Title: Blessed Union of Souls I: Not the Doctor 10/11
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 10
I don't want to be lived through
A vicarious occasion
Please open the window
Office Martinez made good use of her siren, which cut the trip down to about
seven minutes. For Scully, they were perhaps the longest seven minutes of her
life. During the ride, images flashed before her mind's eye of the other times
Mulder had been injured.
She remembered the Boggs case from their first year together, when Lucas Henry
shot Mulder in the leg. The look of shock and confusion on his face as he went
down, which quickly turned to pain. Her high-pitched cries of "Officer down!"
and her anxious calls for help as she covered him with her jacket to keep him
warm. The panic and dread when she realized the bullet had hit his femoral
artery, and it would only take a few minutes for him to bleed to death. How she
tried to keep her voice confident and reassuring as she felt his lifeblood seep
through her fingers as she desperately tried to slow the flow. Watching
helplessly from the sidelines as the ER doctors worked on him.
Then there was Alaska. How she burst into that ER, and saw her half-dead partner
in the hot water bath, and realized that the heat would cause the retro-virus he
had been infected with to kill him. How they no sooner got him out of the bath
and he flatlined. She may have sounded confident as she barked orders and
brought him back with the defibrillator, but the truth was she had never been so
frightened in all her life. Nor had she ever been so relieved as when his heart
started beating again. Over the next several days, she had kept a silent vigil
at his bedside, not leaving his side for hours at a time. She could still
remember the morning he woke. She had been clutching his arm, silently praying
that he would wake soon, when she felt the slightest movement. His eyes opened,
and she graced him with the brightest smile she could muster.
The other time he had been shot was at her own hand. At the time, it seemed the
only way to keep him from killing Krycek and clearing him of the murder charges
for his father's death. She treated him as best she could under the
circumstances, keeping him doped up while the hallucinogen left his system,
cleaning and dressing the wound while she drove him cross-country. Luckily, once
she explained her reasoning, Mulder did not hold a grudge. Although he did still
like to remind her about it from time to time--usually when he wanted to shame
her into doing something for him. What she wouldn't give to have him tease her
right now.
*Please, Lord, just let him be all right. He can marry Marita for all I care.
Just let him be okay.*
Martinez had barely brought the car to a stop outside of the ER when Scully
threw open the door and ran into the hospital. Cutting in front of several
people, she approached the triad nurse. "I'm looking for Special Agent Fox
Mulder. He was brought in here a short while ago with a gunshot wound."
"Excuse me, ma'am, but you'll have to wait your turn. I'm in the middle--"
"Unless you want me to haul your ass to jail, you'll tell me where the hell he
is," she growled.
"What seems to be the problem?" asked a security guard, approaching them.
"I'm a Federal Agent," Scully said, showing him her badge. "I'm looking for my
partner."
"The information line is right over there, ma'am," the guard replied. He took
her arm and pointed across the room. "Why don't you--"
"Fuck you!" Scully muttered, pulling out of his grasp and heading toward the
examination area. She was ready to search the room for Mulder one gurney at a
time.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked a middle-aged man in a lab coat as he
approached her.
"Was a federal agent admitted this evening with a gunshot wound?" she countered.
"As a matter of fact, yes. And you are?"
"His partner."
"Can I see some form of identification, please?"
"Oh, for Chrissakes . . . !" Scully muttered, pulling out her badge. "Is he all
right?"
"That I couldn't tell you. I wasn't the one to treat him."
"Then who did? Who knows where he is?" She felt the panic threatening to take
control. "Goddammit, where the hell is he?"
"If you'll calm down a minute, ma'am, I'll try to find out for you. Why don't
you go sit down in the waiting area and--"
Was she speaking a foreign language? What was so difficult to understand about
what she wanted to know? "I'm only going to ask one more time before I start
taking names: `WHERE--IS--HE?'!"
"What's going on, Mike?" asked a thirty-something woman in scrubs.
"Who worked on the gunshot wound that came in about a half hour ago, Eleanor?"
"I did."
"How is he?" Scully asked.
"Are you his wife?"
"Partner. Can you please tell me his status?"
"He was hit in the shoulder. It entered and exited cleanly, missed the scapula
completely. He suffered a bit of blood loss, but otherwise he's fine. He just
won't be throwing any fastballs for a while."
"Oh, thank God!" Scully sighed, her eyes sliding shut in relief as she clasped
her hands over her mouth. She took a moment to offer a silent prayer of thanks
before returning her attention to the female doctor. "Where is he? I'd like to
see him."
"He's resting in Room 3. Here, I'll show you the way," she said, leading Scully
across the room. "Just so you know, we gave him some painkillers, so he might
not be completely coherent. The detective who came in the ambulance is with him
now. Here we are," she said as they came to a small room on the side of the main
examination area.
"Thank you," Scully said. She reached for the curtain, but stopped in mid-motion
when she realized that her hand was shaking. Why was she nervous, she wondered.
Strange how she had been desperately searching for him for the past twenty-four
hours, and now that she knew exactly where he was, she hesitated before going to
see him.
*Get a grip, Dana. Don't fall apart now. You've got to give him hell for
ditching you, remember? That's it--deep breath. In and out. In and out. Okay,
here goes nothing.*
Squaring her shoulders, Scully pushed the curtain aside and walked into the
room. But nothing she could have done could have prepared her for the sight that
greeted her eyes.
