Spoilers: None; takes place a couple of weeks after Agua Mala

No beta readers were used or harmed in the making of this fic.

With Friends Like These
Rated PG
Suzanne L. Feld

"Hey Dana, you about? Pick up if so, if not give me a call back or wander on by. I'm home now—it's about 4:30—and should be in town over the weekend, although as always that's subject to change. Talk atcha later."

Scully rewound the answering machine, kicking off her shoes in the general direction of the front door. It had been one hell of a long, difficult case and she was glad to hear Brenna's peculiarly husky voice on the answering machine. Though it was less than an hour since the call, she wanted to do a few things before returning it.

The week and a half she and Mulder had just spent in Idaho had been a nightmare, both personally and professionally. Her partner had been at his snarky, openly alien-hunting best, and of course the local police thought she was a nutcase right along with him despite her carefully professional demeanor. It didn't help, she thought, that they'd gotten lost in the wilds of the Sawtooth National Forest overnight and were found by rescue dogs the next day. Best of all, when she got back to her motel room she found that her suitcase had been dumped on the floor so the dogs could get her scent and most of her clothing damaged or dirtied by said dogs.

Once she'd managed to get Mulder to admit that there was absolutely no proof that aliens were hanging out in the forest despite the wild rumors of lights and disappearances and lost time, she'd talked him into going home on the next flight which was at noon the following day. Unfortunately, the next morning he'd gotten a call from a MUFON member in Nampa, which wasn't far from where they caught their plane in Boise, so they were off again.

The MUFON woman, Alice Cain, had been nuttier than that wanna-be abductee during the Jose Chung case, she thought as she walked into her bedroom and shucked her blazer, setting it neatly on the bed. For once Mulder knew schizophrenia when he saw it, though it was too late to fly out that evening once they managed to ditch the nutjob.

Though the motel in Nampa, Idaho that they'd stayed the last couple of nights at had had a bathtub it had been barely large enough even for her small frame and so she'd missed her daily soaks and planned to have one before anything else.

Lost in thought, she undressed down to her underwear and wandered into the bathroom to start her bath. If she and Brenna could manage a coffee or lunch together that would be fantastic, she thought, a little taste of normality after the crazy week with Mulder she'd just endured. She hadn't planned to make a new friend, in fact she barely kept in touch with any of the friends she did have, but this had just happened and, for once, she rode with it without analyzing it to death. If Brenna was an agent of the Consortium or a CIA spy or whatnot that had been moved into her building to spy on her, more power to her.

She closed the bathroom door, clipped her hair on top of her head, shucked her undies, and climbed in even before the tub was full, then remembered that she hadn't put on the stereo. Too late, she thought as she sank down into the steaming hot water, her skin tingling as each part was submerged. Gingerly she sat back against the old claw-footed tub's sloped back, grimacing as her skin touched the cool enamel.

So ten days in the Gem State (which she knew was its official nickname even though most people thought potatoes when they thought of Idaho) with nothing to show for it. The bean counters were going to have a ball this quarter, she thought glumly. She and Mulder were really going to hear it about this trip.

The one good thing had been the scenery, which in the national forest had been just stunning—at least until it got dark. This time they'd been much more prepared than they'd been in the Florida woods. Though they hadn't brought tents or blankets, they did have a backpack with a lighter and bottles of water and some food so while somewhat uncomfortable, the night had been passable. They had slept on the ground with their jackets over them, side-by-side and eventually curling up together for warmth. It was as close as they'd ever come to sharing a bed, and how comfortable and familiar it had been still haunted her.

No sooner had she shut off the water and slid down until her shoulders were covered than she heard the phone ringing in the next room. "I don't think so," she mumbled, laying her head back against the tub's high rim and closing her eyes. A few minutes later she heard the answering machine talking, but couldn't make out if it was a man's or a woman's voice and, at that moment, didn't really care. The hot water and sandalwood bath oil were finally relaxing her and she had no plans to leave the tub until she was good and ready.

