Title: Blessed Union of Souls I: Not the Doctor 05/11
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: Through Season Five
Keywords: M/S UST
Summary: A man from Scully's past returns, asking for her and Mulder's help to
stop the development of a deadly biological weapon. But will the case bring
Mulder and Scully closer together, or tear them apart?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
"Not the Doctor"
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 5
I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine
Lend me some fresh air
I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you
"Look at that," said Scully, pointing to the computer screen.
She stiffened suddenly as she felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and the
gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder. She sighed softly at the unaccustomed
contact, but said nothing.
"Interesting," he said, moving closer so that he could get a better look at the
technical readout. As he moved his face closer to the screen to make out the
numbers, his hand slowly slid downward, to the small of her back.
An involuntary shiver ran up her spine.
"But I wonder why these peaks keep on descending," he remarked, tracing the
readout on the screen with the fingers of one hand even as those of his other
traced their own downward path.
As Scully realized that his hand was not stopping at her lower back, the shiver
of a moment earlier transformed into a sensation of disgust that made her skin
crawl. An instant before his fingers were about to squeeze her soft, round flesh
through her skirt, she spun around and grabbed his arm, pinning it behind his
back as she shoved him against the wall--hard. He grunted as she twisted his arm
in the socket and jammed his wrist into his back.
"Scully! What the hell are you doing?" he gasped.
"If you ever so much as touch me again, you sonuva--"
At that moment, two other men walked into the room. Seeing the petite redhead
restraining her would-be paramour, they immediately began to laugh.
"Geez, Frohike, can't we leave you unsupervised for more than two minutes?"
Langly asked, eyes twinkling behind his black-rimmed glasses.
"What did he do this time, Scully?" Byers asked. In utter contrast to the
dignified facade and impeccable manner presented by his conservative suit and
neatly-trimmed beard, a snortling chuckle of amusement escaped his lips.
"Your colleague here decided to let his fingers do some walking," Scully replied
through clenched teeth, her grip on Frohike's arm not yielding.
"Hey, it was just friendly little--yow!" he cried out as she twisted his arm
further. "Hey, that's my bowling arm."
"You've never bowled in your life, Frohike."
"You're not helping here, Byers."
"What, the minute Mulder's not around, you decide she's yours for the taking?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Langly realized he never should have
uttered them. Especially any mention of her absent partner's name.
Scully glared at the blonde man, eyes narrowing in contempt.
His blood turned cold, and he had to fight the instinct to place his hands over
his groin in protection.
"Nobody owns me," she spat, "and I do *not* need Mulder's protection."
Swallowing, Langly vigorously nodded his head in agreement.
"Frohike, promise her you'll behave so we can get down to business, will you?"
Byers asked, walking over to the computer.
"I promise, I promise. Uncle! Uncle!" the older man yelped.
"All right," Scully said, releasing him. "But just remember, Frohike, next time
you try anything it's not your *arm* I'm going after."
"Yes, Ma'am, Dr. Scully, ma'am," he muttered, rubbing his sore shoulder.
All right, so maybe he went a little too far this time. When Scully came to
them, she was obviously upset, and he had just wanted to offer her a little
comfort. Could he help it if his hand had a mind of its own? Sure, he was a
dirty old man--he was the first to admit it--but he was completely harmless, and
Scully knew that. She had never really seemed to mind his flirting before. She
would roll her eyes or sigh and pretend she never heard the comment. But this
morning, she reacted like he was some perp who tried to attack her. She was
definitely upset--and Scully usually concealed such emotion behind a cool
demeanor. Only one person he knew of could get under her skin that way.
As a more literal interpretation of the expression conjured all sorts of
lascivious pictures in his mind, a grin curled his lips. He immediately wiped it
from his face for fear that she would notice it and take another go at him. He
took his seat at the computer console and managed a surreptitious glance in her
direction. Though she no longer seemed ready to tear him limb from limb, she was
still noticeably distressed: Her brow was creased and her mouth was cast in an
angry scowl.
*Yep, she's definitely worried about you, Mulder. And if she was ready to make
me a eunuch for a friendly little pat, I'd hate to see what she does to you for
ditching her when she gets her hands on you, buddy.*
"Okay, so here's what we found regarding voice patterns from that audio tape you
gave us," Frohike said, keying up a new image on the computer screen.
As Frohike and Langly began to explain the significance of the readout, Byers
split his attention between listening to their words and watching Scully. She
stood staring at the screen, arms crossed, brow furrowed. He could tell,
however, that her mind was not completely on the case at hand. One did not have
to be Einstein to figure out what--or rather, whom--occupied her thoughts at the
moment.
