Fusion: Warehouse 13/The X-Files

Notes: Written for Bering And Wells AU Week over on Tumblr. Scully!Myka gets assigned to new partner Mulder!Helena...

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J EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
(FBI HEADQUARTERS)
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Special Agent Myka Bering removed her sunglasses as she stepped into the building, blinking involuntary a time or two as her vision adjusted to the change in light quality and intensity.

The sky outside was clear, the sunlight almost blinding in its brightness, but the artificial light inside the building just seemed… off somehow as Myka looked around. Things like that didn't normally bother her, but she'd been uneasy before she'd even walked inside, and that was as good an explanation as any.

It wasn't every day that a relatively new agent - only a year and a half out of training - got called in from their teaching assignment at Quantico to report directly to their section chief in Washington D.C. The fact that Myka knew her record to be exemplary had allowed her curiosity to take precedence over her anxiety, but hadn't been able to eliminate it entirely.

Maneuvering through building security offered a welcome distraction from her nerves, but the respite was all too brief. If anything, her unease grew even stronger as she followed the security officer's directions to her destination. Fortunately, the older man in the elevator with her barely acknowledged her presence once it became apparent that they were headed to the same floor - less fortunately, he still reeked of the imported cigarettes he'd tucked into his jacket pocket, along with a very expensive lighter, and the smell did nothing to settle Myka's stomach or nerves.

Myka let the man - clearly someone with rank and status, whoever he might be - exit the elevator first, noting with some alarm that he seemed to share her destination. He spoke quietly and briefly to the Section Chief's personal assistant, then strode right into the office of Section Chief Scott Blevins - the same man who had summoned Myka earlier that day.

Shaking off her growing unease, Myka introduced herself to the assistant. "Agent Myka Bering. I'm here to see Section Chief Blevins."

The woman smiled - a surprisingly warm and genuine smile that Myka was rather grateful for amidst all the strangeness - then picked up the phone to announce Myka's arrival. "Agent Bering is here as requested, sir."

She paused as Blevins responded, noting something down in her computer. "Of course, sir - I'll send her right in."

Even with an express invitation, Myka knocked politely at the office door once she reached it, and didn't open it until she heard Blevins' reply. "Come in, Agent Bering."

Blevins was sitting at his desk when she entered, and he nodded briefly in acknowledgement as their eyes met. "Agent Bering, thank you for coming on such short notice. Please…"

His sentence trailed off as he gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk, but the intent was quite clear, and Myka obediently took a seat. She had to fight not to jump in surprise as the smoking man from the elevator - whom she'd already forgotten about in her nervousness - moved from just beyond her peripheral vision to stand to Blevins' right. A third man, who must have already been in the office before either Myka or the smoking man, moved to stand on Blevins' left.

Blevins didn't bother to introduce either man to Myka, nor did he introduce Myka to them. If any of the three of them noticed Myka's sudden flare of anxiety, they didn't choose to comment on it. Blevins, instead, got right down to business - whatever that was. "We see you've been with us just over two years."

Myka nodded, using her pride in her work over those two years to project a confidence she didn't quite feel in that moment. "Yes, sir."

Blevins glanced down at a folder in front of him, which his next question revealed to be Myka's FBI file. "You went to medical school but you chose not to practice. How'd you come to work for the FBI?"

He had looked her directly in the eye as he asked that, and Myka met his gaze squarely. The question was hardly a new one, and she even allowed herself a slight smile. "I was recruited out of medical school. My parents still think it was an act of rebellion, but I saw the FBI as a place where I could distinguish myself."

The man on Blevins' left, apparently even more intent on business than Blevins himself, didn't even blink at Myka's subtle joke. "Are you familiar with an agent named Helena Wells?"

That wasn't a question, or a name, Myka had been expecting, and she blinked in surprise before answering. "Yes, I am."

All three men seemed surprised by that answer, looking at each other briefly before the man on Blevins' left continued with his questions. "How so?"

Myka couldn't decipher the undercurrents swirling around her - not with no real information to work from - but there didn't seem to be any reason not to answer honestly. "By reputation. She was born in London and has multiple degrees in science and engineering from Oxford. She's rumored to be a genius with machines, so much so that she had a nickname at the academy... Spooky Wells."

Myka, catching the smoking man's eye as she looked between her inquisitors, gave him a small smile to accompany her statement. He didn't so much as blink, evincing the same apparent stoicism as his companion on Blevins' left.

Blevins seemed to like her answer well enough, however, as he finally jumped back into the conversation. "Agent Wells has developed a consuming devotion to an unassigned project outside the Bureau mainstream. Are you familiar with the so-called 'X-Files'?"

Myka thought it over for a moment, but couldn't recall anything specific. "I believe they have to do with unexplained phenomena."

