I'm please to present my first X-Files fanfic. First the disclaimer: CC owns everything except my imagination. What If…came to me while reading all of your stories so I have to thank each and everyone of you for the inspiration. I couldn't stop thinking, what if…
I thought, at first, it would be a single short work. My imagination has already dreamt up at least five or six chapter of angst but its MSR all the way following cannon as far as possible.
Day 1: Friday night in late winter…
'Two inches,' Dr Dana Scully muttered under her breath. 'Two inches, dammit.'
Late for work this morning, due in part to a power cut causing her alarm clock to fail and in part to the 60 hours already spent in the ER this week, Scully emptied her mail box directly into her bag. The day only got worse. Three codes in the first hour, followed by a multi-car pile up on major access road out of D.C., cause by the same rolling blackouts from the sudden blizzard meant no lunch break, in fact not a break of any kind. Non-urgent patients backed up to an eight hour wait time, fraying tempers of both staff and those awaiting medical attention.
Finally, four hours after her shift should have ended, Dr Scully showered and changed into civilian clothes and prepared to go home. As she walked to her car, Dana sifted through the mail, forgotten since this morning. Three accounts, electricity which seemed a joke, car insurance and medical registration. Well next months pay, now accounted for, meant more overtime if she wanted to buy the small luxuries like groceries. That great two bedroom apartment in Georgetown she'd seen last weekend became a figment of her imagination.
Hope came in the form of the final letter. Months ago she'd applied to the FBI. Dana Scully had two reasons for applying. Crippling debit in the form of student loans needed to be repaid for medical school and she came from a service family. The expectation, the hope of her parents, to give something back to the community, became Dana's dream. The FBI appeared to fulfil both need and want, even if her parents wanted a career in medicine for their daughter.
Then, out of the blue, last week, Dana had an interview at the J Edgar Hoover Building with two Assistant Directors and a Deputy Director. She'd nailed the interview, just like Dana Scully nailed everything she did. Well, everything in her professional life, her personal life needed a lot of work.
Now that dream, of joining the FBI lay crushed, like the paper it'd been printed on, because Dr Dana Scully proved to be two inches short of the 5'6" cut off for female agents. Oh she could apply to be a civilian consultant pathologist. The thought of basement rooms, filled with dead bodies and just adequate equipment didn't thrill Dr Scully. Maybe it would be better to continue as slave labour in the ER on her way to becoming an attending and a better pay check.
Spying a bar called "Spookies Rest" she pulled into the closest parking space. How apt, that's just what I want to do, Dana thought, get rid all my ghosts. Even though she couldn't afford to get rolling drunk, it seemed like a great idea at the moment. Exiting the car, her letter from the FBI academy at Quantico lay disregarded on the passenger seat. Tonight she just wanted to forget.
Opening the door, a small bell jangled. No one looked up, no one took any notice of the pretty, little redhead slowing making her way inside the establishment. It gave Dana time to observe her surroundings. The mood lighting created just the right level of quiet, intimate ambience. An old fashioned wooden bar ran the length of one side of the room with three stools at either end. All the stools nearest her were empty, probably due to there proximity to the plate glass front window. Intimate booths lined the other side of the space, hiding their patrons and allowing a great degree of privacy. Between the two, table and chairs in various combinations littered the floor. Dana's attention went immediately to the dark end of the bar. Six shot glasses lined the bar before the morose man seated on the middle stool.
Before her mind could make a decision, Dana's legs carried her to the seat next to him. Misery loves company, she thought, and he's probably the only man in the place who won't try to pick me up. Besides, the other stools backing into the room are taken and I don't want to sit in a booth or be on display in the front window.
Making her way to her chosen destination, Dana became aware of the frankly admiring gazes from several men. She ignored the blatant attempts to engage eye contact. Only the dark haired, trench coated figure at the opposite end of the bar seemed oblivious to her, confirming Dr Dana Scully's previous opinion. He, at least, isn't interested.
