Submission: Keep the Torch Lit (1/1)
Date: Fri, 10 Jul 1998
From: Vickie Moseley <vmoseley@fgi.net>

Ohmigod! It's an actual vignette!!! But it's very lite on the torture.
There is a casual reference, but more Skinner and Scully angst here. Just
came to me out of the blue the fifth time I watched the movie <VEG>

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Summary: MOVIE SPOILER, the last possible fill in the blank.
Cateory: VIGNETTE (I promise!), minor Angst, UST/MSR
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Ten-thirteen, the MOVIE company owns all these
great toys and I borrowed them. Special credit and thanks to David
Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, and everybody on the movie. I've
paid 6.50 at least five times and plan on doing it at least once more,
so don't sue me. At this point, I feel like a FOX stockholder
<VEG>.
Archive: Yes, please.
Comments: to vmoseley@fgi.net. Please, no sequel requests. Read
the note at the end :)
Thank you to my beta reader on this one--Susan.

Keep The Torch Lit
by Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net

Office of Professional Review
FBI Headquarters

Walter Skinner watched Dana Scully retreat through the door and
into the hallway before the door swung closed on it's own. Taking
off his glasses, he thought for a moment about what he was going
to say. Someone else beat him to the punch.

"I think I've heard enough," Bureau Chief Greg Nelson said slowly.
"I'm not so sure I want that kind of insolence teaching our
recruits."

"She wasn't being 'insolent', Greg. She was being honest." All
eyes in the room fell on Bureau Chief Aaron Moore, who quickly
held the gazes of all who were looking at him in shocked
amazement. Including Walter Skinner. "Walt's right on this one,
and you know it."

"The fact remains that in the period of four days, we have one
demolished building, five dead bodies, two agents running off to
investigate the said bombing without authorization, an agent taken
against her will to an unknown location, her partner assaulted and
almost fatally . . . face it, this was one screw up after another.
Now, somebody has to pay!" Nelson looked back over to AD Jana
Cassidy. "Jana, you can't be buying into this 'bee' bullshit? It's
nonsense! And that story of the cornfield . . . pure fabrication!"

"She has proof," Skinner said, finally, no longer able to hold his
peace.

"Ah, damn it, Walt, you've been protecting those two for years!
It's about time to cut our losses. We don't need a couple of four
baggers running a unit where they have no supervision to speak of
and total autonomy in the cases they investigate." Nelson ended his
comments by glaring directly at Skinner and letting the corners of
his mouth turn up in a greasy smile. "Unless, you have other more .
. . personal reasons?"

"That's about enough, Chief Nelson," came the stern voice of AD
Cassidy. "I will not tolerate insubordination out of a Bureau Chief
any more than I'll tolerate it out of a Field Agent!"

"If I may, AD Cassidy," Skinner broke into the discussion with
clenched teeth. "If Mulder is the four bagger some of you seem to
think he is, then he's the only four bagger we have with 17
commendations in his file, not to mention a stack of injuries while in
the line of duty - this one included. And as for Scully, she hasn't
been out in the field as long as Mulder, but she's already racked up
10 commendations on her own, and since joining him in the unit,
their combined solved cases ratio has brushed 80 percent almost
every quarter. Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd be
damned happy to have about forty more 'four baggers' like that in
the Bureau. We might actually start getting some things
accomplished around here!"

"Sure, he looks good on paper, and so does she, but the fact
remains that when they get involved in something, _bad_ things
happen," Nelson sulked.

"Maybe they're just the unlucky bastards to uncover the 'bad
things'," Bureau Chief Moore interjected.

"Or just good enough to know where to look," Cassidy said, under
her breath. Skinner held his own breath for a second as his eyes
locked with Cassidy's. "I know what you want, Walt. I'll see what
I can do."

More than anything at that moment, Skinner wanted to reach out
and give Cassidy a big hug. But he settled for a stoic nod of his
head.

Reflecting Pool

Dana Scully didn't let his hand go for several steps. But finally,
Fox Mulder let his fingers slip from hers, but didn't move an inch
further from her side.

"You're tired. You should get home and rest." It was said softly,
almost like she hoped he would listen, rather than expecting it of
him.

"I'm fine, Scully. Just a little headache," he smiled at her. "Couple
of beers . . ." He chuckled at the stern look that crossed her face.
"I'm _kidding_, Scully! Geez, get a sense of humor," he
admonished her.

She was about to let him have it with both barrels when her cell
phone rang. Sighing, she answered.

"Scully."

She closed her eyes and chewed on her lip. That was enough
communication for Mulder, he knew who it was. Their death
sentence had arrived.

"But sir, Agent Mulder's doctor said that with his head injury he
should only work half days this week. He really should be resting.
Can't this wait till morning?" she asked.

Mulder took the opportunity to lean in close to her other ear. "Like
sunrise?" he whispered. She waved him off with an annoyed glare.

"All right, sir. Yes, we'll both be there. Thank you." Scully
pressed end and put the phone back in her pocket. "He said it
won't take long and you can leave immediately after."

"Oooo, that sounds promising," Mulder said derisively, just under
his breath. "Any mention of a last meal or a blindfold?"

Scully refused to answer and the two walk back to the Hoover
building in silence.

J. Edgar Hoover Building

The hallway seemed longer to the two of them, but after Mulder
stopped her and took a minute to straighten his tie and she brushed
some lint off his shoulder, they walked through the door. Skinner's
new assistant smiled at the two of them and waved them to take a
seat on the couch. "He's on a phone call with the Director. It
won't take long," she assured them.

"So, Scully, got a copy of that letter of resignation with you. I
might need a template," Mulder whispered in her ear.

"I only made one copy. It was one line. 'I hereby resign.' Even
you couldn't screw that up, Mulder," she whispered back.

