Author's note: I present you with my first XF fic. *bites nails* I was never a part of the fandom despite being a fan of the show. I've been recently reading a fair amount of XF fic, and got pulled into its fanficcy corner. Nonetheless, my grasp of the fanon and other inside stuff is still tenuous. If anything about this fic seems odd, that's why. Suppose you could say I'm the alien in this fandom. ;)

I originally posted this only on AO3, but when a few people there read it, I gathered enough courage to do so here as well. It's also unbeta'd (I don't have a beta); apologies for everything that makes a story harder to read.

Takes place between the Pilot and Deep Throat. Although this is gen, there are definite shippy undertones. I don't think there's much we got to know about Ellen, so I filled in some blanks.


A Saturday afternoon off was probably one of the last remnants of Dana Scully's 9-to-5 life. It hadn't entirely sunk in yet, but her intuition was adamant. A vague premonition that this might be the final regular girls' get together added to the slow erosion of her up till then ordered life.

Dana felt as much regret as excitement.

The doorbell rang right on time. She rushed up to the front door and opened it. There, on the doormat, stood her friend Ellen. Just as expected. Big smile on her face. Just as expected. In one raised arm she held a takeout bag, as usual, in the other a small grocery bag with unknown treasures. Never happened before. It was yet another moment where predictability went out of the window.

"Lunch?" Dana asked.

"And ice cream. Grant pass to the castle to fair Lady Ellen?"

"You may enter." She let her best friend in with a small bow.

Dana wasn't too happy with the anxiety about upcoming changes in her life, so she left all the worries at the door. Better yet, playing along with El's medieval romance theme, she threw them into the moat. It was time to have fun.

The two friends cherished these Saturday afternoons when they had the time for themselves, away from families, other friends and work. They would always first spend the lunch chatting about said families, other friends and even work. This time was no different. Even though Dana had spent the previous weekend on a business trip, the amount of news and gossip to catch up with wasn't big enough to outlast the ice cream – the tub was big – and Ellen brought up something that was bothering her all through the lunch. "So, Dana, what's the big mystery?"

"What big mystery?"

Yep, Ellen was certain Dana was harboring a secret. Way too innocent.

"Come on, I saw your expression. There was something other than Bill's fiancée you were itching to tell me about."

"Well," Dana relented, "it's not really a mystery. I'm not even sure what it is. I have a new job. I got reassigned."

Ellen had already opened her mouth wide to congratulate her, but she shut it at the last sentence. "Is that good or bad?"

Dana stopped eating the ice cream and laid her hand on the table, spoon held upright like a scepter. "Actually, I don't know."

"How come? You didn't foul something up?"

"No, not that I'd know. One day I got the order to show up at the headquarters and that was it."

Ellen mouthed "Headquarters?" with wide eyes. "So, what are you working on now? Expert advisor? Signing important papers..."

"Nope, I'm now a field agent."

Ellen dropped her spoon on the table. "That is big. Isn't that what you hoped for?"

"Well..." There was definitely more to Dana's story than she was willing to tell. "In a way. It's not a really important work that we do," she said sadly.

"That's okay, you're just starting."

"It's a small department; I don't have all that much 'up' to go there."

"Small department? Does that make a difference?"

"I guess. It's sort of special cases that we work on." Dana wasn't sure she would want to tell exactly what she was working on now, or even if she should. "There's just me and my boss... partner. Just the two of us."

Ellen smiled unintentionally. To her, those words sounded like an opening to a nice romance novel. She knew exactly where to take this conversation.

"So, boss partner. He or she?"

Dana gave Ellen a look. She could almost see her friend filling out the New People in Friend's Life form. In the interest of good relations and a pleasant day, she conceded to tick off the boxes along with Ellen.

"He."

Check. Ellen's smile widened into a grin.

"Mature, experienced?" Ellen's eyes shone almost like a limelight. She really expected a new office romance for her friend. Why were they talking about this, again?

"No and..." Dana paused; would she describe Mulder as experienced? Compared to her, sure, but in general... "...no."

"Oh." Things to look forward to box crossed.

