"Closet of Eternal Sorrow, Part Eight"
The nurses' station was surrounded by at least a dozen people. Scully couldn't recall when it had been this busy in their ward. Furthermore, she peered at the various faces of the people who hovered around the station and for the life of her, she didn't recognize any of them. Basing her assumption on the various people's clothing, she deduced none were staff members. Maybe they were all guests of patients then, she concluded. Still, such a guest surge was unusual. People tended to stay away from the deathly hallways of oncology for various reasons; either scared to catch something themselves, worried about infecting the sickly kids or just plain scared of watching somebody so ill with this cruel disease.
She slowly plowed her way through the crowd, finally arriving at the desk. She was about to grab a patient's chart when she heard somebody calling her name.
"Dr. Scully?" It was Simone, one of the nurses.
"Hey," she offered her a healthy grin.
"I'm so glad to see you. They want to see you in the boardroom. I was just about to send somebody to find you."
"They?" Why would somebody summon her to the boardroom?
"Professor Brooks' secretary called and asked for you." Simone explained.
Scully felt a tiny knot forming in her belly. Brooks wasn't one of her biggest fans. Well, she had to be honest with herself; Brooks wasn't a fan of most people. He ran a tight ship, so to speak, made sure people followed the rules and guidelines he set and was very strict when it came to budget saving. Scully made sure she was always under his radar and since she was a rule-stickler herself, it wasn't so hard for her to manage that feat. And yet, nobody liked hearing the combination of the words 'Professor Brooks' and 'The Boardroom'. That was the sort of combination that bode no good. She screwed her face at Simone.
"I hear you, sister," the nurse sympathized with her. "But, I wouldn't keep him waiting if I were you. You best just go and get it done with, or he'll hunt you down wherever you go."
Scully let out a miserable huff. "I know," she told her and turned to go.
"I'll have you in my prayers," the nurse called behind her as Scully pushed her way through the crowd once again.
"Thanks," she answered her quietly and released another doleful sigh. She hurried down the ward corridor, exited and then decided to take a short detour via the ladies' room before she took the awkward journey up to the seventh floor. She stood in front of the sink and examined her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was immaculate; it was delicate enough not to scream at everybody, yet in enhanced all her important facial features. Her face was somewhat more pale than usual, but she put it down to the fact that she was probably reacting to the unexpected summons. Something did bother her about her face, though. She couldn't put her finger on it, but in the back of her mind she had a strange feeling that her face seemed a little too perfect, even for her. Still, the exact source for her odd feeling wasn't revealed and she decided to brush it aside for now and deal with the immediate task at hand.
Without further ado, she left the ladies' room and headed for the elevator. Just like in every other company, here, too, the more prominent your position was in the food chain, the higher you sat physically in the building. Thus, the offices of the hospital administration were located in the top most floor and that gave one time to either get ready for such meetings, or, like in Scully's case, it served to enhance one's trepidations towards the upcoming event.
Of course, since she truly wanted the elevator ride to end as quickly as possible, it chose to pause on each and every floor, and at times just as she let out an exhale of relief as the doors closed, they chose to re-open and admit an additional number of people into the elevator. A ride that was supposed to take maybe two to three minutes, lasted over fifteen and by the time she was deposited on the seventh floor, Scully was a nervous wreck, having had time to conjure too many extreme scenarios in her mind.
As she walked the few steps towards the boardroom, she ordered herself to cease her thoughts of doom. Most likely it was something completely minor and she was the one who was making something out of nothing. There! She told herself! She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and tried to force her heartbeat back to its regular pace. Alas, none of her relaxing techniques did the trick and her heartbeat only moved in a faster pace with each step she took. It was then that she realized that possibly she should listen to her body's message and believe it. She had a horrible feeling that something bad was about to happen and she couldn't make that feeling go away.
The boardroom door was now right before her. The room had no glass walls or windows to it so she had no idea who was waiting for her inside. She wondered if this was intentional and decided it was probably indeed so, for various reasons. Right now she felt this served as a means of intimidation. The people inside had the upper hand. They expected her, but she on the other hand didn't know what to expect.
There was no way she could avoid this meeting so she took a deep breath and pushed the boardroom door's handle all the way down and entered the room.
Despite expecting something of the sort, Scully's heart still skipped a beat as she noted six pairs of eyes all staring at her with deep intent. She closed the door behind her and noticed that the only remaining seat was the one at the far end of the table, facing the 'committee'. She was forced to walk across the room while all their eyes bore into her, making her cringe inwardly with terrible discomfort.
The one-second walk that felt like a two-hour one finally ended and Scully took her seat in front of the board members. She gazed up and noted that the entire group consisted of old-timers; mostly medical professionals-turned-administrators. All of them quite renowned in their fields of expertise who mostly supervised younger members of staff these days and handled hospital policies and bureaucracy. She resisted her need to let out a huff of disgust as she told herself that most likely one day she would probably be holding such a position when she was no longer able to practice. Then she thought better of it and decided she'd rather retire than stoop so low. This time she did let a tiny sigh slip through the crack of her mouth.