I don't want to be the sweeper of the eggshells that you walk upon
I don't want to be your other half I believe that 1 and 1 make 2
I don't want to be your food or the light from the fridge on your face at
midnight
Hey what are you hungry for
Mulder sat on a gurney, his back propped up with some pillows. Aside from the
bandage on his right shoulder and the sling he wore, he seemed none the worse
for wear--and in good spirits, especially given the fact that he was grinning
broadly at the buxom raven-haired woman who was perched on the side of the
gurney. She sat not two feet in front of him, with her hand on Mulder's thigh.
She whispered something, and they both laughed.
They evidently had not heard Scully enter the room. Scully was immediately
reminded of the Gibson Praise case, when she had walked into the psychiatric
facility and found Mulder and Diana Fowley standing together, hands clasped,
heads bowed closely, as they spoke in soft, intimate tones. Like then, she felt
as though she had been kicked in the gut. She had a similar impulse to flee, to
turn right around and walk back out of the room. But she fought it with all the
willpower she could muster. She had worked too hard, she had gone to such great
lengths to find him. She was not going to turn back or walk away now.
Scully cleared her throat loudly. That seemed to do the trick, because Mulder
glanced up in her direction. He did a double take, as though unwilling to
believe his eyes. "Scully? What are you doing here?"
"Hello to you, too, Mulder," she replied coolly, walking towards him. "Glad to
know you're so happy to see me."
She stopped a few feet in front of the gurney and looked the other woman right
in the eyes. This woman was supposedly in a shoot out and fire? Not a hair was
out of place, her make-up was perfect, she looked fresh and well-rested. Scully,
on the other hand, was hot and sweaty. She had not slept in over thirty-six
hours, and was sure that she had dark circles under bloodshot eyes. Well, too
late to do anything about that.
"Dana Scully," she said, offering her hand. "You must be Detective Sabella."
"Toni," she replied, using her well-manicured hand to shake with a firm grip.
"So, you're Fox's partner?"
Scully stiffened. "Yes," she replied with a forced smile.
"He played quite the hero tonight--took a bullet and saved my life."
"So I've heard. How are you feeling, Mulder?" Scully asked him.
"Like I was shot in the shoulder. Guess now I'll have a matching scar to go with
the one you gave me, huh, Scully?"
Sabella looked from Mulder to Scully and back to Mulder, eyes widened in
surprise. "She shot you?"
Scully felt her cheeks grow warm.
"Well, she's also a doctor, so she made up for it by patching me up afterwards."
"Mmm hmm," Sabella said, folding her arms. "You probably deserved it."
"It's, ah, a long story," he mumbled. He noticed the cold look Scully was giving
him, and realized that he had better change the subject if he valued his
livelihood. "So, Scully, how'd you find me?"
Steee-rike two!
"Well, you sure as hell didn't make it easy for me, Mulder. Ditching me yet
again and flying off to New York without so much as a `See ya later'. No phone
call, no message, no nothing."
"I was working against the clock--"
"Don't bother, Mulder. Marita explained about giving you the information on the
research going on in the abandoned Rausch building."
Mulder looked taken aback. "You spoke to Marita?"
"I stopped by her place before heading over to the Rausch building."
"How did you know to see her?"
"I checked the phone records to your cell and our office phone. Hers was the
last incoming call you received last night. Not hard to figure out what the
phone call must have been about."
Sabella whistled. "Jesus, Fox, if she's that good an investigator, you should
have clued her in. You ever get tired of the Bureau, Scully, my unit'd love to
have you aboard."
Scully gave Mulder her best "I-told-you-so" look as she crossed her arms. "Why
the hell didn't you tell me where you were going, Mulder? Bad enough you stood
me up that night, but I'm your goddamned partner. The Andraven investigation was
*our* case. I had just as much right to be let in on this information as you."
Mulder glanced over at Sabella. "Toni, would you excuse us, please?"
"Sure, no problem. I should go check in with Doug anyway. Thanks for everything,
Fox. Take it easy," she said, giving his good hand a squeeze and bending to
place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Nice to meet you, Scully."
Mulder watched her leave, his gaze lingering several long moments.
Noticing how easily he became distracted, Scully felt her anger rise. "Well,
Mulder?" she asked impatiently, arms crossed across her chest.
He finally turned his attention back to his partner. "Scully, they were getting
ready to abandon the lab and destroy evidence."
"A phone call takes less than a minute, Mulder."
"But I couldn't call you, Scully. I'm pretty sure that Andraven has had us under
surveillance ever since the hearing. Since we've been breathing down his back, I
think he's been keeping a close watch on us so that he could be alerted if we
decided to make a move against him. So, not only was time of the essence, but I
also didn't want to alert Andraven that I knew about the Rausch facilities."
"I don't think there's much Andraven could have done about it anyway, Mulder."
"Don't underestimate his influence, Scully. He--"
"He's dead, Mulder."
He stared at her, nonplused. "What?"
"He was murdered last night."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Oh, if you think that's good, it gets better. *You're* the prime suspect."
"Me? You're kidding, right?"
"Do I look like I'm in a joking mood? This afternoon, Skinner called me into his
office. The police wanted to question me, but he did a pretty good job of that
on his own. They think I might be an accessory. I was advised to notify them
immediately if I heard from you. If I didn't cooperate fully, not only would it
be my badge, but criminal charges as well."
"But you came looking for me anyway?"