Some time later she was semi-dozing in the tepid water with her arms draped over the tub's enameled sides, not feeling energetic enough to either add hot water or get out, when she thought she heard something outside the bathroom. Scully opened her eyes just in time to see the bathroom door swing open to reveal her partner's worried, and then shocked, face.

"Mulder, what the hell?" she snapped, coming wide awake and sitting up, splashing water over the sides of the tub. She was so shocked and angry that it didn't even occur to her to cover herself as she was fully visible in the clear water. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I, ah, you didn't answer either of your phones," he stammered, backing out of the room and closing the door most of the way, speaking through the crack.

"That would be because I wanted to be left alone," she snarled, pulling the plug and standing up, grabbing the thick towel from the closed toilet seat lid and wrapping it around her. "I needed it after—"

Then she heard an unmistakable voice from the other room. "Who the hell are you and why are you in Dana's apartment with the front door wide open?"

"Brenna, that's my partner, it's okay," she called through the crack of the bathroom door. "I'll be out in a minute."

Thankfully her white terrycloth bathrobe hung on the back of the door since she'd forgotten to bring pajamas in the room with her. She left the towel around herself before pulling the robe on, then took a deep breath and marched out into the living room.

Mulder and Brenna were standing a few feet apart glaring at each other as she walked into the living room tying the belt around her slim waist. "Brenna, this is my partner Fox Mulder. Mulder, Brenna Spencer. She lives down the hall."

The other woman stepped over and shook Mulder's hand briefly, both of them still eyeing each other. Scully couldn't help thinking for the first time that Brenna was Mulder's "type", a fairly tall brunette with a shapely figure. Though her breasts weren't what Scully would have classified as overly large, they were bigger than hers if somewhat hidden behind the other woman's loose, blousy uniform shirt.

Uniform shirt? Scully wondered. Hadn't Brenna said on the recording that she was off for a few days? However, she was presently wearing the navy blue and heather grey uniform of the airline she flew for.

"I stopped by to tell you that I have to make a run tonight but I'll be back by tomorrow morning, so why don't we meet for breakfast?" Brenna turned away from Mulder as she spoke, her shoulders relaxing. "Say nine at Chapman's?"

"Sounds good, I'll call and make us a reservation," Scully smiled over at her. "Just call my cell if something comes up, I'm usually up by seven even on Saturday."

"It's a plan," Brenna tilted her head in agreement, and then turned to look at her friend's partner again, giving him a clear up and down. "Good to, ah, meet you, Fox."

Scully closed the door behind the other woman after she left, then turned to Mulder with hands on hips. "So you came bursting in here, leaving the door wide open, and startled my neighbors while you were at it?" she said, pinning her partner with a glare and a raised eyebrow. "Just because you couldn't get hold of me? For what? It had better not be another case. We just got back!"

"I was worried about you, Scully, when you didn't answer either of your phones," Mulder was clearly on the defensive. "It's not totally unfounded, you know."

Scully blew out a breath that ruffled the damp hair over her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I know. But you had no reason to think that anything was wrong, Mulder, and I gave you that key to use for emergencies, not whenever you feel like wandering into my place."

"Well, Scully, I'm not going to apologize for overreacting," Mulder said, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket. "We've saved each other's lives too many times for that."

She couldn't argue that and didn't reply. "So what did you want, anyway, Mulder?" Scully said, checking the tie on her robe, which seemed to be coming loose though she wasn't moving.

"You look cold, Scully, why don't you go get dressed?" he suggested, then turned and flopped down on her couch. "If you're hungry we can—"

"Mulder! Out! Now!" Scully pointed to the front door, which was just a foot or so away from her outstretched finger. His remark about her being cold reminded her that he'd seen her naked and brought her embarrassment to the fore. "My evening is going to consist of a fire, a good book, a Lean Cuisine entrée, and my bed, in that order. And you are not invited to any of them!"