She waited patiently for the 'elders' to begin the deliberation. She figured it would give her a slight edge if she first heard what they had to say so she could form a proper response; one that would serve her interests. She had no doubt that she would have to defend those before this crowd.
"Dr. Scully, you must wonder why we had summoned you here." Professor Brooks began.
"Yes," she answered simply, making sure to keep her tone calm and neutral.
Brooks leaned forward and fixed his chair as he responded. "Well," he paused for effect, "we have had a number of complaints concerning your treatment of patients and we have had a discussion amongst the board members and have come to a decision."
Wham! Her heart hit the ground. "A decision?"
"Yes," Brooks answered with a whiff of impatience.
She knew she truly didn't want to know but she had to ask. "What sort of decision?"
"It concerns your continued employment here at 'Our Lady'." It was father Ybarra who supplied the answer to her query this time.
No. This wasn't happening. "Are… you terminating my position in this hospital?" she asked as her heart's pounding intensified.
"We see no other option," Ybarra confirmed.
Her fear actualized, Scully felt herself moving from desperation to anger. "No other option?" she challenged.
"With the complaints against you piling—"
"Piling?!" Scully cut into Professor Brooks' accusations.
Brooks nodded at her and then turned to Ybarra. The clergyman took a step towards a tiny table in the room's corner and picked up a rather thick folder. Scully noted her name was scribbled in bold on its cover and she assumed this was probably her personal HR file. She'd only been in 'Our Lady' a few years. She'd never been called to anybody's office with any complaints. How did her file get so big? Why had nobody spoken to her before today? If she didn't know any better, she'd be inclined to believe this was a deliberate action against her. Damn! She sounded just like Mulder now.
As she kept running scenarios in her mind, trying to figure out which of her patients could have complained, a single name popped in her mind. But who would take such a complaint seriously?
Ybarra was now leafing through her file and picking out notes and letters from it. Each piece of paper he dug out he set in a neat pile on the boardroom table. Scully watched in disbelief as he pulled another piece and another and another. The pile kept growing and this vicious ceremony seemed to last forever.
She felt tears streaming down her cheeks. Crap! The last thing she needed was to show weakness in front of this pack of vultures and yet, she felt so overwhelmed by this, supposedly, incriminating evidence against her, she couldn't muster her control over her reaction.
"Why… why did you not tell me about all of these complaints before? This is the first time I've been approached in this regard." She was grateful she was sitting down as she felt her entire body was trembling.
"What do you mean?" The surprised question came this time from Professor Jane Gordon, Urology Chief and basically Brooks' right hand 'man'. "Human Resources have mentioned speaking to you several times in this matter and despite all the promises you kept making, you have stuck to your ways and ignored their requests."
Scully's eyes widened in surprise. What the hell was happening here?! As she stared at Gordon in shock, Ybarra opened her file again and riffled through it. He then retrieved two sheets of paper covered in somebody's meticulous handwriting. "What's this?" She queried with ghastly trepidation.
"Notes made during the numerous meetings you had with your HR representative." He slid the two sheets over to her. "Please observe your signature under every listed meeting."
Scully stared stupefied at the damaging evidence. Indeed, her signature was present under each meeting's conclusions. She skimmed through the notes. As she rushed through them she realized all the complaints were made by parents of patients of hers who had died. They all claimed that she had promised them that their child would survive. She tried to recall what she had said to those parents but she had seen so many sick kids during her time in Peds Oncology and had had so many conversations; she couldn't recall the full details. She might have made such promises to some, and that was only due to the fact that she truly believed she could get those kids better. She most certainly didn't promise survival to all those parents and even so, since when were doctors terminated because they didn't succeed in curing a patient? Especially when she knew for certain she wasn't negligent.
What was worse, she had no recollection of those meetings with HR on this matter, yet she'd obviously had them since she had signed the forms and had apparently agreed to that ridiculous request.
"Anything on your mind, Dr. Scully?" Brooks asked.
Yes. Plenty. Nothing she cared to share with this panel that had obviously made their final judgement in her regard. Unable to respond in words, she just shook her head.
"So, we are all in agreement. Dr. Scully, your termination is effective immediately. You are to hand over your hospital ID and we request you leave the hospital grounds once you have handed your ID to the security officer at the entrance."
"What?" No! This was too fast. She didn't even get the chance to truly defend herself.
Brooks continued. "Please don't cause us any problems. If you do, we will have to ask security to remove you against your will. Do you understand?"
She didn't know what to say.
"Dr. Scully, do you understand?" That was Ybarra.