"What did you expect me to do, Mulder? After all these years, I at least still
feel fidelity toward our partnership, our friendship." *Do you still feel the
same?* she wondered, unable to give voice to her fears.
Mulder did not seem to pick up on her unasked question. "What kind of evidence
do they have?"
"Your gun as the murder weapon, for starters."
"I had a little run-in with a perp on the way to the airport. I didn't have time
report my weapon as lost. I decided to make due with the gun in my ankle
holster."
"Would you care to elaborate on this little run-in?"
"I'd rather not go into it," he muttered, obviously wanting to side-step the
topic. "What else do they have as evidence?"
"A security tape of Andraven's office, showing you and him engaged in a heated
argument the night he died."
"That's bullshit, Scully. I wasn't there last night. I haven't gone near the
bastard in well over a week."
"I know, Mulder. I had the Gunmen check out the tape. It was doctored."
"They let you bring the Gunmen a copy of the tape when you're accused of being
an accessory to murder?"
"Well, they didn't exactly *let* me," she replied sheepishly.
His eyes widened as the corners of his mouth raised in a smirk. "Why, Scully, do
you mean to tell me that you commandeered the tape?"
"Just a copy of it. And if Skinner ever finds out, it'll be my ass. So, where
the hell were you between eight and ten last night?"
"Eight and ten," he repeated, looking up at the ceiling as he searched his
memory. "Well, after my plane got in about 7:30, I took a cab over to Marita's
apartment. I stayed about an hour so that she could show me some blueprints of
the Rausch building. I decided to go check out the building for myself. That's
when I ran into Sabella and her partner, Berger. They knew something was up
inside, but they thought it had to do with drugs. I told them what I suspected.
We decided to work together, and we staked out the place. Tonight was our
deadline, so we decided to go in and have a little look-see for ourselves."
"Did you find anything?"
"Toni and I split from Doug, and we managed to get into the lab. But someone was
waiting for us. He shot at us, pinned us down in the corner. Then he set the
room on fire. We were able to get out of the room, and I pocketed some vials on
the way out for evidence. But when Toni opened the doorway to the stairwell, I
caught sight of a shadow moving. I pushed her out of the way, but before I could
get clear, I got hit in the shoulder. Unfortunately, I fell on the vials, and
they were smashed."
"We can still check your pocket for trace evidence--"
"Good luck finding it. They cut it off of me in the ambulance. That was my
favorite jacket, too. I paid a pretty penny for that suit."
Scully rolled her eyes. "So, in other words, you've got nothing to show for this
little escapade."
"Well, a gunshot wound and accusation of murder is a pretty decent
accomplishment, wouldn't you say?"
"Is this all some big game to you, Mulder? A joke? Because I, for one, am not
laughing. You've got enough on your plate right now to get us both suspended--or
worse. If you want to get yourself fired, or jailed for murder, that's your
business. But I'll be damned if you're going to drag me along with you. My
career is important to me, Mulder. It's been an uphill battle for me--first, as
a woman in a male-dominated profession, and then being assigned to the X-Files,
trying to legitimize work that almost no one treats seriously."
"Are you saying that you don't consider what we do real work? If that's the
case, then why the hell have you stayed on these past six years?"
"Of course it's real work. You know that, I know that, even Skinner knows that.
But precious few others do. Which means that when we screw up, it looks that
much worse."
"Since when do you care what other people think of you, Scully? It's never
bothered you before. Or are you getting tired of being Mrs. Spooky?"
"Stop twisting everything around, Mulder. As much as we like to tell ourselves
otherwise, it does matter what other people think. Our superiors have to believe
that what we're doing is important, that we're making a vital contribution to
the Bureau. Because if they don't, then the X-Files are history. And without the
X-Files, without the acknowledgment that we are working on legitimate cases,
what the hell do we have to show for the past six years? I want--I *need*--for
it to mean something, Mulder. I've worked too hard, I've sacrificed too much, to
flush it all down the toilet on account of your wanting a quickie with that
vacuous blonde floosy and then deciding to hook up with Detective Seductive when
the opportunity presents itself."
He stared at her incredulously. Where the hell had that come from? One moment,
she was raising hell that he was ruining her career, and the next she was
accusing him of being more concerned with getting some than with the case? Did
those words really come out of Dana Scully's mouth?
Never in all the years they had worked together had she ever voiced an objection
to his involvement with another woman. And he could count such encounters on the
fingers of one hand: Scully had been wary of Phoebe--but that uneasiness proved
quite justified. She had not particularly cared for Detective White, but then
neither of them were really acting rational during the case in Comity. And while
she had seemed a little bothered by his interest in Dr. Bambi, she never really
said anything explicitly--especially given the fact that nothing had come of it.
There was nothing with Diana Fowley to begin with, but even so Scully had
behaved with the utmost professional courtesy.
So why was she now accusing him of going to New York under false pretenses? Sure
he had flirted a bit with Toni. So what? She was an attractive woman, and she
had been warm and friendly toward him from the start. Any red-blooded
heterosexual male would have been warm and friendly right back. Where was the
harm in that? Maybe subconsciously the part of him that always enjoyed flirting
with her was even trying to make up for the fact that Scully could not be here
with him.
Still, that did not explain where the bloody hell Scully had gotten the idea
that he was interested in Marita. That was just plain crazy. And he intended to
tell her just that.
"Scully, there's nothing going on between Marita and me."