"Jesus, Scully, sor-ree," Mulder said sullenly, his cheeks flushing a dull red as he got up. "Didn't realize that I was being such a pain in the ass."

As he passed her Scully reached out and put a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks and looking up into his stormy face. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I didn't mean to be a bitch but I am majorly stressed out from this last case. I really just need to be alone, okay?"

He sighed, letting his shoulder slump from their tenseness. "Okay. And I didn't mean to freak on you like that. See you Monday, then?"

"Monday, too bright and too early," she agreed, smiling up at him as she opened the door.

"Oh, Scully? One more thing?"

"Yes?" Impatient, trying not to show it so he wouldn't start pouting again.

"I have to tell you that I wish you didn't have to hide that awesome figure under those severe suits. Yowza."

By the time she closed her mouth and thought of a retort, he was gone.

"So why didn't you tell me that your partner was a babe?"

Scully grimaced as she lifted a forkful of rosemary and sour cream potato pancakes to her mouth. "God, I don't even want to think about him right now," she said, then took the bite and savored it. Chapman's was a tiny hole-in-the-wall breakfast place that made some of the most unusual and delicious breakfasts she'd ever had. It was well worth having to run an extra mile to burn off the calories.

Brenna was treating her cinnamon cream pancakes the same way, slowly chewing every bite. "You do know that he's, like, super-hot, right?" her friend said from across the tiny 1940s-era Formica table. "I know that sometimes when you work with someone you don't realize what they really look like, know what I mean?"

"Oh, I'm quite aware of Mulder's looks, he uses those puppy-dog eyes on me every chance he gets, not that it does him any good," Scully admitted. "Besides, it seems like every other woman we come in contact with has an eye on him."

"Cocksman, is he?" Brenna said in a low voice, grinning. "The love 'em and leave 'em type?"

"Not so you'd know it; as far as I know he hasn't dated since we've worked together," Scully admitted, omitting the fact that she hadn't much either. "I do know that he's had at least two, probably more, bad relationships and that seems to have put him off women."

"Still, I don't know how you can work with such a hunk and not want to jump his bones," Brenna said bluntly. "I work with some hot guys at times and I never hesitate, so long as they're not married. I don't go there."

"Ah, but they're not your law enforcement partner," Scully countered. She was already used to Brenna's blunt and sometimes thoughtless remarks. For all that, she was a lot of fun to be around and with her odd hours, never had a problem with Scully's schedule changing at the last minute. "It's hard enough being a woman in an old-school men's job, but to get caught sleeping with your partner? I'd get laughed out of the Bureau."

"Eh, I've got the old-boys thing going on too, but no one seems to think much of anyone sleeping around—most of us do it," the other woman said blithely. "What else ya gonna do on a three-hour layover in Provo, Utah for example?"

Scully chuckled. "You have a point there." She pushed away her empty plate and sat back, cupping her hands around a large ceramic mug of strong coffee. "No, I think Mulder's pretty oblivious to how he looks; he's always well-groomed but I suspect he doesn't think much about his appearance otherwise. He's married to his work, just like I am."

"You know, Dana, I love my job but I'm not married to it. I've been flying since I was fourteen years old and can't imagine doing anything else, but if that elusive Mr. Right came along and I was sure, I'd give it up. At least the left seat; I'd still fly but not with these hours."

"Or pay," Scully teased her over the stack of dirty dishes in the middle of the table. The service here was often so-so, but the food was worth putting up with it.

"Or pay," Brenna agreed, grinning toothily. "I make more than most airline captains dollar for dollar. Of course it makes my life hectic, especially if we get a cargo like live animals or donor organs or whatnot, but it's fun all the same." She often bragged about how much she made; apparently pilots didn't fly to make money but she seemed to be managing it just the same being an on-call cargo pilot for a private shipping company.

Scully glanced at her watch. "Well, what do you say we head back? I rented 'Ladyhawke' and can make a fresh pot of coffee since you said you want to stay up for a while."