"Yes," she whispered. "But… I will need recommendations… I need to find another job… Can't you just give me another month? I need the money—"
Brooks cut in. "You made your bed. Now I suggest you lie in it. I can't give you any recommendation, Dr. Scully. I wouldn't wish for any hospital to hire a doctor such as you. You're a danger to the patients. You should be stripped of your title and barred from all hospitals as far as I'm concerned." He thundered.
She held her head in her hands, unable to accept what had just happened. "But I won't be able to practice medicine—"
"You shouldn't," Ybarra quipped. "I'm not even sure I'd trust you to bag my groceries."
"Scully?"
Her eyelids flew open. "Huh?" she blinked and looked around her. She was in their bedroom, not in the hospital boardroom. It was all a dream. An awful one, but it was just a dream. Despite the revelation, Scully wasn't able to shake the awful feeling the dream had created. It felt so goddamn real.
"Damn. I woke you up. I'm sorry." It was Mulder.
"No... It's good you woke me up. I was having a terrible dream." His presence improved her mood and the gloomy feelings slowly evaporated.
He lowered himself and sat by her side, his hand absent-mindedly hovering over her head and finally resting on her hair. His fingers ran through it gently. "Care to share?"
She didn't really want to delve on the dream. Just thinking about it brought back the emotions that accompanied her while she was immersed in it. "Maybe later," she needed some distance.
He seemed somewhat disappointed but he tried hard to not let it show. "Oh. OK, then."
She looked up at him. "I need some time to process. I'm not going to keep this from you. I'm just not up to it myself, OK?"
"I understand."
She could see that he was more self-assured now, and she offered him a small smile.
He returned the gesture. "I thought you were awake. I heard you talking. I guess it was just in your dream."
"Yeah," she said and rose to a sitting position.
"Anyway, I don't usually do this, but somebody kept ringing you, and I figured after the third call that it might be important, so I answered and took the message."
"Oh?" she looked at him quizzically.
"There's some board meeting and your presence is required. I told them you were on sick leave but they said that it was really important and that unless you were in a very bad state, that you must attend." He snorted. "Some nerve they have; I mean, it's like you never left the FBI; Skinner and his goddamn hearings…"
Mulder kept on rambling but she lost trail of his voice. Her heartbeat was racing, her hands shaking. No! Silly girl! That was just a stupid fucking dream! Furthermore, it was an absurd dream. Nothing about it made sense. Stop letting your feelings control you! Stop it now!
Somebody was touching her hand. "Scully?"
It was hard to understand through the loud pounding in her head.
She felt somebody touching her chin and using it to tilt her head upwards. She stared blankly at a pair of concerned hazel eyes.
"Scully?! What's wrong?"
She began to tremble. Mulder let go of her chin and was now grabbing her by her shoulders and pulling her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to get her to calm down, but all she could feel was suffocation and she flailed her arms and tried to get away from his grip. He wouldn't let her. He kept holding her tight with his strong embrace, pinning her down and preventing her escape.
When she finally realized fighting Mulder would be futile, she ceased her movements and waited for him to release her. She was still anguished but he forced her to come to her senses.
With his arms still clutching to her, he finally turned to face her. "I'm going to let go now. Please don't make me grab you again," his eyes appeared sad and worried.
She nodded and mentally ordered herself to keep calm for now.
He removed his hands and she didn't move this time. She didn't want to face more of his penetrating stares. They just made her feel more vulnerable.
He obviously felt her avoidance because he just sat beside her and said nothing and she knew he probably had a ton of questions on his mind. She saluted him for being so patient with her. There were times he'd be such a nag, and then there were times he'd be so clueless. This time she believed he did have a clue but he also had the good sense to give her the space she required.
She lifted her eyes and turned to face him. He picked up her gaze with his eyes and stared intensely into hers, as if trying to dig deep behind them and endeavoring to figure out what had made her flip all of a sudden.
"Mulder…"
"You OK, Scully?"
"I… I think so…" she trailed off.
He looked away and she sensed the awkwardness of the moment. Some days she wondered how he could be so sure of himself in most situations, usually situations others would be unable to cope with, but when it came to moments that concerned her well-being, once he was sure the crisis was over, he didn't know what to say. He went all floppy and goofy-faced and so damn cute. She loved him that way but also felt sorry for him that she managed to unnerve him on such occasions. It was a somewhat manly trait, she knew. Mulder was actually better than most men when it came to dealing with emotions, but certain moments still caused him discomfort.
"I could use a drink," she offered her assistance.
He looked back at her, a somewhat shocked expression marking his face.
She let out a snicker. "Not that kind… well, maybe I should have that kind, but I won't be too presentable to the board if I appeared drunk—"
"What?!" his demeanor changed abruptly. "You're not thinking of going, now, are you?"
She hadn't expected his harsh reaction. "Of course I'm going. You, yourself, said that it seemed important enough to answer and that they seemed quite insistent."