She *harumphed*. "Mulder, I have eyes. I'm not that dense."
"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You're the Oxford-educated psychologist--you figure it out. I'd just be careful
if I were you. Because I wouldn't trust her anymore than I would Krycek."
"What are you talking about?"
"You give her the opportunity, she'll stab you in the back, Mulder."
"On what do you base that conclusion?"
"It just seems a little too convenient to me that she happened to contact you
with information about Andraven on the same night that he was murdered. I think
she was deliberately trying to get you out of town by sending you on this wild
goose chase. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she were in on the whole thing.
She probably set you up."
"That's crazy, Scully."
"Is it? Then how is it that you contacted her weeks ago, and she only got back
to you last night?"
"She had been out of town. And she only recently came by the information."
"Andraven bought the Rausch building months ago. The cops have been
investigating it for weeks. This is old news."
"Jesus, Scully, you're being more paranoid than me."
"Well, at least I'm able to see the forest for the trees. Marita's got the bed
sheets pulled up way over your eyes."
"What the hell are you implying, Scully?"
"It's dangerous to mix business with pleasure, Mulder. You're likely to get
careless. And that can leave you dead."
A sudden intake of breath as realization dawned. "You're jealous."
"What? Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."
"Yeah, you are. You're jealous of Marita. You think I'm sleeping with her, don't
you? What, you're afraid she's screwing me for information? Or is that the other
way around?"
"You never put out for Deep Throat or X. Why start now?"
"They weren't my type," he quipped. "For Christ's sake, Scully, what's gotten
into you?"
"Oh, I don't know. My partner's accused of murder, and I'm accused of being an
accessory. I've got the cops and Skinner breathing down my back. I was ditched
yet again, and left to take all of the heat. Meanwhile, you're off cavorting
with an informant I know absolutely nothing about. You never hid the existence
of Deep Throat or X from me. I met them both myself. Why the hell didn't you
tell me about her, Mulder? Afraid I'd put two and two together?"
"Scully, I have no idea what put this insane notion in your head, but I'm not
sleeping with Marita." Enough was enough. He did not like having to explain
himself, and he sure as hell did not like being put on the defensive. "And even
if I were, it's none of your goddamned business. What I do on my own time is
none of your concern."
"It sure as hell is when it affects my career and my life. Do you even realize
how serious this accusation is, Mulder--for both of us? For God's sake, we could
lose everything. Or do you not even give a--"
The shrill ringing of her cell-phone cut her off mid-sentence. Her momentum
gone, and her train of thought interrupted, Scully reached into her pocket for
her phone. "Scully," she snapped, her tone irate.
"Agent Scully, this is Assistant Director Skinner. I realize the hour is late,
but there was no answer at your apartment."
"I'm out of town, sir."
"Working on a case?"
She hesitated for the briefest of moments. "Uhm, yeah." She sighed. "What can I
do for you?"
"A package was just delivered to my home. It contained a video tape. It seems to
be a copy of the security tape from Peter Andraven's office the night he died.
There is also a print out of the weather report from that night, along with a
blown-up image of some sort of glass bottle."
"A barometer, sir."
"Excuse me?"
"The bottle--it's a barometer. And the low pressure it indicates does not match
the weather conditions on the night Andraven died."
"So you're saying the tape is not accurate?"
"That is correct, sir. I believe it to have been doctored."
"You realize I should be questioning you as to how you know so much about this,
don't you? But I don't think I even want to know how it is that you're aware of
this, Agent Scully."
"No, probably not."
"Where are you, Scully?"
"In New York City."
"I don't suppose you've heard from Agent Mulder?"
"As a matter of fact, I've managed to locate him."
"What? Where is he?"
"Sitting right here next to me in St. Vincent's hospital."
"Are you all right? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, sir. Physically, anyway. Agent Mulder sustained a gunshot wound to
the shoulder, but otherwise he's alive and well."
"And just how did you happen to find him?"
"It was the funniest thing. I was in a taxi, when the street we were driving on
was blocked off by the police. I got out to see what was happening, and learned
that a federal agent had been injured during a shoot out in a building that had
been set on fire."
"In other words, it had `Mulder' written all over it."
She had to suppress a smile at that. "In a matter of speaking, yes."
"Does he know about Andraven?"
"Yes, I've filled him in. It turns out he has an alibi. Some NYPD detectives can
vouch for him."
"That's good news. All the same, he should get back to DC ASAP, speak to the
local cops and make a statement. The sooner we can clear up his involvement, the
better."
"We can catch a red-eye, and be back in the next few hours."
"You sound exhausted, Scully. Why don't you get some sleep first. You can take a
later flight, and speak to the police tomorrow morning."
"I'd just assume get back today, sir, and get this taken care of immediately.
The sooner this whole ordeal is over with the better."
"All right. Why don't you give me a call when you know what time your flight
will be arriving. I'll call the captain, explain the situation to him, and
arrange for some officers to stop by Mulder's apartment to take a statement."
"Thank you, sir. I'll speak to you later." She disconnected and returned the
phone to her coat pocket.
"That Skinner?"
She nodded.
"Scully, I--"
"Not now, Mulder. I don't want to talk about this anymore right now. I'm going
to see about getting you released. Then we're going to fly back to DC and get
this all straightened out with the cops so that I can wash my hands of this
whole sordid mess." That said, she walked out of the room to find a nurse and
get his release papers processed.