Blevins nodded. "More or less. The reason you're here, Agent Bering, is we want you to assist Wells on these X-Files. You will write field reports on your activities, along with your observations on the validity of the work."

Silence fell at Blevins' pronouncement, and Myka looked from man to man, turning back to Blevins when she found nothing helpful in any of their expressions. "Am I to understand that you want me to debunk the X-Files project, sir?"

Blevins' answer didn't really reassure Myka. "Agent Bering, we trust you'll make the proper scientific analysis. You'll want to contact Agent Wells shortly. We look forward to seeing your reports."

That statement was as much a dismissal as anything else, and Myka exited Blevins' office with as much haste as she could muster and still look composed and professional. She had no idea why she'd been chosen for this particular assignment, but the paperwork she'd been handed by Blevins made it quite clear that it wasn't voluntary.

There wasn't any choice but to make the best of the assignment - however much her stomach was currently churning - and she decided as she looked at the bank of elevator buttons that she might as well meet Agent Wells while she was here, and get at least some sort of feel for her new partner.
The paperwork Myka had been handed indicated that Agent Wells' office was actually here at the Hoover Building, down on the basement level. That less-than-ideal placement - tucked away as if to keep Wells out of sight and out of mind - seemed more than a little at odds with the unusual interest in Wells that Blevins and his colleagues had displayed during Myka's interview.

Myka, wondering yet again just what she'd been dragged into, sighed in frustration and pressed the button to take her down to the basement. Her first thought after finally stepping off the elevator was that the basement level wasn't quite what she'd pictured - more cramped and maze-like than the upper floors, to be certain, and perhaps a touch dingier, but no different in the end than any other floor in any other federal building.

Agent Wells' office was tucked away in a back corner - exactly as Myka had expected, which revived a little of her faith in her own instincts - and only Myka's excellent sense of direction kept her from getting completely lost while trying to locate it.

A neatly-done, official-looking nameplate beside the door confirmed that Myka had located the correct office. That door was also closed, but Myka could hear music coming faintly from beyond it, and so she reached out to knock.

A feminine, mock-cheery voice - which Myka could only assume was Wells', given the English accent - called out through the closed door a moment later. "Sorry, darling - no one down here but the FBI's most unwanted!"

Myka allowed Wells a moment or two to open the door, then decided to risk being rude and open it herself. She had a further moment to idly consider that the office was going to be a pretty tight fit for two working agents, after which she got completely sidetracked by the state of the office itself - complete and utter chaos that Myka could only pray had some underlying organizational scheme she was simply missing at first glance.

And that some of the chaos was simply Wells attempting to clear some room for her new partner...

Thankfully, a second, more thorough, look around the office did in fact confirm both theories. The walls were covered in papers and pictures and other assorted printouts, some overlapping each other, but it was easy enough to see that it was all segmented and arranged like some massive whiteboard - Myka had to concede it was an excellent way to put blank, unattractive cinderblock walls to use. The only thing on those walls given a clear, distinct space of its own was a slightly battered poster of a UFO up above a forest treeline, with the text I Want To Believe in large block letters at the bottom of the poster.

Before Myka could further ponder the meaning of that poster, the music filling the room suddenly stopped. It hadn't been especially loud to begin with, but its absence immediately created a jarring silence that called Myka back to the present and reminded her that she was standing there gawking at a stranger's office without so much as an introduction, or even a 'hello'.

Agent Wells, fortunately, seemed more amused than offended as she stood there beside her desk watching Myka analyze her office - Myka somehow had the impression that this wasn't the first first time Wells had had someone react that way to her organized chaos.

Then Myka finally met Wells' eyes, and her brain just… stuttered. It wasn't even that Helena Wells was absolutely stunning - which she most definitely was - or that she had the darkest, most unusual eyes Myka had ever seen. It was the raw… something behind those eyes - intelligence, fire, spark, whatever - and the way that Wells somehow seemed to both see her and see *into* her, all at once.

Clearing her throat, Myka forced herself to remember at least some of her manners, and held a out a hand. "Agent Wells? I'm Myka Bering. I've been assigned to work with you."

Wells smiled at her - which almost made Myka's brain stutter yet again - then shook Myka's hand. Her grip was firm and direct, with just the right amount of strength behind it, and Myka decided that it perfectly matched everything else she'd been able to glean about the other agent so far.

Wells' first words were pointed and more than a little sarcastic, but her smile seemed genuine enough that Myka didn't think any of it was directed at her specifically. "Isn't it nice to suddenly be so highly regarded? So, Agent Bering, who did you tick off to get stuck with this little detail?"

"It's just Myka," Myka corrected with a smile. "And I'm actually looking forward to working with you. I've heard a lot about you."

Wells smiled back, but it didn't quite reach her eyes - they were too busy staring through Myka in a rather unnerving attempt to get some sort of read on her. "Oh, really? I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me."