"Can I get a print out of this?" Scully asked when they had finished their
report.
"Sure," Frohike replied, tapping away at the keyboard. "I'll have to send it to
the laser printer in the other room, since this one's on the fritz."
"Oh, I disconnected it yesterday morning when I was fixing it," Langly said.
"Well, then, let's go see about reconnecting it," Frohike said, getting up.
"C'mon, dude, you can give me a hand. We'll be right back with your print out,
Scully. Byers, keep the good doctor entertained, okay?" he said as he and Langly
left the room.
Scully silently walked across the room, stopping in front of the far wall to
stare at framed copies of _The Lone Gunman_ front pages. Wrapping her arms
around herself, she sighed.
"Agent Scully," Byers began cautiously, walking closer to her, "I know this is
none of my business, but if you'd like to talk about it. . . ."
Byers had been the one to call Mulder at work early that morning to tell him
that the evidence he and the other Gunmen had been analyzing had produced some
interesting results. Scully had picked up the office phone, sounding much more
frigid than normal. He told her that they had something she and Mulder would
probably want to check out.
"Well, *I'd* be happy to stop by and take a look," Scully had remarked. The
indignation in her voice had been unmistakable.
Byers had paused then, trying to decide what to make of her statement. "Is
Mulder not in yet?" he asked in a benign tone.
The line went suddenly quiet.
"Agent Scully? You still there?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, Byers." Another pause. "No, Mulder's not here."
"Oh." Byers hesitated. Luckily, Scully spoke again, ending the awkward silence.
"I- I'll be right over," she had finished hastily before disconnecting. She was
true to her word, and a short while later, she had arrived. While Byers and
Langly took care of some other unfinished business, Frohike had begun to brief
her on their findings.
"There's not much to talk about," Scully said now, her gaze still fixed on the
frames.
Byers paused, deciding whether to put himself out on a limb and pose the
inevitable question. "Did something happen between you and Mulder?" he asked
finally.
"Nothing happened between us," she replied. When she continued, her voice was
little more than a whisper. "And that's just the problem."
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Join the club," she remarked, her tone caustic.
Realizing there was definite trouble brewing, Byers decided to push her a little
to get to the bottom of the situation. Perhaps he could act as moderator and
patch things up between the estranged partners. "When was the last time you
spoke to him?"
"I haven't seen him since yesterday evening, when I left the office."
"Think he might just be sleeping in?"
"No." Scully cleared her throat before continuing. "He evidently decided to go
off on his own to do a little private investigating, but neglected to tell me
about it." Her statement was laced with an anger Byers had never heard in her
voice before. He kept silent, though, allowing her to continue.
"We were supposed to meet last night, but Mulder never showed." She paused, and
Byers could tell that there was more to the story than she was letting on. This
was more than a mere misunderstanding or a fight; something deeper had occurred.
"I tried calling him," she resumed, "but his machine was on, his cell was out of
service, and there was no answer at the office. At the time, I figured maybe he
got wrapped up in some work, and lost track of the time."
"But now . . . ?"
"But when I came into the office this morning, I saw that Mulder left his desk
in a state of disarray." She heard Byers chuckle. "As I'm sure you're aware, in
and of itself, that isn't unusual for Mulder. But aside from reports strewn
across his desk, his computer was still on--with an open file on the screen. I
checked the time it was last saved. It was at 6:03 P.M., about an hour after I
left. The thing is, Mulder never leaves without shutting his computer down.
That, and there were several lights on. I also noticed some blank sheets of
scrap paper scattered near the phone, along with an open pen."
"Sounds like he might have been jotting down a message. Did you try the ole
pencil trick?"
"I didn't bother; there were no writing imprints left on the other sheets. I
just got the overall impression that he left the office suddenly, as though in a
hurry."
"Did he leave you a note?"
"None that I could find. Have you guys heard from him recently?"
"No. We were all here last night, working on that cassette tape Mulder gave us.
We haven't spoken to him since he dropped it off day-before-yesterday. You don't
have any idea where he might be?"
"*Where*, no. *Why*, I think I have a pretty good idea."
"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like the answer?"
She sighed. "I'm sure he's told you about the Andraven case. . . ."
Byers made a derisive sound. "He's griped to all three of us, collectively and
separately, about that guy getting off. Not that I blame him, mind you. Last I
heard, though, you two were told to back off by your boss."
"That's right: A.D. Skinner pulled us off the case, and forbid Mulder or me from
going anywhere near Andraven or from investigating him in any official
capacity."
