Chapter Text
A red metal roof sheltered the First Sunriver Bank from the persistent rain, and tall windows let in what little light there was to be found on such a dreary day. Worn spots in the linoleum hinted at busier times, but there were few patrons in the branch today, standing quietly at teller windows or waiting for loans. They ignored eachother and the yellow cone that warned them of the wet floor, because that cone was always there.
Two young women walked in with expressions to match the weather. No umbrellas or raincoats, just spots of water on their shoulders and jeans. The shorter one, with mousy brown, shoulder-length hair and a ratty gray hooded sweatshirt, carried a coffee can full of coins and looked around for the counting machine without a word. The taller one, with short blonde hair and few tattoos peeking out from under her flannel shirt, glanced anxiously at the others in the branch and fidgeted.
The security guard at the entrance had little better to do than to turn his balding head and give them a closer look. Nervous, but harmless. Probably cashing in their parents piggy bank to buy weed or something. He watched them walk past the row of bulletproof teller windows, past the reinforced security door that led to the private offices and back rooms, where stacks of cash were counted and banded.
Quarters clattered into the machine, and the blonde sat on it, legs kicking the side panel lightly. The brunette watched the numbers on the display counting slowly up. The security door opened to allow a teller out, and the blonde laid a gentle hand on the other girl's shoulder. The guard blinked and the brunette wasn't there. He squinted and rubbed his eyes a little, and looked around, and there she was again.
He shook his head. Nobody else reacted, and nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. Need more sleep I guess.
The last of the coins finally ran through the machine. It spat out a receipt that was meant to be handed to a teller, but was stuffed hastily into the brunette's pocket instead as they shuffled uneasily toward the exit.
Huh. Maybe they're bringing the can in for somebody else. He eyed them closely as they walked across the parking lot, unhurried in spite of the rain, and got into a rusted out pickup truck with a mismatched camper shell. Can't arrest them just for acting suspicious, he thought as they drove off.
In the counting room, stacks of bill bundles with mustard-colored straps sat in a row, one stack shorter than the rest.
"Come on. We totally got away with it. Don't look so glum." The blond climbed into the driver's seat and grabbed a polaroid from the brunette's shaking hands. "Just like you promised. No going back." The reassurances didn't seem to help much, and the brunette's hands were still unsteady as she pulled three crisp bundles of hundred dollar bills out of her sleeve.
(Cue X-Files theme)
"If you could have any kind of superpower, what would it be?"
He'd asked the moment Scully had stepped into the dingy office. She saw Mulder at his desk, which was covered with papers and photos, as well as unruly piles of comic books, with surprisingly few nudie mags poking out. "I assume we have a case?" she asked.
"Come on, what kind?"
Scully thought for a moment. "When I was a kid I thought about being invisible sometimes."
"Every teenage girl wishes for that. What about now?"
That question was harder. "I suppose I've always kind of wanted the ability to heal people. I mean, I already can, sort of; I am a doctor. But, really heal them, you know. What about you?"
"Mind-reading maybe. Astral projection would be nice. Or just the usual flying, invincibility, x-ray vision sort of thing that Superman has going on."
"What about the case?"
Mulder reached for a small remote at the edge of the desk, and switched on an aging slide projector. The first slide was a picture of a picturesque coastal town, sandwiched by woods on one side and water on another, with a lighthouse in the background.
"What am I looking at?"
"Arcadia Bay, Oregon, home of about 5,000 residents, one prestigious college prep school, and... a bunch of fishermen."
"And Bigfoot?"
"Most credible Bigfoot sightings are actually a bit further north, in Washington. No, this is just a quiet town on the Oregon coast. Until..."
The slide machine chunked and an image of rubble that had once been buildings filled the screen.
"Four weeks ago an F-5 tornado started about two miles off the coast and made a beeline straight for the center of the town."
Another slide, of the charred rubble of an old diner. "Not much of it survived."
"That's not exactly tornado alley."
"The whole of Oregon gets about one or two per decade, and most of them don't even register on the Fujita scale."
"What does this have to do with superpowers?"
"I'm getting to that. The tornado was preceded by several reports of other strange meteorological phenomena, most of them unsubstantiated, but we do have this photo."
Clunk.
"Two moons... what could cause that?"
"An optical illusion? Some kind of atmospheric lensing maybe? But there are also reports of mass die-offs of wildlife, and those are confirmed by the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife."
"That could be caused by some kind of pollution. Wouldn't the EPA be more suited to investigate? Or NOAA?"
"They couldn't explain it either."
"Well then how are we even going to start? Are there any clues we can look at? Any suspects?"
"Funny you should mention." A mousy girl with a brown bob cut appeared on the screen. "Maxine Caulfield. Typical Oregon teenager, student at Blackwell Academy, mediocre grades, but with a promising talent for photography. Or at least so the surviving teachers say. Most of the records were destroyed by the tornado, along with parts of the school, and, apparently, Maxine herself. They never found her body, but her parents reported her missing two days after the storm."
"If she's dead how does that help us? And what could she possibly have to do with the weather?"
"Bear with me. After the tornado the weather anomalies stopped, until a few days later in Seattle, which had a high of 104 degrees Fahrenheit on October 11."
"That's unseasonable."
"It's record-breaking. Half a dozen people died of heat stroke."
"I'm still not seeing a connection to this dead girl."
"Well, last Thursday she showed up in Sunriver, Oregon, robbing a local bank."
"So she's not dead. Just in jail."
"Neither."
"You're telling me this teenage girl held up a bank and got away with it?"
"Not held up. She was seen on the surveillance tape teleporting, the same day that thirty grand goes missing from their counting room."
"Teleporting?"
"One second she's there, the next she isn't, then she reappears."
"I'm sure it's just a glitch in the tape, some kind of interference or recording error."
"Nope. Everything else on the recording is perfectly seamless."
"Well I'd like to see that."
"We will. But the Portland field office already did a forensic examination of it, and declared it unaltered."
"Okay. But say you're right, and this girl really can..." Scully seemed to struggle to say the word. "...teleport. I still don't see what that has to do with the tornado."
"The night of the heist some amateur astronomers at the local observatory saw a beautiful and unprecedented meteor shower." A grainy slide of streaks across a bright starfield appeared. "Only trouble is, they weren't expecting one. Academics dismissed their report as a hoax, but I think it was right, and I think it was caused by this girl. I also think she was the source of a freak lightning storm a few days before, which caused a wildfire in Mount Hood National Forest."
"I heard about that. Could still just be a coincidence though, right?"
"Quite the coincidence, considering the heat wave was centered perfectly around this girl's home."
"Even if this girl somehow has a superpower, how does that connect with the freak weather?"
"Just call it a hunch." Mulder smiled. "And even if it doesn't, there's still a bank robbery to investigate. The local sheriff asked for FBI assistance on it, and as soon as Portland analyzed the tape they passed it right to the X-files office. Skinner handed this one to me directly."
"So we're going to Oregon. In November."
"Yep. Pack your good boots. And your swimsuit," Mulder added with a half-smile "You never know what the weather might do."