An all encompassing silence descended in the moments after Dana took her seat. The man to her left didn't so much as flinch at her arrival. Nor did he attempt to engage her in any way.
Well isn't that what I wanted, Scully asked her conscious, not liking the negative answer. Something in his manner attracted her. Something about him attracted her. Dammed if she knew what.
'What'll it be,' the blond bar tender broke into Scully's internal conversation. She'd finally made her way to the end of the bar where Dana and the strange man sat, side by side.
'I'll have…' Scully hesitated, wanting to say what he's having so I can get blind drunk too, but it suddenly seemed clichéd.
'Pour me two,' the warm tones of the man beside Dana startled her out of her revere. Pushing a newly poured shot glass from the six lined up in front of him in her direction, his warm chocolate eyes met Dana's for the first time. She felt like drowning.
Oh God, I'm in trouble, she knew it as surely as she knew her name.
Holding his glass aloft, he waited for her to follow before muttering 'cheers,' downing the fiery liquid and signalling for another round. The bar tender quickly complied, filling the third and fourth glasses before the man, then moved back to her patrons at the opposite end of the bar.
'I could ask what a nice girl like you is doing in a place like this,' he teased, handing Scully yet another shooter, 'but your expression suggests disappointment. Cheers,' he commented, still holding her gaze as he swallowed the contents of the second measure.
Just like that, like the contents of the small glass being poured down her throat, Scully's life story tumbled out, to this virtual stranger.
'I'm 27 years of age, smart, educated, well adjusted. After years of studying pre-med and physics, followed by med school, I got rejected by the FBI as a field agent. I work 120 hour weeks at the Emergency Room, live in a bed sit on the fifth floor of a walk up in a questionable neighbourhood and owe more than I'm likely to make in the next five years. My professional life sucks big time but that's nothing in comparison to my personal life. As to intimate relationships, well let's not go there,' she spat in disgust.
'My 32 year old brother is married with two kids and talking about producing a third in the near future. He followed Dad into the navy as an officer and gentleman. His career gets stronger every time I talk to him. I love and hate him at the same time because he's got everything I ever wanted and it's been so easy for him.' Although Scully wanted to keep the rancour out of her voice, two shots made the emotion impossible to hide.
'My 30 year old sister is, to quote the vernacular, "way out", believing in emotions and sprits and anything else vaguely new aged. Missy's always attempting to "loosen" me up emotionally. She owns a business called "Strange Encounters".'
'That's on K street,' the slight smile had started as a twitching of his lips when Scully commenced her triad and ended as the bright grin lighting his entire face. 'I know it well.'
'That figures.' Scully sighed with resentment. 'Everyone who meets Missy remembers her.'
'All that red hair's pretty hard to miss,' holding his hands up in supplication, he continued, 'no pun intended. It's a lot like yours actually.' The comment caught Dana broadside and she turned her cerulean glare on him wondering if she'd been wrong about his interest in her. Before Scully could formulate the words to ask, he continued. 'Any other siblings I should know about?' he quizzed with just the right amounts of humour and cynicism, returning their conversation to it former topic.
'My younger brother, always wanted to see the world,' Scully sighed.
'So he became a pilot?' There, that lightly teasing tone, as though they were good friends, sent a shiver of… longing, needing, wanting…maybe even Déjà vu, down Scully's spine.
'Flight attendant,' Dana answered, suddenly unable to meet the liquid chocolate eyes peering into her soul. 'Enough about me,' she stated in her best doctor voice.
A hearty chuckle escaped his lips, making him look years younger than the age Scully first suspected. 'Are you sure you want to know?'
'I'm game,' she answered, intrigued by this man on so many levels she couldn't even begin to contemplate.
Reaching into the inner pocket of his trench coat, he pulled out a black leather folder. Opening it, he laid it open on the bar between them.
'Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI,' Scully looked in askance.
'Believe me,' his eyes shone with a strange mixture of failed hope and not quite disappointment, 'it's not all its cracked up to be.'