That stung a little, but Myka also found it oddly comforting to know that her new partner shared her concerns about the assignment. Still, she intended to do her job here, the same as any other assignment, and wanted Wells to know that. "If you have any doubts about my qualifications or credentials-"

Wells just grinned and held up a finger to indicate that she needed a moment. Apparently thinking better of it, she started talking again even as she dug around her desk."You're a medical doctor, and you teach at the Academy. You did your undergraduate degree in physics."

Finally finding what she was looking for, she held up a thick, bound printout for Myka to see. "'Einstein's Twin Paradox: A New Interpretation.' Myka Bering's senior thesis. Now that's a credential - rewriting Einstein."

Myka couldn't help bristling a little - she knew that Wells also held a degree in physics, and it was hard to tell whether Wells' praise was serious or mocking. "Did you bother to read it?"

Wells nodded, and Myka was relieved to see no trace of mockery there. "I did. I liked it."

Before Myka could respond, Wells was back in motion, digging around on her desk yet again. "It's just that in most of my work, the laws of physics rarely seems to apply like you'd expect."

Wells unearthed a tablet from under a stack of folders and began tapping on the screen. "Perhaps I can get your medical opinion on this, though…"

She help out the tablet, and Myka took it, looking over the image of a female body laying face down in what looked a clearing in the woods.

"Oregon female, age twenty-one," Wells explained as Myka looked back up at her. "No explainable cause of death. Her autopsy shows nothing unusual."

Reaching over, Wells swiped across the tablet screen to pull up another image, a close up of a pair of large red bumps on the woman's back. "There are, however, these two distinct marks on her lower back. Doctor Bering, can you identify these marks?"

The use of 'doctor' rather than 'agent' - or even Myka's given name - told Myka that Wells was intending to test Myka's ability as a scientist rather than her abilities as a field agent. With that in mind, Myka took a moment to ponder all the possible answers.

When those answers proved disappointingly prosaic, Myka nonetheless stood by them. "Needle punctures, maybe. An animal bite. Electrocution of some kind."

Wells seemed accepting enough of Myka's answers, but reached out again to bring up a third image on the tablet. "How's your chemistry? This is the substance found in the tissue surrounding those marks."

Myka studied the molecular diagram Wells had pulled up - she'd always done well enough at chemistry but this wasn't any formula she'd ever seen. "It's organic. Beyond that, I don't know. Is it some kind of synthetic protein?"

Wells just shrugged. "I've never seen it before either."

She reached over and swiped across the tablet screen again, pulling up an image of a boy face-down on railroad tracks, his shirt lifted in the back to reveal a set of red bumps. "But here it is again in Sturgis, South Dakota."

"And again in Shamrock, Texas," Wells continued, swiping across the screen again. The next image was eerily similar to the previous one - a man laying face down, his shirt also lifted to display a set of those same strange bumps.

Myka's curiosity was definitely piqued. "Do you have a theory?"

"I have plenty of theories," Wells said with a wry smile. "What I can't explain is why it's Bureau policy to label these cases as 'unexplained phenomenon' and then ignore them. Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, Agent Bering?"

Myka blinked, momentarily thrown by the apparent non-sequitur, but managed to answer readily enough. "It seems arrogant to think we're the only evolved species out there, but the realities of space travel makes it unlikely that-"

Wells nodded as if expecting that exact answer, then cut her off. "Conventional wisdom, if most likely correct. This Oregon female is the fourth person in her graduating class to die under mysterious circumstances. When convention and science offer us no answers, might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?"

There was a certain sense to that idea, but Myka wasn't ready to give in just yet. "The girl obviously died of something. If it was natural causes, it's plausible that there was something missed in the post-mortem. If she was murdered, it's plausible there was a sloppy investigation. What I find *fantastic*, Agent Wells, is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there - you just have to know where to look!"

Myks flushed a little as she realized that her response had been much more heated than she'd intended it to be. Wells, though, seemed impressed that Myka had stood her ground - enough so to smile at Myka and even joke with her a bit. "That's why they put the 'I' in 'FBI,' darling. And it's Helena, or HG."

Helena suddenly retreated back into herself, though, every bit as abruptly as she'd thawed just a moment before. Seemingly intent on checking something in the file she'd shared with Myka, she took the tablet back and began tapping on the screen. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, Agent Wells."

When Myka didn't respond in any way, Helena looked back up at her and answered her unspoken question with a grin. "We leave for the very plausible state of Oregon at eight AM."

With that, she turned her attention back to the tablet as if Myka had already left.

Myka, for her part, couldn't help smiling a little as she walked back out into the hallway. She still had her doubts about the new assignment, but she had an even stronger feeling that working with Helena Wells was going to be an experience not to be missed...