"But you think Mulder may have decided to take matters into his own hands, and
continued with the case anyway?"
"Yes. Typical Mulder to throw caution--and regulations--to the wind in order to
pursue a lead."
Byers nodded. "I don't think the danger aspect even occurs to him--especially
when he's got a partner whom he knows will be there to bail him out of trouble."
"That's just it, Byers. I'm sick and tired of playing cavalry. I'm his partner,
not Damage Control. He should know better by now than to pull a crazy stunt like
this. Especially given how adamant he knows Skinner was about us staying away
from Andraven. If this backfires, and he doesn't get any irrefutably damning
evidence, then I don't think anything I say or do can help him. I don't think
even Skinner would be able to protect Mulder from this."
"That bad?"
"Andraven has some connections in the Bureau, if not the entire government. He'd
have Mulder's badge in a heartbeat. And, quite frankly, Mulder'd be getting off
easy if that was the only disciplinary action that's taken against him."
Byers could sense the anger and worry in her voice, but did not know what to say
or do to alleviate it. "Well, how about as soon as the boys get back, we do a
little snooping to see if we can try and locate Mulder?"
"Byers, I really appreciate your concern, but right now I'm not so sure that
this is the best--"
At the sound of her cell-phone ringing, Scully let the sentence go unfinished.
Fishing the phone from her pocket, she answered it. "Scully."
"You'll never guess what this pinhead did to the printer," Frohike muttered as
he returned to the room, cable in hand, with Langly hot on his trail.
"I'm telling you, Frohike, all it needs is a new toner cartridge and it'll work
fine." Langly paused as he caught sight of Scully. Scowling, her face had gone a
shade lighter. "What's with her?" he asked of Byers.
"I don't know. She just got a call."
"Hope it's not bad news," Frohike remarked.
The trio silently waited for the female agent to finish her conversation.
"Very well. . . . I'm on my way now." She disconnected, returning her phone to
her pocket. "I'm afraid this print out will have to wait, fellas," she told
them, hastily retrieving her coat.
"Something wrong?" Byers asked.
"I'm not sure," she replied, donning her coat. "All I know is that A.D. Skinner
wants to see me in his office immediately." She quickly headed for the door.
"Thanks for the help, guys. I'll be in touch."
End Chapter 5
*****
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: Through Season Five
Keywords: M/S UST
Summary: A man from Scully's past returns, asking for her and Mulder's help to
stop the development of a deadly biological weapon. But will the case bring
Mulder and Scully closer together, or tear them apart?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.
*****
"Not the Doctor"
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com
Chapter 5
I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine
Lend me some fresh air
I don't want to be adored for what I merely represent to you
"Look at that," said Scully, pointing to the computer screen.
She stiffened suddenly as she felt the warmth of his breath on her neck and the
gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder. She sighed softly at the unaccustomed
contact, but said nothing.
"Interesting," he said, moving closer so that he could get a better look at the
technical readout. As he moved his face closer to the screen to make out the
numbers, his hand slowly slid downward, to the small of her back.
An involuntary shiver ran up her spine.
"But I wonder why these peaks keep on descending," he remarked, tracing the
readout on the screen with the fingers of one hand even as those of his other
traced their own downward path.
As Scully realized that his hand was not stopping at her lower back, the shiver
of a moment earlier transformed into a sensation of disgust that made her skin
crawl. An instant before his fingers were about to squeeze her soft, round flesh
through her skirt, she spun around and grabbed his arm, pinning it behind his
back as she shoved him against the wall--hard. He grunted as she twisted his arm
in the socket and jammed his wrist into his back.
"Scully! What the hell are you doing?" he gasped.
"If you ever so much as touch me again, you sonuva--"
At that moment, two other men walked into the room. Seeing the petite redhead
restraining her would-be paramour, they immediately began to laugh.
"Geez, Frohike, can't we leave you unsupervised for more than two minutes?"
Langly asked, eyes twinkling behind his black-rimmed glasses.
"What did he do this time, Scully?" Byers asked. In utter contrast to the
dignified facade and impeccable manner presented by his conservative suit and
neatly-trimmed beard, a snortling chuckle of amusement escaped his lips.
"Your colleague here decided to let his fingers do some walking," Scully replied
through clenched teeth, her grip on Frohike's arm not yielding.
"Hey, it was just friendly little--yow!" he cried out as she twisted his arm
further. "Hey, that's my bowling arm."
"You've never bowled in your life, Frohike."
"You're not helping here, Byers."
"What, the minute Mulder's not around, you decide she's yours for the taking?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Langly realized he never should have
uttered them. Especially any mention of her absent partner's name.
