A Beginner's Guide to Tightrope Walking by Kel (PG)

[wendelah1]

Fandom: THE X-FILES
Pairing/Characters: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Length: novella
Author on LJ: aslownight
Author Website: her page at Gossamer
Why this must be read:

I can't believe how fast the time has gone. For these final days I am going to focus on fanfiction for The X-Files which I consider essential reading. Regardless of whether it's been recced here before, unless it was during the past couple of years, I consider it fair game.

I recced this story myself when it was first posted in 2007, and at het_reccers a few years ago. Both sets of links are broken. It's an old fandom. In any case, this is one of my favorite stories of all time from one of our most accomplished and under-appreciated writers--by the general readership, though not by her fellow authors--the one and only Kel.

Kel has set her tale in a post-Requiem universe where seasons eight and nine never happened. "Mulder and Scully have a son named William, but he wasn't born in a ghost town or adopted by farmers or anything stupid like that." It's told from the POV of her original character Jerry Luskin, making his fourth or fifth appearance in a Kel fic. It has that trademark Kel wit, edge of your seat suspense, smooth prose, terrific characterizations, an irresistible mix of humor and poignancy, and a far more satisfying ending to the series than the stupid one we got from 1013.

"I want to know what's going on with you," I said. Then I remembered Dana's phone call. "I think your wife does too."

I took my eyes off the road to catch his reaction. It was gone in a second, but what passed across his face was desperation.

"Back off," he barked. "And stay away from my wife."

"I'm not going to cover up your torch job!"

"Look up the police report." His voice was strained, almost ragged. "I bet they're not even calling it arson."

I had. It was all about hazardous materials, improperly stored. But I hated the weasel way he was answering me.

"But you know something about it," I said.

"What would I know?" His voice was a monotone. "I'm the one who suffered a psychotic break, probably related to learning of the pregnancy of my partner. I've never been able to give a satisfactory explanation for my subsequent disappearance, and my wildly bizarre accounts of that time are evidence of paranoid delusions possibly enhanced by the ingestion of psilocybin or similar compounds."

Old news. He was the ex-agent unfit for even ordinary-level security clearance, and I was the jack-ass who hired him.

"You've had seven years to rehabilitate yourself," I said. "Tell me what's going on."

Read "A Beginner's Guide to Tightrope Walking" and then head to Gossamer and read everything else. You will not be sorry.