"What's wrong with that?" Dana knew she shouldn't be doing this, but teasing El was fun.

Ellen hid her confusion by licking her spoon clean. It took enough time. "Well..." She scooped up more ice cream. "How can your new department do a good job if you don't have anyone with enough experience?"

"There must be a good reason, but I don't question my bosses' choices."

"A little skepticism is always good, Dana. Keeps you on your toes. You should try it sometime."

"Come on, El. You know me. I don't want to hurt my career."

"Suit yourself." The conversation called for her to be more direct. "So, what's this partner of yours like?"

"What do you mean?" Moving on to the next section of the form was inevitable, but a little delay was welcome.

"What's he like? You know. As a person."

"I only just met him."

"You've obviously been working together for at least a week. Don't tell me you haven't even spoken to him." Especially, though, inspected his physical appearance in detail. However, as Ellen well knew, Dana usually inspected the inside details rather than the outside ones.

"Okay, he's young." First impressions box. Check.

"Come on, Dana. You know that's not what I meant." Not check.

"He's... enthusiastic."

"Okay..." First impressions, second try. Check. "...but you know that's not what I mean."

"What do you mean then?"

"Dana! You know... tall, dark..."

Dana nodded discreetly. Still, enough for Ellen to notice.

"... has a nice smile..."

After a moment, Dana shook her head, imperceptibly.

"...is really handsome..."

Dana shook her head again, this time with more force. Ellen's disappointed expression was straight out of a textbook. The corners of her mouth stretched almost to her chin. In other words: Physical appearance box, doubly crossed.

Ellen tried again. "But..."

Dana couldn't help but feel sympathy to Ellen. She put some effort into finding something good to say about her new partner's appearance. In his own way, he was...

Ellen, very impatient, preempted the answer by continuing: "...he's kinda cute anyway."

Dana considered that. She had no idea what to say other than that the ice cream was really really good. Unfortunately, she had to say something. It wouldn't be a complete lie and El would be pleased. "Sort of," she said with a slightly quieter voice. "But you won't see him on any magazine front pages."

Ellen was so overjoyed with that strained declaration that she could easily forget about the rest of the form. The rest of the afternoon, in fact. Dana was glad to notice how far these little gifts went.

"Is he romantic?"

"How should I know El?! He investigates murders and disappearances. He's into weird stuff." Dana blushed, having realized she may have given away too much. Time for damage control. "If this tells you how romantic he is, you're hopeless."

"Well..." Ah, so Ellen had a similar difficulty defining romance as Dana did. "Does he open the door for you?"

"No. But he always tells me when it's open." Dana was very obviously not treating the subject with the gravitas it deserved. It looked like Ellen was about to throw the entire tub of ice cream at her friend. As a preventative measure, Dana pulled it to herself. She took time to meticulously scoop out the last of chocolate chips from the edges.

"Come on, there must be something good you can say about him."

Dana sighed. After Jack and a couple of other little flings, she was apparently pegged an 'older guy' woman. And so, her new work partner insulted her friend just by being young. Ellen had been told very little about him and already he had to redeem himself to her. The only other things Dana could tell were those Ellen should never hear about. "We don't yet know each other that well. When I know more, I'll tell you more."

Ellen groaned. The form was stored for later completion.

"So, what exactly are these special cases you're working on?" Ellen didn't want to stray too far from the theme. It was a safer, if foggier, territory. Dana waited a little to see if she could think of what to say to save face. Vagueness was the theme, so she settled on: "They're sort of cold cases."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Old ones. Those that were never truly wrapped up."

"And you're finishing them up?"

"If possible."

"Okay. You'll get something more exciting soon," Ellen said with an optimistic conviction. "You're great, Dana. Don't worry. Really."

Contrary to how she expected Dana to react, the other woman didn't say anything, head bowed.

"What?"

"I don't know. I feel I should be different."

"Different how?"

Dana shrugged. This conversation had unintentionally strayed into the territory where resided the unease she felt with her new assignment. It wasn't all the mumbo jumbo only an idiot would believe in. Handling that was easy. It was more about her. There was need to feel more down-to-earth. She was a grounded person of course, she just didn't get a confirmation of that with such a job. "More of a serious person."