Scully glared at the blonde man, eyes narrowing in contempt.
His blood turned cold, and he had to fight the instinct to place his hands over
his groin in protection.
"Nobody owns me," she spat, "and I do *not* need Mulder's protection."
Swallowing, Langly vigorously nodded his head in agreement.
"Frohike, promise her you'll behave so we can get down to business, will you?"
Byers asked, walking over to the computer.
"I promise, I promise. Uncle! Uncle!" the older man yelped.
"All right," Scully said, releasing him. "But just remember, Frohike, next time
you try anything it's not your *arm* I'm going after."
"Yes, Ma'am, Dr. Scully, ma'am," he muttered, rubbing his sore shoulder.
All right, so maybe he went a little too far this time. When Scully came to
them, she was obviously upset, and he had just wanted to offer her a little
comfort. Could he help it if his hand had a mind of its own? Sure, he was a
dirty old man--he was the first to admit it--but he was completely harmless, and
Scully knew that. She had never really seemed to mind his flirting before. She
would roll her eyes or sigh and pretend she never heard the comment. But this
morning, she reacted like he was some perp who tried to attack her. She was
definitely upset--and Scully usually concealed such emotion behind a cool
demeanor. Only one person he knew of could get under her skin that way.
As a more literal interpretation of the expression conjured all sorts of
lascivious pictures in his mind, a grin curled his lips. He immediately wiped it
from his face for fear that she would notice it and take another go at him. He
took his seat at the computer console and managed a surreptitious glance in her
direction. Though she no longer seemed ready to tear him limb from limb, she was
still noticeably distressed: Her brow was creased and her mouth was cast in an
angry scowl.
*Yep, she's definitely worried about you, Mulder. And if she was ready to make
me a eunuch for a friendly little pat, I'd hate to see what she does to you for
ditching her when she gets her hands on you, buddy.*
"Okay, so here's what we found regarding voice patterns from that audio tape you
gave us," Frohike said, keying up a new image on the computer screen.
As Frohike and Langly began to explain the significance of the readout, Byers
split his attention between listening to their words and watching Scully. She
stood staring at the screen, arms crossed, brow furrowed. He could tell,
however, that her mind was not completely on the case at hand. One did not have
to be Einstein to figure out what--or rather, whom--occupied her thoughts at the
moment.
"Can I get a print out of this?" Scully asked when they had finished their
report.
"Sure," Frohike replied, tapping away at the keyboard. "I'll have to send it to
the laser printer in the other room, since this one's on the fritz."
"Oh, I disconnected it yesterday morning when I was fixing it," Langly said.
"Well, then, let's go see about reconnecting it," Frohike said, getting up.
"C'mon, dude, you can give me a hand. We'll be right back with your print out,
Scully. Byers, keep the good doctor entertained, okay?" he said as he and Langly
left the room.
Scully silently walked across the room, stopping in front of the far wall to
stare at framed copies of _The Lone Gunman_ front pages. Wrapping her arms
around herself, she sighed.
"Agent Scully," Byers began cautiously, walking closer to her, "I know this is
none of my business, but if you'd like to talk about it. . . ."
Byers had been the one to call Mulder at work early that morning to tell him
that the evidence he and the other Gunmen had been analyzing had produced some
interesting results. Scully had picked up the office phone, sounding much more
frigid than normal. He told her that they had something she and Mulder would
probably want to check out.
"Well, *I'd* be happy to stop by and take a look," Scully had remarked. The
indignation in her voice had been unmistakable.
Byers had paused then, trying to decide what to make of her statement. "Is
Mulder not in yet?" he asked in a benign tone.
The line went suddenly quiet.
"Agent Scully? You still there?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, Byers." Another pause. "No, Mulder's not here."
"Oh." Byers hesitated. Luckily, Scully spoke again, ending the awkward silence.
"I- I'll be right over," she had finished hastily before disconnecting. She was
true to her word, and a short while later, she had arrived. While Byers and
Langly took care of some other unfinished business, Frohike had begun to brief
her on their findings.
"There's not much to talk about," Scully said now, her gaze still fixed on the
frames.
Byers paused, deciding whether to put himself out on a limb and pose the
inevitable question. "Did something happen between you and Mulder?" he asked
finally.
"Nothing happened between us," she replied. When she continued, her voice was
little more than a whisper. "And that's just the problem."
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Join the club," she remarked, her tone caustic.
Realizing there was definite trouble brewing, Byers decided to push her a little
to get to the bottom of the situation. Perhaps he could act as moderator and
patch things up between the estranged partners. "When was the last time you
spoke to him?"