He got up from the bed and began to pace angrily. His arms flew out with exasperation. "Am I the only one who was paying attention the last few days?! Scully, I hate to be the one to point this out to you, but you are not well." He stared at her with blazing eyes, almost as if he were trying to pin her down with his glare.
Logically, she knew he was right. It was almost strange the way things were folding out. Instead of Mulder running amok and her trying to prevent him from endangering himself, their roles had been reversed. But, her logic was also telling her that yesterday she was given scientific proof that there was nothing medically wrong with her, and now there was no real reason for her to ignore the medical director's request. Certainly she couldn't do this on the basis of some... paranormal mambo jumbo. The thought actually made her smile.
"I'm glad you find me amusing, Scully," Mulder berated her. "I, certainly, don't feel the same." He huffed, then he seemed to deflate as he slumped onto the bed.
She offered him a jaded smile. "I'm sorry, Mulder. It's just that… what do you expect me to do?"
From his lying position on the bed Mulder groaned and pushed himself back to a sitting position. He turned to face her and his miserable stare made her wince. "I'm worried, Scully. I have a very bad feeling about this."
She turned away from him and stared at her lap. "I have to go. This is my job."
"So what!" he cried out.
"So… I have to go." She was beginning to feel irked by the endless argument.
"In that case, I'm coming with you."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous!"
He looked peeved. "You are being ridiculous, Scully! It's like you're ignoring all the signs. What's gotten into you?"
She couldn't believe he was even asking her that question.
He took in her incredulous expression and got up and went to the bedroom entrance. He paused as he was about to exit and turned around. "My gut tells me that should you go to that meeting, something bad will happen. I know you think I'm overreacting but please indulge me. You know that my hunches are usually correct. You should at least allow me that much."
He wasn't going to let this one go. She knew it. "Fine," she uttered with resignation, "You can come with me."
He nodded. "Thanks," he said quietly and left the room.
"Mulder," she called after him.
"What?" he responded.
She could have sworn there was anger lining his response. He probably thought she was about to change her mind. Well… "What time is that meeting?"
There was silence and Scully assumed he was looking for the note he wrote down with the details. "Noon," his voice echoed through the quiet house.
"Thanks," she answered and got up. She had some time to get ready. If she was going to lose her job today, she would at least do so looking her best.
Assistant director Walter Skinner hung his coat on the hanger, sunk into his executive chair and stuffed his briefcase under his desk. It was five past nine in the morning, which was the usual time of his arrival these days, now that he was responsible for the department of background checkups.
He sighed and thought for the millionth time why he stuck to this job. It was obvious that they gave him this 'distinguished' position as a form of punishment, trying to force him to resign on his own and every day he thought seriously about doing just that. He was basically shelved by the head honchos of the Bureau. His record was spotless, and he made sure it stayed that way, thus preventing them from finding reasons for dismissing him, but he couldn't argue with their choice of position. Thus, they shoved him into a less prominent department, a position he was overqualified to do, hoping he'd give up and quit on his own. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction but he had to work hard on his willpower every waking hour.
The only leeway he allowed himself was sticking to regular office hours and never putting in any overtime. There wasn't much for him to do most of the day anyway, and he saw no point in wasting his time at the office. He was hardly included in meetings and he hardly had reason to convene any himself. He had a crew of a dozen agents, most of them still had mama's milk lining their lips and the rest were almost as old as the building. Aside from a weekly rundown, there wasn't much he needed to discuss with any of them. The more experienced agents helped the newbies and they all seemed to manage their tasks without his involvement. He was bored senseless and yet he came to work every day and stayed there till the clock struck five like the dutiful soldier he'd always been.
He logged into his computer and skimmed through the four generic emails that came overnight. Each email was then moved to its relevant folder. That was about it for the day's work. He had two new books to read and he figured he could get himself his first morning coffee to have with one of them. The FBI didn't care too much as to how he spent his time within his office as long as all his forms were filled in properly and his reports were handed on time. Even so, Skinner always made sure he was reading material related to his profession. Nobody would have anything to say about him using his work hours for his personal business. So, true to current times, he was presently reading a book concerning The Prophet Mohammad. His second book dealt with cyber warfare. Both were hot topics in the Bureau these days. Alas, he had no idea if any of the data he read would become relevant to his job, but he hoped times would change and that he would once again find himself under the management's good graces and if so, keeping current would be invaluable.
He got up and trudged towards the nearest rest area. In the good old days, when he used to have an assistant, she would have taken care of his coffee, but his current position didn't require an assistant. Without too many appointments and meetings to handle, the assistant's job became redundant and Kim was forced to find a different position within the Bureau. Now, whenever he got to the break room he prayed that somebody had either bothered to prepare a batch of coffee and that some coffee still remained in the pot. Today his prayers were answered and he decided to take it as a good omen for the rest of the upcoming day.