"Hmm..." Ellen obviously had an idea and Dana observed with interest. "I think I know."

"What?"

"I think what you need is to make yourself look the part."

"Part? I'm not pretending to be anything. Do you think I'm going undercover?"

"No, of course not. I meant that you need a little change. If you want to reach the top of the mountain, dress warm."

"El, you're talking in riddles."

"You want to get to the very top."

Reluctantly, Dana nodded. Not that that was a secret.

"You'll want to look like someone who is at the very top. You need a makeover!"

"Makeover?"

"Sure. What do you say?"

Dana spent exactly ten seconds thinking it over. If she looked like a rational, sensible woman, she might feel rational, sensible, and sane. Not like a medium or one of those people from Melissa's circles. Couldn't hurt. She grinned. "All for it."

"Good. First, you need a new haircut," Ellen declared.

"For that, I need time." Which was something Dana didn't have nor did she expect to have soon. In the limbo between her previous and her future work, she spent the afternoons getting into shape and workdays acquainting herself with a field she, for what little she knew about, actively avoided until then. Hairdresser appointments were the last thing on her mind. "If I'm to do anything with my hair, it'll be limited to what I can do in front of my mirror."

"I can do it."

"You?"

"Of course!" Ellen was suspiciously enthusiastic.

"No, no. I'm not trusting you with scissors."

"I'm a surgeon , Dana. You can't say I can't handle sharp tools."

"And I know enough anatomy to know that hair isn't found anywhere near your area of interest."

Ellen wasn't about to let go. "Come on, auntie Claire taught me. She may not be the best hairdresser in the world, but she's been running her salon for decades. Never a complaint against her."

"Fine, then you tell her she has a house call, any Saturday afternoon."

"She isn't going to cross five states just to do my best friend's hair. Come on, I know all she knows."

"It's not the knowledge I'm worried about, it's the skill." Nonetheless, Dana had already mollified. It was a fair guess Ellen really was her only choice.

"You're not the first person whose hair I cut," Ellen pacified and Dana buckled.

o-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-o

Ten minutes later Dana found herself in front of her bathroom mirror with wet hair, an old T-shirt and a few paper tissues around the collar for easier cleaning of the cuttings.

At the first look at her reflection she noticed all the imperfections on her face that hadn't bothered her until then, so she focused on her hair. She hadn't changed her style in about ten years. A change was welcome for that reason alone. It was still the style of a student. It was safe and meek and she didn't want to be that anymore. She looked naive – was she really?

She returned to her kitchen where the two set up an impromptu hair salon. Ellen held a pair of scissors and a comb with confidence and Dana made the final decision to take the leap of faith. Whatever Ellen came up with had to be an improvement.

"So, have you decided yet? What'll it be?"

"I don't know. Shorter. Professional."

Ellen took time to consider the choices and Dana observed her expectantly. When impatience won over, she made a cajoling motion.

"Wait, I think I have the latest Cosmo in the car," Ellen called over her shoulder, already halfway to the door.

"No. Wait, El."

Ellen returned.

"It's okay. How about something like Melanie Griffith."

"The Working Girl?"

"The one and the same."

"You mean that really big hair, totally 1986?"

Dana laughed. "No! The short one."

"Oh," Ellen pretended to only now remember the movie. She made two rounds around Dana's back, murmuring.

Dana could almost see the wheels turning as Ellen tried to figure out how to get her a harrison ford along with the new hairstyle. Her friend was incorrigible when she was in her matchmaker mode.

"I think we should tweak that a little. You'd look even better if we were to change..." she raised a few strands of hair on the sides of Dana's head to appraise something only she could see. "Very close to it. I think you'd look good. Shorter here and same length in the back. Yeah. I think you'll like it."