"Oh, yeah? Last time I tried, he tore it up and said it wasn't
acceptable. I really need to remember to spell check more often."

She grinned at him in spite of herself. Without thought, her fingers
were entwined in his. The contact of skin on skin was enough to
calm both of them.

The door to the inner office opened abruptly and Skinner stuck his
head out. "If you'd join me, please?" he said and retreated to his
desk without looking to see if they followed.

Mulder took his customary seat on the left, Scully to his right. He
couldn't help but notice that her legs were crossed and her foot was
tapping at the air. He knew she was nervous, but her face didn't
show it.

He, on the other hand, was sweating buckets. Mulder could feel the
thin trickles of sweat run down his back to collect in the waistband
of his boxers. Didn't think I'd have that sensation again, he mused
to himself as his mind flashed to the last image he'd seen on the ice
field in Antarctica.

Skinner looked up at the two of them, his expression blank. Then
he reached over to grab a file folder from the corner of his desk.

"This just came through the Syracuse office. Apparently there have
been a number of injuries in an unoccupied house in a rundown
section of town. Most recently, one of the injured parties died.
Several of the victims report seeing a 'ghostly figure' or apparition
just before sustaining their injuries. The Chief of Police up there
asked that we look into it." He handed the folder to Mulder.

Mulder looked up, confused. "Sir, I don't think this has anything to
do with domestic terrorism." He handed the file over to Scully,
who scanned it quickly.

"Of course not, Mulder. But I'm glad you could make such an
assessment that quickly," Skinner retorted, his eyes failing to mask
the twinkle they held.

"Sir, this sounds like . . . it sure seems more like . . ." Scully
stammered as she flipped pages back and forth.

"Agent Scully, for God's sakes, just say it," Skinner demanded
impatiently.

That got her. She narrowed her eyes to mere slits. "It sounds like
an X file, . . . Sir," she ground out between clenched jaws.

"Two points for accuracy, Scully," Skinner shot back. He leaned
back in his chair and crossed his arms before speaking again.

"The basement office is to remain unoccupied. The Fire Marshal
has informed us that we're damned lucky the two of you weren't in
there when the blaze started. Judging from the way the place went
up, you would have been toast. And there is only one exit.

"So I have secured an office on the third floor. It used to be a
break room before we enlarged the cafeteria. It's located close to
the labs. Of course, it's also right next to the new cafeteria wing,
so you'll be spending a lot of your time smelling the gruel-du-jour,
but it was the only space available. My assistant is making the
travel arrangements and will messenger them down to you when
they're done."

They were both too stunned to speak. After a moment, Scully
recovered. "Sir, what about Salt Lake City?"

"Nice town. Great skiing. Why do you ask?" Skinner shot back,
repressing a grin.

"Sir, my reassignment . . ."

"Scully, would you prefer reassignment to Utah? I was under the
impression . . ."

"No Sir!" she interrupted brusquely. "No, that's not what I'm
saying at all. It's just . . . Sir, I resigned!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. That must have been in the pile of papers on my
desk that mysteriously ended up in the shred bin. I'll need another
copy, if that's still your intention," Skinner said with a face of pure
innocence.

By this time, Mulder was over being perplexed and was grinning
from ear to ear. "No, Sir, I don't think that's a problem. We'll
leave as soon as possible." He got up and started to pull Scully to
her feet.

"But Mulder, the doctor. Your head. You shouldn't be working a
case in your condition . . ." Scully was still storming and Mulder
quietly ushered her out the door.

"I'm fine, Scully and you know it. Now, let's go see our new digs.
There's something I think you should see before we leave for
Syracuse."

The room had a fresh coat of paint and two shiny, new desks. A
couple of five drawer filing cabinets stood against one wall next to
a window and there were two credenzas along two other walls.
Total floor space was a little less than they had in the basement, but
for now, with no books and papers filling every available space, it
looked like a cavern. A bulletin board hung silently on the wall,
waiting to be covered.

Scully gave each desk and chair the once over, then plopped down
in the one closest to the door. She sniffed the air appreciatively.
"Chicken, Greek style. Let's grab lunch out," she grinned. "Now,
what did you want to show me."

Mulder walked over and perched precariously on the edge of her
desk. He flipped open the file Skinner had given them and pointed
to a line on the top of the page.

It was a field report, some 16 years old. The line Mulder was
pointing to contained the names of the agent or agents of record.
There, in the clear type of an IBM Selectric typewriter, were the
names S.A. Walter Skinner and S.A. Jana Cassidy.

"They were partners?" Scully hissed out in sudden realization.

"Probably not for long. If I'm not mistaken, Skinner was only
assigned to the Syracuse office for a period of about six months.
Then he was transferred to the New York office." He blushed at
Scully's accusing glare. "Hey, it was a slow news day," he
shrugged.

"So what does this mean? I mean, he . . . or rather _they_ want us
to investigate this case? They left it alone years ago."

"But there's been a murder since then, Scully. Maybe it merits our
attention," Mulder replied.

"I don't know, Mulder. I think it's more of a 'peace offering' on
Cassidy's part," Scully smirked.

"Or maybe, they're both just making sure the 'torch' stays 'lit',
Scully. Either way, I don't care. We're back and that's all that
matters."

the end

Authors note: Now, I have been accused of naming things
'vignettes' when they are in fact closer to being 'novellas'. So this
is a vignette. If somebody wants to take a crack at coming up with
the ensuing case, be my guest. Extra points for banging up Mulder
a bit, of course. Consider it a challenge. Unfortunately, my plate is
a little full and I don't have time to do it justice, but if someone else
does, I'd be honored. Have fun with it.

Vickie

"Politics is a character flaw."

George Brown, politician and former mayor.