"Add in a fire and it's a date, girlfriend. If we can ever get the check, that is."

No sooner had they settled down on the couch with fresh cups of coffee and the remote in Scully's hand than there was a knock at the door. "You've got to be kidding me," she groaned, hitting the pause button then handing the remote to Brenna and getting up. "It better not be who I think it is."

Of course, it was. "Hey, Scully, busy?" Mulder greeted her, and then looked past her and his half-smile faded. "Oh. I see you are."

"Yes, Brenna and I were just about to watch a movie. What is it, Mulder?" she said, one hand on the doorjamb with her body across the opening, deliberately not inviting him in. God, what was it with him this week, she wondered with real annoyance. Hadn't he had enough of her in Idaho? God knew she'd had enough of him! Especially after he'd walked in on her yesterday, which she was doing her damnedest to forget.

"Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to have lunch and talk about a new case I just came across, but I guess not," he said, shoulders slumping and eyes dropping, the very picture of dejection.

"You're welcome to join us, Fox, if you'd like," Brenna called from behind her. "If you don't mind watching a chick flick."

"What is it?" Though he was responding to Brenna's voice, Mulder looked down at Scully hopefully.

"Ladyhawke," she said hesitantly. Though she was initially annoyed with Brenna inviting him in without asking her—in her own apartment, of all places! —perhaps it wouldn't be bad to have her partner spend the afternoon. She'd already seen the movie so if he made his usual snarky remarks during the film it wouldn't bother her and would serve Brenna right if it annoyed her. And he could be damn funny when it came right down to it.

"I haven't seen that," he said, making it more of a question than a reply.

"Well, then, I guess you'd better come in and join us," Scully said with a hidden sigh as she turned away from the door. So much for having had enough of my partner, she thought. "As long as you don't talk about work, that is."

To her surprise, they ended up having a good time watching the movie together. Mulder's wiseass remarks had both of the women laughing, and Brenna didn't seem to mind missing some of the dialog due to laughter and/or conversation.

The fire had died down to flickering orange coals and the coffeepot was empty when Brenna reluctantly rose from her end of the couch as Scully turned off the TV and VCR. "Much as I hate to, I've got to get to bed and catch some zees," she said apologetically as the other two stood up as well. "I'm off the rotation for the next twelve hours, but I'd better get some sleep while I can. Thanks, Dana, I had a good time."

"Me too, Brenna," she said. "Hopefully it won't be another two weeks before we get to see each other again ."

"It was fun hanging with you," Mulder said as the three of them walked towards the door.

"Same here… but if you'd like, you can come hang with me some more," she said, pausing with one hand on the doorknob and winking at him. "I don't have to go right to sleep."

Both partners stared at the tall brunette, Mulder with his panic face and Scully with her professional blank face. "Uh, thanks, but I gotta get going too," he said, inadvertently taking a step back.

Brenna grinned unashamedly. "Had to give it the old college try. Lemme know if you ever change your mind as the offer stands. See ya around, Dana."

After she left the partners stood by the door for a moment, studiously not looking at each other in an uncomfortable silence. "She's, uh, direct, isn't she?" Mulder finally said, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his faded jeans.

"Yeah, that she is," Scully agreed, turning away and going into the living room where she began to gather up the dirty glasses, cups, and dishes. Mulder quickly moved to help, though neither was looking at each other. "I'm surprised you didn't take her up on it."

Mulder glanced sideways at her, hesitated, and then said, "Well, you know, I get so many invitations like that that I couldn't possibly indulge them all."

The corner of Scully's mouth quirked, though she didn't quite smile. "Yeah, I have a time fighting through the women lined up in the hallway when I come by your place," she said dryly as she began to run water into the sink. "And the crowd in the basement is ridiculous."

Mulder picked up the dishtowel out of sheer habit. Whenever he stayed for dinner, she washed and he dried and they fell into the routine without thought. "Actually, Scully, did I ever tell you that I wore a wedding ring my first few years with the Bureau to keep the woman away?" he admitted. "After Phoebe I really didn't feel like dating but I guess with the usual pick of aging agents, a young guy was irresistible."