Just as he was adding the cream to his steaming mug of coffee, his cell chirped. He started and some of the cream ended on the counter instead of his mug. He cursed under his breath, landed the cream jug on the counter and retrieved his phone. He peered at the screen and frowned. It was an unknown number. Such numbers usually belonged to companies sending automated messages to mobile customers, but his number was off the grid to such calls thanks to his work in the FBI, so this meant the person calling didn't want his number identified. It had been a while since he received clandestine calls from anybody. He wasn't quite sure if he missed them.
After the third ring, he clicked the answer button and listened intently.
"H… Hello?" An unsure but very familiar voice spoke on the other end of the line.
Skinner's eyes widened with surprise. "Mulder?"
"Skinner."
Skinner couldn't see Mulder but something about his voice told him he was smiling. Skinner would have smiled as well. Mulder calling him was a most welcome surprise, but he knew that if Mulder chose to make contact, that something was going on. "What's wrong?"
"Good Ol'Skinner. Right to the point. That's why I like you so much."
Skinner rolled his eyes. Mulder always knew how to flare up his nerves. He held him in high regard, and he had come to care for him like a son, but just like with any other relative, sometimes he got on his nerves. "You wanna tell me what's going on, or you just called to ask for my apple pie recipe?"
Mulder snorted. "I figured some foreplay should ensue before we get to the actual good stuff, but I guess you were never big on foreplay, so I will cut to the chase: I need your help."
Well, that wasn't too much of a surprise. "With what?"
"I need you to search somebody's apartment."
Skinner gulped. "Did I hear you right?"
"You sure did."
"I can't just go about busting into people's lives as I please. You were FBI, Mulder. You should know as much."
"I'm not expecting you to 'bust' into anybody's life. I know you operate from within the bureau's boundaries and I don't expect you to do otherwise."
OK. So maybe Mulder had changed since he'd left the agency. Certainly the Mulder he knew didn't give a crap about protocol. Then again, Mulder did give a crap about him, and he never operated outside of protocol; well, almost never. "I'm listening."
"It concerns Scully. I believe her life is in danger."
"What do you mean?" Of course it had to do with Scully. Mulder wouldn't make such an effort for just anybody, especially these days.
"There's this woman, the mother of one of her patients. She's been making threats against her."
"Do you have anything more substantial?"
"Yes. Somebody had recently stolen Scully's lab coat with her ID and her office keys. Soon after, somebody gained access to her office. At the time the only difference she noted were a batch of homemade dolls that had been rearranged. She didn't make too much of it but I took a better look at those dolls that were rearranged and I noticed they were all presenting with a cut in their back. I deduced that something was inside those dolls at the time she received them and that during the recent break-in into her office, whatever was in those dolls was retrieved."
Skinner didn't like what he heard but it still wasn't enough to warrant a search of somebody's apartment. "What's the point to all of this, Mulder?"
"The point is, the dolls were handcrafted by that same mother who has been threatening Scully, and the theft of Scully's ID occurred the day after she began threatening her."
OK, here Mulder had a somewhat stronger case, but Skinner felt he wasn't revealing the entire story. "What aren't you telling me? I know you, Mulder; you probably have a theory about all of this."
Mulder didn't hurry to respond and Skinner knew he was contemplating how much he could expose. "Mulder? I don't have all day."
Mulder sighed. "She's not OK, Sir."
"Who?"
"Scully. I think… this woman is doing something to her."
Here we go. "What exactly?"
"I'd rather not say before you give me some more concrete proof. There's just so much I can do these days. I need your help. Scully needs your help and I need you to trust me on this."
Mulder had pulled the 'please trust me' card, not to mention the 'Scully's in danger' one. He actually got off his butt and called his ex FBI boss after keeping silent for a good number of years. OK. Skinner knew he was desperate and should he not help him, he might succumb to impetuous measures and that was the last thing he needed. "I will see what I can do."
There was a deep sigh of relief on the other end of the line. "Thank you. I will text you the details, as well as my number."
The line went dead and Skinner tucked his phone back in his pocket. He threw out his, by now, cold coffee, washed his mug and poured fresh coffee and cream into it, then headed back to his office. He sat at his desk, took note of the two books he had prepared, picked them up, and shoved them into the first empty drawer. Today he wouldn't need special aids to keep him occupied. No. Today he had good ol' Fox William Mulder to make sure boredom would be kept at bay. He laughed. If only he'd had known he'd be eager to have some of Mulder's mischief back in his life. He let out another deep hearty laugh. Life was indeed an amusing thing, he thought.
Mulder smiled as he put down his cell. It was good talking to Skinner again. He had to admit that he missed the AD's orderly demeanor. Despite appearing rather gruff, Skinner was a warm fuzzy teddy bear and a person he could trust with his life, which was saying a lot these days.
He looked at the watch on the microwave. It was ten in the morning and Scully was still in the shower, pampering herself for the upcoming meeting. He padded to the bathroom door. There was no sound of running water coming from within so he assumed she was almost done, although, he noted to himself, when it came to women, the part that came after the shower usually took longer.