"You do your stuff. I trust you."

o-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-o

About half an hour later Dana threw open the kitchen door as though she was making a grand entrance to the hall where the whole world waited expectantly. Ellen followed. The two settled themselves in the bedroom, in front of the wardrobe door with a mirror, admiring Dana's new look. Her hair was dry, shorter and quite different. She was actually satisfied with the outcome. It made her look serious, just how she wanted it, but in the casual tee she wore, she even looked playful. Ellen actually did a magnificent job in both idea and execution.

"Venus," her new hairdresser commented.

"I think your hair's a little closer to that one than mine," Dana laughed.

Ellen threw a few of her long locks over her shoulder to make herself look just like the painting. "Yeah, my hair and your color and a whole load of glossy products and we might just make it."

Dana nodded.

"But... I really think you look good," Ellen said more seriously.

Dana eagerly nodded again.

"I'm going to need a new wardrobe." She snatched a blouse from the closet. "I can't dress like this anymore."

Ellen was stunned. Dana's choice of clothes was always something her friend felt overly confident in. "Why not?"

Dana turned to stare at her.

"What's wrong with the clothes you have now?" Ellen knew exactly what the answer was.

"Well..." Dana threw the blouse back into the closet, considering. "It's a different job. I never went out in the field before. Besides, I usually wore scrubs anyway..."

"So do I, and I never got an unexplained urge to change my wardrobe."

"I need something more..." Dana swung with the closet door as if that would help her think of the right word.

"I know."

The two peered into the closet.

"I need my next paycheck now," Dana groaned.

Ellen took a light yellow blouse from the rack. "Surely you can wear these until then."

Dana ignored that, making it obvious that she and the blouse had no future together. At least not in a professional capacity. "Why am I not rich?" she wailed in frustration.

"Your parents weren't smart enough to choose careers in finance," Ellen explained. "And so you're not wearing skimpy designer dresses and doing nothing but driving around in a sports car all day with a coiffed poodle on the passenger seat."

Ellen had a point, though Dana wasn't sure it was a good one. Besides, from the looks of things she might soon take on the role of a passenger poodle herself – and would have to dress as a fennec! It was just wrong!

She scanned the rack and came to a decision. She really didn't want to resort to this, but... She took out a red plaid jacket and inspected it.

"Dana! These are your date clothes!" cried Ellen, recoiling.

"Exactly."

Not a week ago, Dana had a few suits reserved for romantic lunch dates and occasional dinner. Unlike her other suits, they were a little more colorful and cut a little more elegantly, with a hint of a figure. It was only now that she saw how ordinary, if not downright ditzy, they were. Nonetheless, her 'date clothes' were the only thing she would feel comfortable wearing now. They would have to do.

"You're going to wear your date suits to work? Just work?" Ellen still couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Unless you know of a way I could become a master seamstress over the weekend so I can make myself new ones..." Dana shrugged. "I have nothing else."

She took out another suit and a blouse and threw them on the bed. She hadn't worn them in a while, a testament to where her relationships stood. "I have to see if this still fits."

Quickly and with not a little amount of zeal, she changed into it. The light blue suit and a striped blouse painted a very different woman than who she had been until then; a woman aware that she is a woman. And yet, it wasn't what she was looking for. She also needed to be assertive, dependable, trustworthy – an authority... Maybe even to pretend that what she was working on now was a serious job. She sighed and dropped onto the bed.

"Dana, you're starting to scare me," Ellen laughed. "Wasn't it a couple of years ago that you asked me if this was too revealing?"

"Yeah," Dana said weakly, "that's what I thought. And I had that blouse with cleavage. And I was meeting Jack for lunch. You remember how he was."

"He never cared about what you wore," Ellen pointed out. "Well, it's only fair. He didn't care about what he wore either."

"He liked this!" Dana countered, unprepared to believe what Ellen was saying.

"Yes, but now you're wearing it as an everyday outfit."

Dana couldn't deny the point. Ellen was right. They used to be the clothes she would wear to make herself more attractive, and now she wanted to wear them to make herself presentable, if only slightly. And it still didn't feel right. She felt more like an old school teacher than an investigator. An old maid.