End Chapter 10
*****
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 10
I don't want to be lived through
A vicarious occasion
Please open the window
Office Martinez made good use of her siren, which cut the trip down to about
seven minutes. For Scully, they were perhaps the longest seven minutes of her
life. During the ride, images flashed before her mind's eye of the other times
Mulder had been injured.
She remembered the Boggs case from their first year together, when Lucas Henry
shot Mulder in the leg. The look of shock and confusion on his face as he went
down, which quickly turned to pain. Her high-pitched cries of "Officer down!"
and her anxious calls for help as she covered him with her jacket to keep him
warm. The panic and dread when she realized the bullet had hit his femoral
artery, and it would only take a few minutes for him to bleed to death. How she
tried to keep her voice confident and reassuring as she felt his lifeblood seep
through her fingers as she desperately tried to slow the flow. Watching
helplessly from the sidelines as the ER doctors worked on him.
Then there was Alaska. How she burst into that ER, and saw her half-dead partner
in the hot water bath, and realized that the heat would cause the retro-virus he
had been infected with to kill him. How they no sooner got him out of the bath
and he flatlined. She may have sounded confident as she barked orders and
brought him back with the defibrillator, but the truth was she had never been so
frightened in all her life. Nor had she ever been so relieved as when his heart
started beating again. Over the next several days, she had kept a silent vigil
at his bedside, not leaving his side for hours at a time. She could still
remember the morning he woke. She had been clutching his arm, silently praying
that he would wake soon, when she felt the slightest movement. His eyes opened,
and she graced him with the brightest smile she could muster.
The other time he had been shot was at her own hand. At the time, it seemed the
only way to keep him from killing Krycek and clearing him of the murder charges
for his father's death. She treated him as best she could under the
circumstances, keeping him doped up while the hallucinogen left his system,
cleaning and dressing the wound while she drove him cross-country. Luckily, once
she explained her reasoning, Mulder did not hold a grudge. Although he did still
like to remind her about it from time to time--usually when he wanted to shame
her into doing something for him. What she wouldn't give to have him tease her
right now.
*Please, Lord, just let him be all right. He can marry Marita for all I care.
Just let him be okay.*
Martinez had barely brought the car to a stop outside of the ER when Scully
threw open the door and ran into the hospital. Cutting in front of several
people, she approached the triad nurse. "I'm looking for Special Agent Fox
Mulder. He was brought in here a short while ago with a gunshot wound."
"Excuse me, ma'am, but you'll have to wait your turn. I'm in the middle--"
"Unless you want me to haul your ass to jail, you'll tell me where the hell he
is," she growled.
"What seems to be the problem?" asked a security guard, approaching them.
"I'm a Federal Agent," Scully said, showing him her badge. "I'm looking for my
partner."
"The information line is right over there, ma'am," the guard replied. He took
her arm and pointed across the room. "Why don't you--"
"Fuck you!" Scully muttered, pulling out of his grasp and heading toward the
examination area. She was ready to search the room for Mulder one gurney at a
time.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked a middle-aged man in a lab coat as he
approached her.
"Was a federal agent admitted this evening with a gunshot wound?" she countered.
"As a matter of fact, yes. And you are?"
"His partner."
"Can I see some form of identification, please?"
"Oh, for Chrissakes . . . !" Scully muttered, pulling out her badge. "Is he all
right?"
"That I couldn't tell you. I wasn't the one to treat him."
"Then who did? Who knows where he is?" She felt the panic threatening to take
control. "Goddammit, where the hell is he?"
"If you'll calm down a minute, ma'am, I'll try to find out for you. Why don't
you go sit down in the waiting area and--"
Was she speaking a foreign language? What was so difficult to understand about
what she wanted to know? "I'm only going to ask one more time before I start
taking names: `WHERE--IS--HE?'!"
"What's going on, Mike?" asked a thirty-something woman in scrubs.
"Who worked on the gunshot wound that came in about a half hour ago, Eleanor?"
"I did."
"How is he?" Scully asked.
"Are you his wife?"
"Partner. Can you please tell me his status?"
"He was hit in the shoulder. It entered and exited cleanly, missed the scapula
completely. He suffered a bit of blood loss, but otherwise he's fine. He just
won't be throwing any fastballs for a while."
"Oh, thank God!" Scully sighed, her eyes sliding shut in relief as she clasped
her hands over her mouth. She took a moment to offer a silent prayer of thanks
before returning her attention to the female doctor. "Where is he? I'd like to
see him."
"He's resting in Room 3. Here, I'll show you the way," she said, leading Scully
across the room. "Just so you know, we gave him some painkillers, so he might
not be completely coherent. The detective who came in the ambulance is with him
now. Here we are," she said as they came to a small room on the side of the main
examination area.
"Thank you," Scully said. She reached for the curtain, but stopped in mid-motion
when she realized that her hand was shaking. Why was she nervous, she wondered.
Strange how she had been desperately searching for him for the past twenty-four
hours, and now that she knew exactly where he was, she hesitated before going to
see him.
*Get a grip, Dana. Don't fall apart now. You've got to give him hell for
ditching you, remember? That's it--deep breath. In and out. In and out. Okay,
here goes nothing.*
Squaring her shoulders, Scully pushed the curtain aside and walked into the
room. But nothing she could have done could have prepared her for the sight that
greeted her eyes.
