Scully woke up ahead of her alarm, her internal rhythms muddled by the time change. She didn't feel particularly tired, she had slept well, and it was nice to not be rushed. She had a longer shower than normal, even washing her hair, which she didn't often do in the morning, and then lounged around a bit in the complimentary terry cloth robe while her hair dried. She took a pen from her bag and read through the descriptions of the panels being offered, circling the ones she thought would be of most interest.
Once her hair was mostly dry, she used a blow dryer to keep it straight as she brushed it out, and then picked through the clothing she had brought to put together an outfit that was reasonably comfortable for a long day of sitting and more sitting. She settled on a pair of black trousers and a matching blazer with a red silk blouse underneath for a bit of colour. Gathering up her folio, she slid the panel summary booklet inside along with the pen and looked over at the clock. Breakfast started in fifteen minutes; not too early to head downstairs.
One of the conference rooms had been set up with circular tables, and a buffet-style breakfast was set up along one wall. There were a few people milling about in the hallway outside, and even more inside, already helping themselves to breakfast and choosing seats. She glanced over the room's occupants but didn't see Stella, so Scully made her way to the line for breakfast and helped herself to a bowl of oatmeal, which she sprinkled with raisins and slivered almonds, a cup of strawberry yogurt, and a banana. She set it all down next to her folio at an empty spot, and then went back for a cup of coffee.
When she returned to the table, Stella was setting a yellow notepad with a black pen clipped to it on the table in the spot directly next to hers. She greeted Scully with a soft smile, one that was so welcoming that Scully couldn't help returning it.
"Good morning," Stella said as she straightened up. "Did you sleep well?"
"Not bad. Hotel sleep, so never as good as home, but it was very comfortable." She didn't add that, compared to the usual places the Bureau put them up in, this place was downright extravagant for having a spotlessly clean bathroom, a mattress with functional springs, and a carpet that she wasn't concerned about walking on with bare feet.
More and more attendees were filing in now, and Stella glanced towards the growing line for the breakfast. "I'd better hop in the queue before there's nothing left. Be right back."
Scully had finished her oatmeal and was halfway through her yogurt by the time Stella returned. She'd tried her best to keep from staring at her while she was standing in line, but her eyes felt drawn back to her each time. She stood out, not in a garish way, but in the way she held herself, her poise, her confidence that wasn't arrogance. She seemed like one of those rare people that was completely comfortable in her own skin, unlike Scully, who often felt like she was a writhing mass of anxiety hiding behind a mask. If Stella felt the same way inside, she was a true master at hiding it.
Stella took a bite of scrambled eggs and began neatly slicing her sausage into even pieces. "What panels are you attending today?"
Scully slid her folio over between them and opened it, pulling out the summary booklet. "Mostly the ones from the forensics track. I need to accumulate a certain number of continuing education hours as part of my accreditation."
"I expect I'll primarily be at the police psychology panels. I've been involved with quite a few serial sexual assault cases over the past few years, and I think it could be useful."
Scully nodded. "My partner's background is in psychology, with a focus on profiling. It's certainly provided a lot of insight in many of the cases we've worked on."
They chatted comfortably as they ate, and Scully was sorry when the speaker from Interpol began his talk and the room went silent to listen. He was actually very interesting, with some fascinating anecdotes about his background and his work, but Scully would have much preferred to continue her conversation with the woman seated next to her.
Half an hour later, after polite applause, they were all standing up, ready to make their way to the various conference rooms where the first panels of the day would commence.
"Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for paying for my drinks last night," Scully said as she gathered her things.
Stella was running her fingers through her hair, loosening any tangles, as she smiled at Scully. "Don't mention it. I enjoyed talking to you."
"Well, I think it's only fair if I return the favour, if you felt up to it, after the formal dinner tonight." She pretended her stomach didn't feel the tiniest bit fluttery at her boldness. There was a connection between them, she'd felt it almost immediately last night, and her gut feeling was that Stella had felt it, too.
"Sure, I'd love to."
"Great! Maybe I'll see you at lunch."
Stella reached out and touched her hand, their eyes meeting and lingering just a moment longer that convention dictated. "I certainly hope so."
Scully didn't let out the breath she was holding until Stella was already walking away.
The first day of the conference went by quickly, amidst a steady stream of panels broken up by brief breaks for more life-giving coffee and food. Scully looked for Stella at lunch but didn't see her. It wasn't unexpected as the lunch period had been arranged to allow the attendees from the same specialization tracks to attend together. While she had an enjoyable conversation with a pathologist from Finland and another from Belgium, she found herself missing the rapport that had come so naturally between her and Stella. At least she had dinner — and drinks afterward — to look forward to.