"Scully, you almost done in there? I could really use a shower before we go."
"Yeah. Almost," she replied from within the bathroom.
He turned around, about to go and find something to do till Scully came out, when the bathroom door burst open and out she came, all properly dressed and ready to go, her makeup concealing the tell-tale signs of her nightmare from two days ago and her hair all nicely dried and brushed to perfection.
She smiled at him. "You can go in now. I'm done."
He almost ingested her with his eyes. She looked refreshed and almost like her usual self, plus the fact that she wore a juicy grin on her face. He gulped. She was literally taking his breath away. "You know… a shower shared by two saves a lot of water."
She walked past him slowly. "I know." She teased coyly.
If only they weren't short on time, Mulder sighed, got into the bathroom and flung the door shut behind him. He padded to the sink, grabbed his shaving cream, spurted some of it into his palm and then began applying it to his face. As he lathered the cream over his facial stubble he wondered why he actually kept to this daily shaving routine. It was a habit he assumed when he joined the FBI academy. You either had a real beard and kept it groomed to perfection or your face had to resemble a baby's butt. Since he was still producing fuzz back in those days, there was no hope of a real beard for him so he was forced to adhere to a regular shaving routine and he just got used to it. Even after he left the bureau he just couldn't shake the habit away. He'd get up every morning, and despite knowing he wouldn't even be peeping out the window, he still shaved.
He decided that once they resolved Scully's issue, he would grow a beard. It was time to shake the FBI man right out of him. That period of his life was definitely over. He tried to imagine how he'd look bearded. It was too hard to fathom. He hoped Scully would approve. He assumed a loopy grin at the thought. She'd probably raise her eyebrow to the sky. He snorted. Women tended to be attracted to bearded men, he thought and found himself liking that notion more and more.
He finished his shave, washed the remaining mixture of foam and stubble from his face, slapped his beautiful baby-skin cheeks and smiled with approval. Damn fine lookin'.
He undressed and got into the shower. The water didn't need much adjusting as Scully had just finished showering a short while before and he was quickly immersed in the soothing warm stream. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted into a hazy daydream. Scully in a luscious pink frilly baby doll luring him into their bed, slowly removing each strap and the shy whiteness of her breasts protruding from under the satin garment.
His tongue shot from between his lips. He could feel the warm water dripping on it as he licked his lips and then bit into them.
Oh God! What had she done to him? They have had plenty of sex ever since they became more than just work partners. At first it was just that; hot steamy intercourse. The stuff dreams were made of, and then she slowly cooled down until all that was left was icy mechanical coupling that didn't have anything in it.
He'd stopped lusting for her after a while. They had their routine sex, each managed to be satisfied but it wasn't anything beyond that. And now… he was ready to devour her like a feral beast, he was a canon ready to fire, he was—
Clink!
Mulder's eyes flew wide open, his tongue slithered quickly back into his mouth. Huh? Was that the front door he'd just heard slamming? Could Scully… Naaaa. She wouldn't do that to him, now, would she?
His body still sheathed in soap, he hurriedly stepped out of the shower, grabbed the first towel he could get his hands on, and as he rushed towards the bathroom door, he expertly wrapped it around his waist and tucked its corners so the 'skirt' wouldn't fall off. His hair was sopping wet and he dripped water all along the bathroom floor. He managed to dry his feet on the rug and then he dashed out of the bathroom, hoping his hunch was wrong.
This was one of those times when he wished he couldn't trust his instincts. Alas, he was spot on. As he strode through the cabin, he could hear the humming of a car's engine as it drove away from the house. There was no mistaking that engine's particular sound. It was Scully's Fiesta and the engine sound was quickly dying as it drove away from the cabin's entrance.
He flung the front door open, dashed out into the porch and despite knowing it was futile, he called her name out loud. "Scully!"
The Fiesta was a tiny spec of green in the distance now.
He hurried back indoors. Scully still had to unlock and re-lock the front gate so possibly he might be able to catch her before she managed that.
He almost crashed into their walk-in closet as he rushed to get dressed. He grabbed the first boxer shorts, t-shirt and pants he could find, swiftly donned them and grabbed his slippers as he knew it would take less time to put them on compared to sneakers. It was the speediest dressing he'd ever achieved.
He flew out of the house, leaped over the porch steps and ran like a bat out of hell.
Yes! He could see Scully was still at the gate. She was pulling it shut. "Scully! Wait!" he cried out to her, hoping she could hear him.
At the sound of his voice, Scully did raise her head, but instead of waiting for him, she quickly finished locking the large padlock, then hurried back into her car and sped away.
"Fuck you, Scully!" Mulder cursed with frustration. He was fuming. It was like she tricked him with her coyness. Lulled him into this sexual fantasy and made him think with his goddamn Johnson. He didn't expect her to pull a… 'Mulder' on him. She was Scully. She never did such things. He shook his head, then trudged back along the path. He would catch a cab to the hospital. He just hoped he wouldn't be too late.