I don't want to be the sweeper of the eggshells that you walk upon
I don't want to be your other half I believe that 1 and 1 make 2
I don't want to be your food or the light from the fridge on your face at
midnight
Hey what are you hungry for
Mulder sat on a gurney, his back propped up with some pillows. Aside from the
bandage on his right shoulder and the sling he wore, he seemed none the worse
for wear--and in good spirits, especially given the fact that he was grinning
broadly at the buxom raven-haired woman who was perched on the side of the
gurney. She sat not two feet in front of him, with her hand on Mulder's thigh.
She whispered something, and they both laughed.
They evidently had not heard Scully enter the room. Scully was immediately
reminded of the Gibson Praise case, when she had walked into the psychiatric
facility and found Mulder and Diana Fowley standing together, hands clasped,
heads bowed closely, as they spoke in soft, intimate tones. Like then, she felt
as though she had been kicked in the gut. She had a similar impulse to flee, to
turn right around and walk back out of the room. But she fought it with all the
willpower she could muster. She had worked too hard, she had gone to such great
lengths to find him. She was not going to turn back or walk away now.
Scully cleared her throat loudly. That seemed to do the trick, because Mulder
glanced up in her direction. He did a double take, as though unwilling to
believe his eyes. "Scully? What are you doing here?"
"Hello to you, too, Mulder," she replied coolly, walking towards him. "Glad to
know you're so happy to see me."
She stopped a few feet in front of the gurney and looked the other woman right
in the eyes. This woman was supposedly in a shoot out and fire? Not a hair was
out of place, her make-up was perfect, she looked fresh and well-rested. Scully,
on the other hand, was hot and sweaty. She had not slept in over thirty-six
hours, and was sure that she had dark circles under bloodshot eyes. Well, too
late to do anything about that.
"Dana Scully," she said, offering her hand. "You must be Detective Sabella."
"Toni," she replied, using her well-manicured hand to shake with a firm grip.
"So, you're Fox's partner?"
Scully stiffened. "Yes," she replied with a forced smile.
"He played quite the hero tonight--took a bullet and saved my life."
"So I've heard. How are you feeling, Mulder?" Scully asked him.
"Like I was shot in the shoulder. Guess now I'll have a matching scar to go with
the one you gave me, huh, Scully?"
Sabella looked from Mulder to Scully and back to Mulder, eyes widened in
surprise. "She shot you?"
Scully felt her cheeks grow warm.
"Well, she's also a doctor, so she made up for it by patching me up afterwards."
"Mmm hmm," Sabella said, folding her arms. "You probably deserved it."
"It's, ah, a long story," he mumbled. He noticed the cold look Scully was giving
him, and realized that he had better change the subject if he valued his
livelihood. "So, Scully, how'd you find me?"
Steee-rike two!
"Well, you sure as hell didn't make it easy for me, Mulder. Ditching me yet
again and flying off to New York without so much as a `See ya later'. No phone
call, no message, no nothing."
"I was working against the clock--"
"Don't bother, Mulder. Marita explained about giving you the information on the
research going on in the abandoned Rausch building."
Mulder looked taken aback. "You spoke to Marita?"
"I stopped by her place before heading over to the Rausch building."
"How did you know to see her?"
"I checked the phone records to your cell and our office phone. Hers was the
last incoming call you received last night. Not hard to figure out what the
phone call must have been about."
Sabella whistled. "Jesus, Fox, if she's that good an investigator, you should
have clued her in. You ever get tired of the Bureau, Scully, my unit'd love to
have you aboard."
Scully gave Mulder her best "I-told-you-so" look as she crossed her arms. "Why
the hell didn't you tell me where you were going, Mulder? Bad enough you stood
me up that night, but I'm your goddamned partner. The Andraven investigation was
*our* case. I had just as much right to be let in on this information as you."
Mulder glanced over at Sabella. "Toni, would you excuse us, please?"
"Sure, no problem. I should go check in with Doug anyway. Thanks for everything,
Fox. Take it easy," she said, giving his good hand a squeeze and bending to
place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Nice to meet you, Scully."
Mulder watched her leave, his gaze lingering several long moments.
Noticing how easily he became distracted, Scully felt her anger rise. "Well,
Mulder?" she asked impatiently, arms crossed across her chest.
He finally turned his attention back to his partner. "Scully, they were getting
ready to abandon the lab and destroy evidence."
"A phone call takes less than a minute, Mulder."
"But I couldn't call you, Scully. I'm pretty sure that Andraven has had us under
surveillance ever since the hearing. Since we've been breathing down his back, I
think he's been keeping a close watch on us so that he could be alerted if we
decided to make a move against him. So, not only was time of the essence, but I
also didn't want to alert Andraven that I knew about the Rausch facilities."
"I don't think there's much Andraven could have done about it anyway, Mulder."
"Don't underestimate his influence, Scully. He--"
"He's dead, Mulder."
He stared at her, nonplused. "What?"
"He was murdered last night."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Oh, if you think that's good, it gets better. *You're* the prime suspect."
"Me? You're kidding, right?"
"Do I look like I'm in a joking mood? This afternoon, Skinner called me into his
office. The police wanted to question me, but he did a pretty good job of that
on his own. They think I might be an accessory. I was advised to notify them
immediately if I heard from you. If I didn't cooperate fully, not only would it
be my badge, but criminal charges as well."
"But you came looking for me anyway?"