"And you're still sticking with that, sans ring?" Scully said noncommittally, elbow-deep in suds. As she'd suspected, Mulder appeared to be mostly oblivious to his looks.

Studiously not looking at her as he dried a glass Mulder said in a deliberately bland tone of voice, "There is someone that I want to be with, but we both know the time isn't right. She's worth waiting for, and I hope she feels the same about me."

With a jolt that nearly made her drop the mug that she had just lifted out of the water Scully realized that he was talking about her. Who else could it be?

Without thinking about it she jerked around and stared at the side of his face, then felt her own flame and looked down at the suds sloshing in the sink again. After a moment she handed him the cup—not realizing that she'd forgotten to rinse it—and said, "I'm sure she does, Mulder. If not, wouldn't she be dating too?"

He let his breath out with a silent whoosh, barely swiping the cup with the towel and setting it on the counter with the rest of the dishes awaiting being put away with a slightly shaking hand that she couldn't help but notice but didn't remark on; still, it did her heart good. "You've got a point, there, Scully. So, hey, did you think that Skinner was going to blow steam out of his ears when we have him the sea monster report?"

The rest of the dishwashing passed without incident, and after they'd put everything away Scully turned to Mulder. "I'm meeting my mom for lunch at two, so I've got to leave," she said. "You're welcome to join us."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't intrude—besides, the guys down at the Y would think I was sick if I didn't show up for our usual Saturday afternoon games," he said with a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks for the movie and all, Scully. See you Monday at work?"

"For real this time, Mulder?" she said archly with one brow up, then barely managed to not laugh out loud at the taken aback look on Mulder's face. "I guess unless one of us gets eaten by Godzilla that should be the plan."

"You do keep me guessing, Scully," he grinned down at her as he pulled on his jacket. "And if I don't see you Monday morning, I'll know where you're at."

Later that evening Scully built a fire and curled up on the couch with her tattered copy of Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon, but after just a few minutes she realized that she couldn't concentrate. She lowered the open book to her stomach and folded her hands on top of it, staring unseeingly at the dancing flames across the room. She was mulling over what Mulder had insinuated earlier that day; during lunch and shopping with her mom she'd managed to put it out of her mind but now it refused to go away.

She had never really put much thought into it, so the idea that Mulder was waiting for her really threw her off-kilter. Work had absorbed so much of her life the past few years that she'd lost touch with most of her friends and the only people she had hung out with regularly before meeting Brenna was Mulder and her mother. Now she not only had a good friend who was interested in her partner but him as a possible love interest as well? Will wonders never cease, she thought with a mental head shake.

As for Brenna… though she wasn't pleased by the blatant propostion in front of her, at least she knew where the other woman and her partner stood. Mulder was clearly not interested in Brenna and had made it clear that he was waiting for Scully so she decided not to lose her friendship with Brenna over him.

Still deep in thought Scully reached out and picked up her mug of herbal tea, all that she allowed herself anytime after seven in the evening unless she needed to stay up past midnight. A moment later she spit it out, luckily missing both her trade paperback and the homemade knit afghan covering her lap, though her coffee table wasn't so lucky. Peering down into the cup, she noted that there were tiny bubbles on top of and a slight rainbow sheen to the liquid inside. "Mulder, I'm going to kick your ass," she mumbled as she got up to rinse the soapy taste out of her mouth, remembering only in her distracted state that he'd helped her with the dishes earlier. "Teach you about not rinsing my dishes to get out of having to help clean up!"

On Monday, when she bitched him out for not rinsing the dishes thoroughly, Mulder was baffled but accepted the rebuke with uncharacteristic silence since he clearly remembered that she had both washed and rinsed. His reasoning was that if he got to hang out at Scully's again, with or without that nympho friend of hers, it was worth a scolding or two—whether or not he deserved it.

finis