She could just imagine the scene: she's facing the bad guy, the bad guy is facing her. She looks determined, the bad guy sneers in contempt. She's in the red plaid suit, he's wearing... whatever. His gun is pointed at her and hers just drawn from her holster. The moment is tense as they look at each other. The word 'freeze' she tries to yell a more apt as a description of her voice than an authoritative command. Absolutely, very professional. The tale doesn't end well for her either.

"Look on the bright side," Ellen said through Dana's haze, "your new hair looks good with it."

In all honesty, Dana thought it added to the old schoolteacher look whereas the longer hair made the whole look somewhat cute. Since she was very satisfied with the hair, she would need to change the clothes. Plain and simple.

"I still need new suits," she said sadly.

"Well, sitting here, pining, won't help you."

"I'm not pining."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not. I'm just... I feel uncomfortable in these clothes." She grabbed an old beige jacket lying next to her and threw it at Ellen. Not that it was really old. And she actually bought a pair of these! She felt even more ashamed when she remembered Mulder in fact saw her in it. Not only that, it was on her very first day. She wasn't even sure why she ever liked plaid.

Ellen was curiously inspecting the jacket.

"You take it," Dana offered.

"Why? I don't wear suits, Dana. It's yours."

"I won't be needing it anymore. I can't give it to Melissa. She'd probably make napkins from it or something."

"Tell you what." Ellen returned the jacket. "You store it right there in the closet. If you still won't want it two months from now, I'll take it."

"Thank you."

She then joined Dana on the end of the bed. "If my advice helps you any, buy some tops and blouses first. They're not that expensive and you'd be surprised how much difference they can make. Then buy suits."

"I guess it makes sense," Dana sighed. She even considered asking Ellen to borrow her clothes, but immediately thought better of it. Ellen's taste in clothing was closer to Melissa's . Bill's fiancée wouldn't be of help either – Tara would gladly let her borrow her clothes, but the fact that they lived on the opposite ends of the country made borrowing a little more challenging. She couldn't exactly ask the Navy to station her big brother close to her just so she could exchange clothes with his girlfriend.

"Don't worry, Dana," Ellen smiled. "You'll have that renovated in no time," she indicated the closet.

Dana thought Ellen was entirely too optimistic.

Suddenly, she remembered she might crinkle the suit if she tossed on the bed and shot off it like a rocket. The suit was fortunately resilient enough; it was just as smooth as before.

The clothes she had taken out spurred Dana into action, which prompted Ellen to follow. The clothes got sorted even as the wardrobe was being emptied. Unjudged, the casual clothes found their own pile by the side. The 'date clothes' were easy to separate from the others as they had grouped together already. The rest were sorted with not a little effort and anguish. Despite that, the girls had fun.

Finished, the two admired the result of their work. The frightening part was that the closet looked emptier as a few pieces ended up in the boxes atop the closet, to never be seen again. The suits Dana was about to phase out were squeezed on a small section of the rack and the rest struggled to fill out the void. Unsuccessfully.

"No sense crying over it, Dana," Ellen soothed. "It's not empty. It just has more room for the new."

"I bet you say that to every hip replacement," Dana growled and stalked off to her living room.

Ellen quickly closed the wardrobe, gave it a wink as well and hurried after her friend.

o-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-o

Both moved to the couch, unsure what to do next. The silence lasted about twenty seconds when Ellen couldn't stand it anymore. "So, what else is new? What else will you change? New things you'll need?"

Dana thought about it.

Without a word, she returned to her closet. Coming back with a small briefcase, she settled at the dining table.

"Briefcase? You're right!" Ellen said with a gleam of recognition in her eyes as she joined her.

Not saying anything, Dana opened the case only to reveal a mostly black interior – a black foam insert completely filled out the insides, containing a few black things that looked like tools and a shape that was unmistakably a gun. Ellen recoiled reflexively.

Still silent, Dana took out the offending thing and a small bottle-cleaning brush.

"I had this in the closet most of the time," she commented.