"What did you expect me to do, Mulder? After all these years, I at least still
feel fidelity toward our partnership, our friendship." *Do you still feel the
same?* she wondered, unable to give voice to her fears.
Mulder did not seem to pick up on her unasked question. "What kind of evidence
do they have?"
"Your gun as the murder weapon, for starters."
"I had a little run-in with a perp on the way to the airport. I didn't have time
report my weapon as lost. I decided to make due with the gun in my ankle
holster."
"Would you care to elaborate on this little run-in?"
"I'd rather not go into it," he muttered, obviously wanting to side-step the
topic. "What else do they have as evidence?"
"A security tape of Andraven's office, showing you and him engaged in a heated
argument the night he died."
"That's bullshit, Scully. I wasn't there last night. I haven't gone near the
bastard in well over a week."
"I know, Mulder. I had the Gunmen check out the tape. It was doctored."
"They let you bring the Gunmen a copy of the tape when you're accused of being
an accessory to murder?"
"Well, they didn't exactly *let* me," she replied sheepishly.
His eyes widened as the corners of his mouth raised in a smirk. "Why, Scully, do
you mean to tell me that you commandeered the tape?"
"Just a copy of it. And if Skinner ever finds out, it'll be my ass. So, where
the hell were you between eight and ten last night?"
"Eight and ten," he repeated, looking up at the ceiling as he searched his
memory. "Well, after my plane got in about 7:30, I took a cab over to Marita's
apartment. I stayed about an hour so that she could show me some blueprints of
the Rausch building. I decided to go check out the building for myself. That's
when I ran into Sabella and her partner, Berger. They knew something was up
inside, but they thought it had to do with drugs. I told them what I suspected.
We decided to work together, and we staked out the place. Tonight was our
deadline, so we decided to go in and have a little look-see for ourselves."
"Did you find anything?"
"Toni and I split from Doug, and we managed to get into the lab. But someone was
waiting for us. He shot at us, pinned us down in the corner. Then he set the
room on fire. We were able to get out of the room, and I pocketed some vials on
the way out for evidence. But when Toni opened the doorway to the stairwell, I
caught sight of a shadow moving. I pushed her out of the way, but before I could
get clear, I got hit in the shoulder. Unfortunately, I fell on the vials, and
they were smashed."
"We can still check your pocket for trace evidence--"
"Good luck finding it. They cut it off of me in the ambulance. That was my
favorite jacket, too. I paid a pretty penny for that suit."
Scully rolled her eyes. "So, in other words, you've got nothing to show for this
little escapade."
"Well, a gunshot wound and accusation of murder is a pretty decent
accomplishment, wouldn't you say?"
"Is this all some big game to you, Mulder? A joke? Because I, for one, am not
laughing. You've got enough on your plate right now to get us both suspended--or
worse. If you want to get yourself fired, or jailed for murder, that's your
business. But I'll be damned if you're going to drag me along with you. My
career is important to me, Mulder. It's been an uphill battle for me--first, as
a woman in a male-dominated profession, and then being assigned to the X-Files,
trying to legitimize work that almost no one treats seriously."
"Are you saying that you don't consider what we do real work? If that's the
case, then why the hell have you stayed on these past six years?"
"Of course it's real work. You know that, I know that, even Skinner knows that.
But precious few others do. Which means that when we screw up, it looks that
much worse."
"Since when do you care what other people think of you, Scully? It's never
bothered you before. Or are you getting tired of being Mrs. Spooky?"
"Stop twisting everything around, Mulder. As much as we like to tell ourselves
otherwise, it does matter what other people think. Our superiors have to believe
that what we're doing is important, that we're making a vital contribution to
the Bureau. Because if they don't, then the X-Files are history. And without the
X-Files, without the acknowledgment that we are working on legitimate cases,
what the hell do we have to show for the past six years? I want--I *need*--for
it to mean something, Mulder. I've worked too hard, I've sacrificed too much, to
flush it all down the toilet on account of your wanting a quickie with that
vacuous blonde floosy and then deciding to hook up with Detective Seductive when
the opportunity presents itself."
He stared at her incredulously. Where the hell had that come from? One moment,
she was raising hell that he was ruining her career, and the next she was
accusing him of being more concerned with getting some than with the case? Did
those words really come out of Dana Scully's mouth?
Never in all the years they had worked together had she ever voiced an objection
to his involvement with another woman. And he could count such encounters on the
fingers of one hand: Scully had been wary of Phoebe--but that uneasiness proved
quite justified. She had not particularly cared for Detective White, but then
neither of them were really acting rational during the case in Comity. And while
she had seemed a little bothered by his interest in Dr. Bambi, she never really
said anything explicitly--especially given the fact that nothing had come of it.
There was nothing with Diana Fowley to begin with, but even so Scully had
behaved with the utmost professional courtesy.
So why was she now accusing him of going to New York under false pretenses? Sure
he had flirted a bit with Toni. So what? She was an attractive woman, and she
had been warm and friendly toward him from the start. Any red-blooded
heterosexual male would have been warm and friendly right back. Where was the
harm in that? Maybe subconsciously the part of him that always enjoyed flirting
with her was even trying to make up for the fact that Scully could not be here
with him.
Still, that did not explain where the bloody hell Scully had gotten the idea
that he was interested in Marita. That was just plain crazy. And he intended to
tell her just that.
"Scully, there's nothing going on between Marita and me."
