Disclaimer - I don't own the characters, I just like to play with other people's toys. :)
Chosen
Washington D.C.
1992
The large faux oak conference table was almost too big for the tiny windowless room it was situated in. There was just enough room left for the chairs lining it's sides, and the suited men occupying those chairs, if no one moved much. This particular little cubbyhole was packed tight, which made the smoke emanating from his cigarette seem heavier than it was. It trailed upward in grey wisps that separated as they rose only to reunite against the low ceiling forming an ever growing cloud of chemicals. Sweet nicotine laced chemicals. He leaned his head back and stared longingly at the haze above him. Somewhere in the room one of his colleagues was droning on about the more trivial aspects of their job, personnel files or expense reports or some such nonsense that he never bothered with. It was tedious, that's why he left it to the underlings. He sucked in another long drag and exhaled it slowly, watching the thin grey tendrils as they undulated upward toward their kin.
"Sir?", The distant voice now suddenly sharp and loud, pulled him from his reverie. He lowered his head slowly and leveled his gaze at the fresh faced man in the hideous brown suit. The younger man stared at him expectantly, obviously having posed him some query. Truth be told, he had no idea what the question was but he gave no indication, he simply affected a stoic and some what knowing look and waited. Within seconds the younger man began to fidget, eyes flickering around the table seeking backup or at least a little reassurance. " I only meant that…that maybe we should…" The younger man stammered nervously broken beneath the weight of his piercing stare. A trace of a smile began tugging at the corners of his mouth, succeeding more so on one side than it did the other. He had grown to enjoy the uneasiness he elicited from the people around him.
"He's saying that Mulder is beginning to become a problem, one that should be dealt with before it gets out of hand."
His burgeoning smile faded as he turned to face the all too familiar voice seated directly opposite him. He studied the dark inset eyes peering at him from beneath that deeply wrinkled brow. The man across from him was a professional liar, the professional liar, but the comment spilling from that heavy jowled, thin lipped poker face was all truth, and it bothered him. He said nothing for a few long moments, taking one last long draw from his cigarette, then leisurely crushing it out in the half full ash tray before him.
"Don't think of Mulder as a problem, think of him as tool.", He said pointedly, not breaking eye contact with the liar. "A problem needs to be solved, a tool simply needs to be used."
"You gave us this same speech when you allowed him to open the x-files." the liar's voice was cool as he leaned forward to rest his forearms against the table. "And I have yet to see you put him to good use."
"Would you use a wrecking ball to drive in a nail?" He let a fraction of his agitation seep into his voice for effect, "Mulder is a tool with a specific purpose, and hopefully that purpose is still years away."
The liar's head inclined giving only the slightest of nods, "If you want to keep Mulder on reserve that's fine, but he has to be kept under control until we can use him."
He pulled a pack of Morley's from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. It was more of an instinctual move than the actual desire to smoke another, but once his fingertips contacted cardboard he saw no reason to stop. He flipped the box open drew out the last remaining cigarette and slid it between his lips, never taking his eyes off the drooping face in front of him. The man was right. Mulder had to be brought to heel, and everyone knew it. No argument on the subject would benefit him now. His only response was to light up his last smoke and adjourn this fiasco of a meeting.