By the end of the afternoon, she had the beginnings of a mild headache, and she was feeling very ready to call it a day. Thankfully, she had two hours to spare before dinner, enough to time to stretch out on the bed with her eyes closed for twenty minutes, check her work email on her laptop, and debate about calling Mulder. It was lunch time in D.C. though, so he probably wasn't at his desk, and it wasn't like she had anything specific she needed to ask him about, and it felt silly to think of calling him for the simple reason that she wanted to hear his voice. Besides, hadn't she resolved just yesterday to take some time for herself and do her best not to think about him? She forced herself to take a deep breath, expelling the air back out of her lungs in a controlled exhalation.
After a while, she roused herself from her torpor and padded into the bathroom to fix her hair and tidy up her makeup. She studied herself in the mirror, re-buttoning her blazer and turning from side to side. Should she change? She hadn't brought a lot of options with her, trying to travel as light as possible so she could bring her smallest suitcase. Maybe she could ditch the blazer?
She unbuttoned it again and took it off. Better. She undid the top two buttons on her blouse, tugging on the sides to adjust the fit, and then re-centered the gold cross of her necklace. Eyeing herself critically, she thought it was an improvement. A little more casual but still dressy enough to be professional.
The conference room that had been used for breakfast and lunch had been reorganized for dinner, with the circular tables nowhere in sight, and long rectangular banquet tables in their place. Folded place cards had been placed at each spot, and Scully had to bite back a groan. Assigned seating. She had been looking forward to sitting with Stella, having missed her at lunch. Oh well, hopefully her forced dinner companions would be interesting.
She skimmed through the list by the door to find her name… table four. She didn't recognize any of the names at her table, not that that was much of a surprise. There were only a handful of people here from the FBI, as most of the attendees were European. She sat down at the place marked with her name — Dr. Dana Scully, M.D., Federal Bureau of Investigations, United States — and tried not to sigh. Reaching for the glass pitcher in front of her, she poured herself a glass of ice water and took a sip. She was the first one at her end of the table, and she smiled politely at the group at the other end.
"I despise assigned seating, don't you?" Stella plucked up the place card to Scully's left and replaced it with one that read: Stella Gibson, Metropolitan Police, United Kingdom. "I'll be right back." She walked over to one of the tables further down the row and dropped the place card into the empty spot before returning to take the seat next to Scully. She rested her hand on Scully's shoulder as she sat down. "There. Much better, don't you think?"
Scully grinned, wishing she'd thought to do that. "Much," she agreed.
They both cheerfully neglected the dinner companions sitting on opposite sides of them and had an engrossing discussion that ranged from anthropology to improvements in laparoscopic surgery to voodoo.
"I'm very ready for that drink now," Stella declared, folding her cloth napkin neatly alongside the remains of her bowl of berry trifle. "Shall we?"
"Sounds good." Scully nodded, placing her own napkin beside Stella's and pushing her chair back to stand up. She was feeling loose and relaxed after two glasses of wine and one of the nicest meals she could remember having in a long while.
In the lounge, they ordered drinks and then settled themselves in a pair of overstuffed leather armchairs arranged around a large gas fireplace in the center. It was much more comfortable than their spot from yesterday evening by the bar, and a welcome break after the spine-twisting, ass-numbing conference chairs they'd both been sitting in all day.
"This is nice." Scully took the straw between her lips and took a pull of her drink while folding one leg comfortably beneath her. "I needed this." She took a moment to take in her companion. Velvet black cigarette trousers. A white satin blouse with a deep vee neckline the stopped right between the curves of her breasts. Her skin was pale, like Scully's, but it seemed to glow like ivory. Scully was sure her own cheeks were already pink and splotchy from the wine she'd had at dinner. How did Stella manage to look so undeniably, but subtly, feminine? Mulder would have been falling over his feet at the sight of her, she was sure of it.
Once more, they talked late into the evening, with Scully paying for their drinks this time. She felt slightly giddy, more giggly, and she was sure the feeling could be attributed more to Stella's company than to just the alcohol. She'd paced herself, even after having eaten a huge meal, and she felt pleasantly buzzy by the time they said their good-byes and Scully went upstairs to collapse into bed.
As she changed into her pajamas, washed her face, and brushed her teeth she was surprised by how good she felt. Not simply good. Happy.
She clicked off the lamp next to the bed and burrowed under the warm, soft comforter with a contented yawn.
Yes, coming to London had been an excellent idea.
Huge hugs and a giant thank you to my wonderful beta, Josie Lange!