As he entered the cabin, he could hear his cell trilling with all its might. He dashed towards the kitchen table, snatched the device, flipped it open and then stuck it to his ear. "Mulder," he answered like he used to do back in the day.
"Skinner," was the gruff response on the other end of the line.
Mulder blinked. He totally forgot about their conversation. He hoped it was good news. He was upset enough as it was. "Yeah?"
"I managed to get a warrant for Miranda Sanders' condo. I'm on my way there now. Anything in particular you'd like me to check out for you?"
He would have kissed Skinner if they didn't have a phone line between them. "I'll probably know more when you'll be inside her place. Can you call me when you're there?"
"Yeah," Skinner confirmed and then disconnected.
Mulder smiled. So Skinner may be lacking on the side of tact and basic decorum, but he was true to his word and besides, Mulder never really gave a crap for manners anyway.
He ordered a cab and waited patiently for its arrival. As he waited, he mulled over Scully's uncharacteristic behavior. So this is how it felt on the other side of the ditching line. It sure felt like shit.
The boardroom door seemed more ominous than ever. Remnants of her horrid dream kept seeping into her mind and she found herself shaking her head, as if trying to get rid of lice clinging to her hair. She kept staring at the door, unable to force herself to open it. She'd arrived two minutes early, but now it was ten minutes later and she still hadn't entered the room. Her heart was beating rapidly, her head was pounding and her skin felt clammy. For the umpteenth time she stretched her hand out in an attempt to open the door but her gaze that followed her palm couldn't ignore the steady tremor it presented.
She didn't think she could do it. The strong sense of déjà vu was ossifying. She couldn't find any will to fight her fears. She thought she could conquer this. She forced herself to come here, despite strong trepidation. She ditched Mulder because she felt she had to cope with this on her own. She was leaning too much on him and she didn't like it. Not one bit. Especially because it was like leaning on a rickety twig and she felt that at some point he will crack and then they'd both fall down a bottomless pit and there would be nobody to catch them.
But now all the self-assuredness that she felt as she drove to the hospital seemed to have dissipated and in its place she felt anxiety and defeat and deep down she regretted having left Mulder behind like that, and then she scolded herself for being so needy.
She felt confused. She felt this was wrong. Her thoughts, her feelings; they were wrong. But they were so strong and she felt so weak.
She began retrieving her trembling hand back when the door opened all of a sudden. Her heart jerked and her gaze flew from her hand to the face of the person now filling up the open door. It was Father Ybarra.
Despite herself, the tight-lipped face of the clergyman forced the remaining wind out of her sails. She felt herself losing balance and she swayed to the side but before she completed her fall, she felt a strong hand grabbing her by the arm and keeping her on her feet.
"Dr. Scully, are you alright?"
Her head was spinning and she literally felt as if she was hanging by a limb as Ybarra kept preventing her from falling. The most she could do for a response was offer him a weak moan.
Ybarra ushered her into the bustling boardroom and plopped her into the first chair he could find. She could hear the concerned voices of the surrounding medical professionals as they all tried to converge on her.
Somebody grabbed her wrist and was muttering about the rapidness of her pulse. Another was asking somebody else to get her something to drink.
She leaned back into the boardroom chair and lifted her gaze. About ten pairs of eyes gawked back at hers and she almost flinched. She took a deep breath. "I… I'm alright…" she told them but her voice sounded flat and small. Even she didn't believe her words. If she thought yesterday's nightmare was a shameful event, reality seemed far worse. Maybe if she pinched herself, she'd find out this, too, was just another installment of her over-active imagination.
"I'm really sorry we dragged you here when you're obviously still not well." Professor Brooks apologized.
Scully felt awkward. This wasn't a health issue. Her tests all came back negative. She was fit as a fiddle. Well, at least physically. Mentally she definitely belonged in the cuckoo's nest. She had finally cracked under the pressure of taking care of Mulder, losing her son and having to deal with death and sickness on a day to day basis. There was no other logical explanation.
"It's OK," she told him, which of course it wasn't, but she'd already made the effort. There was no point in going home now. Besides, right now, she wasn't sure she would be able to get up, walk back to her car, let alone drive it.
"Here, Dr. Scully." Jane, Prof. Brooks' assistant, placed a glass with orange-colored liquid in front of her. "It's fruit juice".
"Thank you," she gave her a grateful smile, and brought the glass to her mouth. She tasted the juice. It was the basic supermarket brand; carton-tropical-with-extra-preservatives juice. It was the kind she tended to avoid due to its high sugar concentration but today it was exactly what she needed. She downed the juice and relaxed back into her chair.
"Are you feeling any better?" Brooks asked.
"Yes. Thank you."