"I haven't seen him since yesterday evening, when I left the office."
"Think he might just be sleeping in?"
"No." Scully cleared her throat before continuing. "He evidently decided to go
off on his own to do a little private investigating, but neglected to tell me
about it." Her statement was laced with an anger Byers had never heard in her
voice before. He kept silent, though, allowing her to continue.
"We were supposed to meet last night, but Mulder never showed." She paused, and
Byers could tell that there was more to the story than she was letting on. This
was more than a mere misunderstanding or a fight; something deeper had occurred.
"I tried calling him," she resumed, "but his machine was on, his cell was out of
service, and there was no answer at the office. At the time, I figured maybe he
got wrapped up in some work, and lost track of the time."
"But now . . . ?"
"But when I came into the office this morning, I saw that Mulder left his desk
in a state of disarray." She heard Byers chuckle. "As I'm sure you're aware, in
and of itself, that isn't unusual for Mulder. But aside from reports strewn
across his desk, his computer was still on--with an open file on the screen. I
checked the time it was last saved. It was at 6:03 P.M., about an hour after I
left. The thing is, Mulder never leaves without shutting his computer down.
That, and there were several lights on. I also noticed some blank sheets of
scrap paper scattered near the phone, along with an open pen."
"Sounds like he might have been jotting down a message. Did you try the ole
pencil trick?"
"I didn't bother; there were no writing imprints left on the other sheets. I
just got the overall impression that he left the office suddenly, as though in a
hurry."
"Did he leave you a note?"
"None that I could find. Have you guys heard from him recently?"
"No. We were all here last night, working on that cassette tape Mulder gave us.
We haven't spoken to him since he dropped it off day-before-yesterday. You don't
have any idea where he might be?"
"*Where*, no. *Why*, I think I have a pretty good idea."
"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like the answer?"
She sighed. "I'm sure he's told you about the Andraven case. . . ."
Byers made a derisive sound. "He's griped to all three of us, collectively and
separately, about that guy getting off. Not that I blame him, mind you. Last I
heard, though, you two were told to back off by your boss."
"That's right: A.D. Skinner pulled us off the case, and forbid Mulder or me from
going anywhere near Andraven or from investigating him in any official
capacity."
"But you think Mulder may have decided to take matters into his own hands, and
continued with the case anyway?"
"Yes. Typical Mulder to throw caution--and regulations--to the wind in order to
pursue a lead."
Byers nodded. "I don't think the danger aspect even occurs to him--especially
when he's got a partner whom he knows will be there to bail him out of trouble."
"That's just it, Byers. I'm sick and tired of playing cavalry. I'm his partner,
not Damage Control. He should know better by now than to pull a crazy stunt like
this. Especially given how adamant he knows Skinner was about us staying away
from Andraven. If this backfires, and he doesn't get any irrefutably damning
evidence, then I don't think anything I say or do can help him. I don't think
even Skinner would be able to protect Mulder from this."
"That bad?"
"Andraven has some connections in the Bureau, if not the entire government. He'd
have Mulder's badge in a heartbeat. And, quite frankly, Mulder'd be getting off
easy if that was the only disciplinary action that's taken against him."
Byers could sense the anger and worry in her voice, but did not know what to say
or do to alleviate it. "Well, how about as soon as the boys get back, we do a
little snooping to see if we can try and locate Mulder?"
"Byers, I really appreciate your concern, but right now I'm not so sure that
this is the best--"
At the sound of her cell-phone ringing, Scully let the sentence go unfinished.
Fishing the phone from her pocket, she answered it. "Scully."
"You'll never guess what this pinhead did to the printer," Frohike muttered as
he returned to the room, cable in hand, with Langly hot on his trail.
"I'm telling you, Frohike, all it needs is a new toner cartridge and it'll work
fine." Langly paused as he caught sight of Scully. Scowling, her face had gone a
shade lighter. "What's with her?" he asked of Byers.
"I don't know. She just got a call."
"Hope it's not bad news," Frohike remarked.
The trio silently waited for the female agent to finish her conversation.
"Very well. . . . I'm on my way now." She disconnected, returning her phone to
her pocket. "I'm afraid this print out will have to wait, fellas," she told
them, hastily retrieving her coat.
"Something wrong?" Byers asked.
"I'm not sure," she replied, donning her coat. "All I know is that A.D. Skinner
wants to see me in his office immediately." She quickly headed for the door.
"Thanks for the help, guys. I'll be in touch."
End Chapter 5
*****