She *harumphed*. "Mulder, I have eyes. I'm not that dense."
"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You're the Oxford-educated psychologist--you figure it out. I'd just be careful
if I were you. Because I wouldn't trust her anymore than I would Krycek."
"What are you talking about?"
"You give her the opportunity, she'll stab you in the back, Mulder."
"On what do you base that conclusion?"
"It just seems a little too convenient to me that she happened to contact you
with information about Andraven on the same night that he was murdered. I think
she was deliberately trying to get you out of town by sending you on this wild
goose chase. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she were in on the whole thing.
She probably set you up."
"That's crazy, Scully."
"Is it? Then how is it that you contacted her weeks ago, and she only got back
to you last night?"
"She had been out of town. And she only recently came by the information."
"Andraven bought the Rausch building months ago. The cops have been
investigating it for weeks. This is old news."
"Jesus, Scully, you're being more paranoid than me."
"Well, at least I'm able to see the forest for the trees. Marita's got the bed
sheets pulled up way over your eyes."
"What the hell are you implying, Scully?"
"It's dangerous to mix business with pleasure, Mulder. You're likely to get
careless. And that can leave you dead."
A sudden intake of breath as realization dawned. "You're jealous."
"What? Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."
"Yeah, you are. You're jealous of Marita. You think I'm sleeping with her, don't
you? What, you're afraid she's screwing me for information? Or is that the other
way around?"
"You never put out for Deep Throat or X. Why start now?"
"They weren't my type," he quipped. "For Christ's sake, Scully, what's gotten
into you?"
"Oh, I don't know. My partner's accused of murder, and I'm accused of being an
accessory. I've got the cops and Skinner breathing down my back. I was ditched
yet again, and left to take all of the heat. Meanwhile, you're off cavorting
with an informant I know absolutely nothing about. You never hid the existence
of Deep Throat or X from me. I met them both myself. Why the hell didn't you
tell me about her, Mulder? Afraid I'd put two and two together?"
"Scully, I have no idea what put this insane notion in your head, but I'm not
sleeping with Marita." Enough was enough. He did not like having to explain
himself, and he sure as hell did not like being put on the defensive. "And even
if I were, it's none of your goddamned business. What I do on my own time is
none of your concern."
"It sure as hell is when it affects my career and my life. Do you even realize
how serious this accusation is, Mulder--for both of us? For God's sake, we could
lose everything. Or do you not even give a--"
The shrill ringing of her cell-phone cut her off mid-sentence. Her momentum
gone, and her train of thought interrupted, Scully reached into her pocket for
her phone. "Scully," she snapped, her tone irate.
"Agent Scully, this is Assistant Director Skinner. I realize the hour is late,
but there was no answer at your apartment."
"I'm out of town, sir."
"Working on a case?"
She hesitated for the briefest of moments. "Uhm, yeah." She sighed. "What can I
do for you?"
"A package was just delivered to my home. It contained a video tape. It seems to
be a copy of the security tape from Peter Andraven's office the night he died.
There is also a print out of the weather report from that night, along with a
blown-up image of some sort of glass bottle."
"A barometer, sir."
"Excuse me?"
"The bottle--it's a barometer. And the low pressure it indicates does not match
the weather conditions on the night Andraven died."
"So you're saying the tape is not accurate?"
"That is correct, sir. I believe it to have been doctored."
"You realize I should be questioning you as to how you know so much about this,
don't you? But I don't think I even want to know how it is that you're aware of
this, Agent Scully."
"No, probably not."
"Where are you, Scully?"
"In New York City."
"I don't suppose you've heard from Agent Mulder?"
"As a matter of fact, I've managed to locate him."
"What? Where is he?"
"Sitting right here next to me in St. Vincent's hospital."
"Are you all right? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, sir. Physically, anyway. Agent Mulder sustained a gunshot wound to
the shoulder, but otherwise he's alive and well."
"And just how did you happen to find him?"
"It was the funniest thing. I was in a taxi, when the street we were driving on
was blocked off by the police. I got out to see what was happening, and learned
that a federal agent had been injured during a shoot out in a building that had
been set on fire."
"In other words, it had `Mulder' written all over it."
She had to suppress a smile at that. "In a matter of speaking, yes."
"Does he know about Andraven?"
"Yes, I've filled him in. It turns out he has an alibi. Some NYPD detectives can
vouch for him."
"That's good news. All the same, he should get back to DC ASAP, speak to the
local cops and make a statement. The sooner we can clear up his involvement, the
better."
"We can catch a red-eye, and be back in the next few hours."
"You sound exhausted, Scully. Why don't you get some sleep first. You can take a
later flight, and speak to the police tomorrow morning."
"I'd just assume get back today, sir, and get this taken care of immediately.
The sooner this whole ordeal is over with the better."
"All right. Why don't you give me a call when you know what time your flight
will be arriving. I'll call the captain, explain the situation to him, and
arrange for some officers to stop by Mulder's apartment to take a statement."
"Thank you, sir. I'll speak to you later." She disconnected and returned the
phone to her coat pocket.
"That Skinner?"
She nodded.
"Scully, I--"
"Not now, Mulder. I don't want to talk about this anymore right now. I'm going
to see about getting you released. Then we're going to fly back to DC and get
this all straightened out with the cops so that I can wash my hands of this
whole sordid mess." That said, she walked out of the room to find a nurse and
get his release papers processed.
End Chapter 10
*****