"Do you think you'd be alright if we continued with the meeting or do you want us to reschedule?"
Reschedule. Strange that just a few hours ago it was of the utmost importance that she attended the meeting and now it was suddenly possible to have it on another date. She resisted the urge to let out an embittered snort. Administrators could be so thoughtless. "No. It's fine. I'm feeling well enough."
As if a cue had been given, as the last word left her mouth, all the staff members obediently sat back in their places. The moment resembled her dream, but this time she wasn't sitting opposite the entire board but amongst them and the facial expressions of the esteemed crowd weren't harsh and disapproving. Well, with the exception of Ybarra who was probably born wearing a scowl.
"Dr. Scully, I am very grateful that you made the effort and joined us today."
She nodded approval at his remark and noted to herself that his tone was friendly and nothing like his appearance in her dream.
"So, the reason we asked you to come in concerns your position in our hospital."
Bam! She blinked as her heart skipped a beat. Was this some evil tactic to get her all nice and comfy before they slit her throat?
"There are going to be some changes around here. Some departments will have to cut down on staff; others will be adding new members to their teams."
The word 'cut' did just that; slice right through her. She now believed this was going to end badly in a manner similar to the one portrayed in her nightmare. The means were different but the end result looked as if it were going to be the same. As Brooks continued, Scully felt her heart rate returning to its hasty speed from just a quarter of an hour before. She wasn't able to concentrate on the professor's words. Her thoughts were darting from one notion to the next; termination, job hunt, depression, losing her house, losing Mulder…
"… did you hear what I was saying, Dr. Scully?" The professor's higher note interrupted her frazzled thoughts.
This was embarrassing. She had no choice but to admit that she hadn't heard most of what he'd just said. "Sorry, Sir. Can you repeat that?"
He gave her a somewhat incredulous stare and heaved a deep breath. "We have to make staff cutbacks in the Pediatric Oncology Ward. You are the newest staff member, so unfortunately you were first in line to be cut."
Scully felt her shoulders slumping. So, this is how the cookie crumbles.
"But—" Brooks continued and Scully wondered what the 'but' was about, "we all agreed that it would be a great shame for this hospital if we were to lose a talented physician such as you, and since we are interested in enlarging our Genetic Diseases department, we would be pleased to offer you a position with the Genetics Team."
Scully blinked. Did she hear correctly? They still wanted her on board? They were actually interested in keeping her?
"Dr. Scully, is there anything you'd like to say?" Brooks stared at her intently.
She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to recover from the wacky rollercoaster ride that this day had turned into. "Sir, I admit that all this is coming as somewhat of a surprise to me."
"I quite understand. We are pretty short on time, but I guess it should only be fair to give you a few days to deliberate your decision."
"That would be good, Sir."
Brooks leaned back in his chair. "Good. I would like to have your decision by the beginning of next week. Whatever your decision will be, it will be at least two more months until the changes will take place."
Two months. That meant that if she didn't take their offer, she'd have to start job hunting as soon as possible. Well, it could be worse, and Genetics was very appealing to her, but she was worried about the various intrigues and people's self-serving interests that may be the drive behind this change. She hated office politics but nobody was exempt from that game.
"Thank you, Sir," she said to Brooks.
"Thank you, Dr. Scully. I hope you will agree to stay with Our Lady's family."
"I will let you know as soon as I've made my decision, Sir."
With that the meeting was adjourned. Everybody got up and trailed slowly out of the room. Scully remained seated, pondering what she'd been told. Her elbows were hunched on her knees while the tips of her fingers touched each other as she slipped into a deep reverie.
"Dr. Scully, the meeting is over."
Her eyes widened with surprise and her hands flew to her side. She felt like a mischievous child caught in the act. "Father Ybarra. I… I just needed to think things over. If it's a problem, I could go someplace else."
Ybarra gave her a look of disdain. "You should know that the decision to transfer you to another department wasn't unanimous. Some of us do not find your methods of treating patients to our liking."
Shocking! She thought sarcastically. "I take it you weren't one of my supporters?"
"Don't get me wrong. I know your heart is in the right place and that you always put your patients first, but sometimes this tenaciousness can work against you, not to mention that it can be a burden on the hospital's budget when you throw your all into treating a terminal patient who scarcely has a chance."
Scully felt the need to form fists and she fought hard to keep calm. It was hard to believe this was a man of God. She gave him a curt smile. "Well, thank you for your candor, Father." She got up and began moving towards the door. "I really need to go home and get some rest."
"Right." He pursed his lips as she passed him by. "Indeed, that illness of yours is quite 'mysterious'. Maybe you need to take a break?"
Don't roll your eyes, Dana, she ordered herself. That man! He was intolerable. "Good day, Father," she responded curtly to his obvious accusation.
She didn't look back and she tried to walk away with pride and confidence, but deep inside the seeds of doubt had been planted and they didn't need much watering to rise to their full height and glory.