Title: MORE EQUAL by Tim Scott -- 1/1
Author: tscott2533@aol.comNOSPAM (TScott2533)
Date: 11 Apr 1999 19:16:30 GMT
Title: More Equal
Author: Tim Scott
Email: TScott2533@aol.com
Website: http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Arc/1461/
Rating: PG-13 due to some bad words
Archive: Yes to Gossamer, all others must ask permission
Summary: Post "One Son" story
Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the property of
Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and the Fox Network.
My use of them is unauthorized.
All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others.
ANIMAL FARM -- George Orwell
She found him in the basement.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know where he'd go. And the seal on the
door was broken, the one left by the crime scene team after finding Spender's
body. Mulder was famous for his lack of respect for proper procedure. Rules
were for other people, people like her. Not for Fox Mulder.
Most of the lights were off. Some illumination came from the window set high
in one wall, the rest from what managed to reach the office from the hallway.
Since the nearest fluorescent had failed, this wasn't much. It was sufficient
for her purposes. She'd learned a lot about shadows in the past few years.
Mulder himself was not immediately visible. His spoor was, though. The
nameplates belonging to the most recent occupants of the office were missing
from the door. She could see a broken bit of plastic with OWLEY on it lying on
the floor near the trash can, the undented one.
She'd only been down here twice since the fire -- once to dragoon Spender into
helping her find Mulder, the second time with Mulder himself on an information
raid. She'd noticed odd feelings both times. She assumed that the
anal-retentive air of neatness that the place had taken on since their
departure was an effect of Spender's presence. He'd had that look to him.
On the one hand she was drawn to the clarity of thought that such tidiness
inspired. On the other she was appalled by a fundamental sense of *wrongness*
that the absence of Mulder's presence in this place gave her.
It was confusing. Too much of her life was confusing lately. Just one more
source of stress, like an itch she couldn't scratch.
The fresh-paint smell was gone but the aroma of ashes remained, a subtle
aftertaste that snuck up on you. Mulder never wore cologne or after-shave so
it was useless to seek him that way. She knew the smell of his sweat, though,
from stakeouts and times she'd had to drag him out of the gym. She sniffed
delicately.
Nope.
He was here, though. She could *feel* him in the darkness around here
somewhere. She scanned for more sign.
A file drawer left open, pens strewn across a desk instead of in the pen
holder... On a hunch she looked up. Yup. Pencils in the ceiling. He'd been
here, marking his territory or something. She sighed softly. As she turned, about to seek him elsewhere,
he materialized out of the darkness in the back of the office. They stared at
each other for a long moment.
"So."
"So."
Faint bars of light crossed his face, making it difficult to read. The eyes,
green now instead of hazel, were lit but his mouth was still in shadow. His
stance was tense. Well, it could be worse. At least he hadn't put the desk
between them. She maintained her position in the doorway, determined not to
enter *his* space until granted permission.
Dana took time out to chide herself for
expecting anything else. Spender may have been a rookie but she wasn't. She
knew the rules, the realities of working in a Man's World.
Mulder moved to sit behind the desk. So that's how it was going to go. Fine.
She wasn't really in the mood to kiss and make up anyway.
"You disappeared awfully quickly after twisting AD Kersh's nose, Mulder."
His smile came and went almost before she registered its presence. "You could
have stopped me anytime, Scully, and you know it. Besides, you didn't really
think I'd let a chance like that slide, do you? After all the shit -- pun
intended -- he put us through over the past months?"
Well. There was that. And it *had* been a distinct pleasure to watch the vein
in their erstwhile boss' forehead throb. She looked down at the floor long
enough for her hair to mask the smile she couldn't repress. When she had it
under control again she looked up.
"No, I suppose not." She paused for a breath. "What are you doing down here,
Mulder?"
He glanced away, then back. "Oh, just sittin' and thinkin'..."
She wasn't sure she wanted to play this game. On the other hand, the
alternative was silence. Mulder did pretty nasty silence when he was in a bad
mood. She didn't need that right now. At least if he was talking she might be
able to steer the conversation to something useful.
"About...?"
He stared at his folded hands on the desktop in front of him for a moment
before looking back at her.
"About how I owe you an apology. And a 'thank you'."
She leaned against the door jamb. Not that she actually expected to faint from
the shock, but it never hurt to be sure.
"For what, Mulder?"
He didn't flinch from it, she had to give him that. "The thanks is for
supporting me with Kersh in the office earlier today. I know that wasn't easy
for you after the argument we had over at the Gunmen's place. The apology is
about Diana. Gate guards at El Rico testify that she left the base with the
elder Spender after the immolations in the hangar. You were right, she was
working with -- or for -- the Cancer Man."