For one brief instant, Ellen saw something in her friend's expression she had never seen before. A cold, hard edge. A clear and definite signal of danger. A vague sense of dread told Ellen that Dana was ready for the direction her career had taken. Her friend might not even need a gun to become a lethal force if anyone dared to mess with her. The moment was fleeting enough not to scare Ellen thoroughly, but it left an impression nonetheless.

"Do you think you're going to need this?"

"Likely," Dana said with equal measure of playfulness and wary anticipation.

"Do you expect to get shot at?" Ellen hadn't treated many gunshot wounds, but she knew what a bullet can do. It wasn't something she wished on anyone, least of all her best friend.

"Maybe." Another cryptic reply. Maybe. Maybe Dana wouldn't mind it either.

The weird trance-like phase ended after that and Dana almost joyfully brushed the barrel. She showed the brush to Ellen, not that there was much to see. Not a speck of dust there. The gun had been cleaned after the last practice session.

That was when Ellen realized: "Dana, you're going to be a detective!"

Dana snorted. "I'm not Police, Ellen." She offered the gun to her friend. "Something like it, though, yeah."

Ellen turned the scary object in her hand, not really looking at it. It was heavier than she expected. She gave it back.

Dana produced a leather holster from somewhere behind her, like a cartoon character who had a whole storage just behind the back when needed. She fitted the gun into it and replaced it. She turned around for Ellen to see.

"Well, it's not a cabaret feather tail," Ellen laughed.

So did Dana. "Then it's a good thing I don't expect to join a cabaret undercover."

"Why do you keep the holster behind your back? Why don't you put it on your hip?"

"Like a gunslinger?" Dana's eyes widened. She couldn't imagine herself wearing one of those huge leather belts that were all the rage in the Wild West. "Calamity Jane?"

"Yeah, you know, they're always so charismatic. But you're right. You don't look like Doris Day."

"Neither did Calamity Jane."

Dana sensed Ellen's tension hadn't abated. "I better put this away before I scare you to death," she smiled at her, comforting. She removed the holster and took it out of Ellen's sight. "Let's forget about my gun and go watch people on screen play with fake ones."

"You didn't rent action movies, did you?" Ellen asked in alarm.

"Of course not." As everyone around Ellen knew well, those were an absolute no-no with her. "All fun, no shooting."

o-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-–-o

By the time the second movie finished it was dark outside and both were nearly asleep. Ellen wondered why the movie got such good reviews. It was an exercise in boredom and it excelled at it.

"This is how it all ends," Dana sighed wistfully. "You expect a lot. You get excited. You prepare for everything that might happen. And then... nothing."

"...it all fizzles out."

"Exactly."

"You think it'll be like that for you?"

"I hope not." Dana stood from the couch, walking off somewhere. "It could. But it's a step towards the top. As long as I'm patient, I'll be fine."

Ellen was channel surfing to wake up enough to drive when Dana returned dressed in the blue suit. She grinned, satisfied with the transformation she helped effect.

"Well, even if it's a dead end, this new job of yours beat some sense of style into you. That must be worth something."

"Only when I have you around, El."

"Okay, then I and your new job helped you see the light." She reluctantly rose from the couch. "You really do look good, Dana."

"Thanks, El. I'll live for these next few months, at least," Dana smiled in return.

Ellen's face fell. She knew Dana meant living with the clothes she had, but as her eyes met Dana's gun on one of the side tables, Ellen got scared there might be different meaning to those words. She wondered whether it wouldn't be better to suggest to her friend to get herself reassigned right back to where she worked before. That conversation was better left for another day.

On top of that, on top of everything, it was time to go home. She told Dana as much and a somewhat hurried and frantic, but completely usual, saying of goodbyes followed.

Ellen walked down the driveway with one last smile and wave.

"Bye, Dana."

Before Dana closed the door, she fastened her holster to the skirt. It made her feel better about herself.

"Scully," she corrected to herself.


Another note: You could say this is a missing scene to The Jersey Devil. The scene (Ellen's only appearance, as far as I know) that inspired this fic is in that ep. The only time Scully wore the two suits I "borrowed" was in that ep (I think) and the only time she was presented in her girl-friend persona was there. However, as I said, this takes place between the Pilot and Deep Throat.