one of my trips out this evening. I felt in need of someone or something to
momentarily relieve me of everything I am feeling. But that would be revisiting another lifetime. One which I am not sure I want to return to.

It takes me a few moments to clear the sleep from my head and clue into the fact that it's AD Skinner's voice on the other line. A spike of cold fear runs through me as all of my senses suddenly come online. I'm expecting to hear something I am not going to like about my partner, but he's mumbling something about Billy Miles and him not really being dead... I need to get some sleep, but instead I agree to meet with him at the Hoover building.

Whatever the coroner was on it must have been good, because if there is one thing for a fact, it is that dead men don't come back to life..