Dana decided the door jamb wasn't enough. She needed a chair after all, and
screw his damn territoriality. After dragging one over to face him at the desk
she said, "Why didn't you believe me, Mulder?"
"That's one of the things I've been pondering."
She waited for a moment. He fumbled around in his pockets for a few moments,
didn't find what he was looking for and gave up with a little sigh of
frustration. She considered giving him the stash of seeds she kept in her
purse for emergencies, decided against it.
"Come to any useful conclusions?"
He nodded slowly. "Actually, I did. I've had this odd sense of deja vu all
day. Seeing you in the doorway there crystallized it for me. Brought it into
focus."
She could feel an eyebrow going up. "Brought what into focus, Mulder? Don't
make me drag it out of you, please. Just say what you have to say, for once."
He shrugged. "Have it your way. I was thinking about the role reversal.
About all those times you claimed I was assuming facts not in evidence, how
prone I am, according to you, to jump to conclusions with insufficient facts to
back them up. And about how you didn't allow a similar lack of factual
evidence to slow you down last night when you and the guys ganged up on me."
She sat up straight. Before she could speak he pressed on.
"I thought about how you didn't mind my pig-headed loyalty when it worked in
your favor, when it pushed me to drag your frozen ass out of Antarctica. My
stubbornness seemed to please you in that particular case."
"Mulder..."
"And then, of course, there was the VinylRight case. I couldn't help noticing
that when I told the truth about what I'd seen, when I saved Skinner from being
attacked by that thing, my reward was to be placed in restraints. To be staked
out like bait, helpless to defend myself. This is in contrast to how you dealt
with the situation. You were certain enough that you saw a monster to shoot it
but not certain enough to testify to it later. You came out smelling like a
rose on the report, too. I asked Skinner, later, what you said when he
questioned you. His exact words, I believe, were that 'Ginger Rogers'
tap-dancing skills had nothing on those of Agent Scully'."
Dana could feel the heat in her cheeks as the blush stole over her face. She
hoped the dimness of the room hid it.
"Congratulations on that, too, by the way. You used to be a truly rotten
liar. So my lesson from that particular case was that the truth is not always
desirable to you. Well, I'd known that for a long time, actually, but it
finally sank in that time."
Her eyes burned into his but he refused to back down. Eventually she was
forced to look away. He smiled, then, but there was no humor in it.
"But I digress. You wanted to know why I refused to take your word that Fowley
was dirty. You were frustrated that I failed to believe what you considered
convincing evidence that she was not the person I once knew. I finally made
the connection when I saw you in the doorway just now. Remember how I met Jack
Willis?"
She froze.
"As I recall -- and my memory is pretty good, Scully -- I tried to warn you
that the Jack Willis who came out of the ER after his near death experience was
not the Jack Willis you remembered. I tested him three different ways and he
failed each test. And when I tried to convince you of my findings... do you
remember your reaction?"
She stared straight ahead, refusing to move.
"No? Okay, I'll refresh your memory. You refused to believe me. When I
suggested that your past association with him might be clouding your judgment,
that you might be letting the fact that you'd once been lovers influence you,
you blew me off. You were outraged, in fact. Funny how that works, isn't it?"
The silence dragged on for nearly a minute. The occasional creaking and
settling of the building was the only sound. Finally Mulder sighed, got up and
headed for the door.
"Where are you going, Mulder?" she managed.
The sound of his footsteps receding didn't pause as the reply floated back down
the hallway. "It will take a few days for them to get us back on active duty.
I need to think about this some more. I'll see you Monday."
Dana got up and wandered aimlessly through the office. The sight of the second
desk suddenly infuriated her. She raised her right hand, enraged, to sweep the
desktop clear but the sight of an inter-office envelope in the chair stopped
her. She turned on the lamp and pulled out the note. The envelope was much
heavier than it should have been. She ignored that for a moment and read the
note first.
Scully:
This is the desk I requested for you some time back. It
arrived, I'm told, three weeks after the fire. Typical
speedy service from Stores. I'm sorry that Fowley got
to use your desk before you did. If you want you can
have it fumigated before you decide to use it. If you
decide to use it. You may want to send it back. It's
up to you. Enclosed with this note is your nameplate
for the door. After the events of the last few days you
may not even want to stay with the X-Files. Again,
that's up to you. Whatever you decide, I'd like to take
this opportunity to say that it has been an honor and a
privilege to work with you.
M
She stared blindly into the dimness for a few minutes before she took the
foot-long plastic strip out of the envelope. It had been a symbol of what she
thought she wanted for so long. Now, to hold it in her hands seemed rather...
anticlimactic. She put it back into the envelope, left it on the table and
slowly departed the office, automatically locking it behind her.
The End
Go, lemmings, go!
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