Changes 14
by MaryAnn (mapbisac)

After a few moments, the life support monitors, black and silent as mirrors at midnight, flickered and beeped tentatively. The technician jumped back involuntarily, unable to comprehend the process set into motion by the injection. A tray of stainless steel surgical instruments crashed to the floor, an audible exclamation point punctuating the irreversible step toward the brave new world created by the nameless men observing the operation. Harper glared at the technician intensely and gestured towards the observation room.

The tiny girl lying on the operating table, cold and lifeless only moments earlier, slowly opened her eyes. Her unearthly pallor gave way to an equally unnatural ruddy complexion. Her limbs twitched and her eyelids lifted slowly and awkwardly.

The Smoking Man looked at his young companion and smiled. The experiment they both had just witnessed must have met his expectations. Krycek responded with an involuntary sneer.

"You've just witnessed history, Mr. Krycek," the Smoking Man said smugly. "A moment in time more significant than the bombing of Hiroshima."

Krycek met his eyes and said, "Undoubtably with significantly more fallout than Hiroshima, too. You injected a living child."

"Living as defined by who, Mr. Krycek?" You can look at her charts yourself. There was absolutely no brain activity. Her circulatory and respiratory systems were completely shut down. Would it have been better to let her die in vain?" Krycek remained impassive. The Smoking Man smiled smugly and turned his attention to the child in the operating theater. "We'd like to see the girl - speak to her. Have her ready in an hour."

******************

Agent Spender was irritated. Diana's clutter was everywhere. "For God's sake, Diana, can't you keep your crap on your side of the room?" He held up a Victoria's Secret catalogue that was stashed between two olive green pendaflex files. He threw is carelessly across the room.

"I thought you'd be interested in page 54, Jeffrey," Diana said menacingly. "Garter belts and fishnet stockings."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He was losing patience with his partner. He lifted a large potted plant from his desk and carried it across the room. He dropped it on her desk, and damp potting soil splattered across her message pad.

"You mean you don't know?" Diana teased. "Your ambition to succeed at the FBI hasn't been lost on the rank and file." Jeffrey stared at her blankly as he transferred a large cardboard box filled with surveillance equipment to her end of the room. She snickered. Her partner was clueless, as usual.

"Don't know WHAT, Diana?" Spender asked, exasperated. He almost tripped over a plastic milk crate filled with women's shoes, mostly stiletto heeled pumps.

"What the other agents call you," Diana said smoothly. She enjoyed irritating her partner. She took off her shoes, navy blue pumps, and casually tossed them one by one into the milk crate.

"No, I don't, Diana, and I don't particularly care, either," he said unconvincingly. Diana almost exploded with bitter laughter. She would allow herself that indulgence later, after she left the office. She opened her top desk drawer and took out a makeup compact and some lipstick. She studied her image in the mirror. Her veneer was seamless, as usual. She reapplied finishing powder and lipstick, sealing in the spiteful anger that threatened to escape through her pores and betray her. She closed her compact with a snap and fondled it appreciatively. Dorian Gray Cosmetics have served her well.

"Gender Bender Spender," Diana delivered without a trace of mirth.

Spender let the small tower of used styrofoam coffee cups fall lightly near Diana's feet. His face involuntarily contorted to reveal an unlikely combination of wrath and pain. "And I suppose YOU know the reason why," he hissed.

"Because you're going to be the next J. Edgar Hoover, Jeffrey," she said sarcastically. "You're the Bureau's brightest rising star, so it's only natural that you dress accordingly." She tossed her tube of lipstick at him and he reflexively caught it. "Mata Hari Frost," she said as Jeffrey read the bottom of the tube before firing it across the room in disgust.

The tube hit glass and metal with the inimitable sound of a miniature car crash. Assistant Director Skinner tore off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose while inspecting the damage. "What the hell is going on in here Agent Spender?" he barked angrily. Diana shrank down into her seat silently while Jeffrey's mouth moved noiselessly, like a goldfish in a bowl.

"I'm sorry, sir, we were just cleaning the office to make room for Agents Mulder and Scully," he said finally. Diana smirked.

Skinner glared at both Fowley and Spender. He had an urge to bang both of their heads together, but it quickly passed. "I'm glad to hear it, because they're on their way down here right now."

**************

"Honey, we're home!" Mulder said exuberantly as he dropped a large box on Spender's desk. Scully was unable to stifle a smile as she followed him into the room, leading the way for a crew of maintenance personnel trailing with a cart of computer equipment that needed to be set up. "You can set those up here," Mulder said, gesturing to the large desk with Janet Reno's portrait looming behind it. He lifted up Spender's name plate and tossed it towards him. "Heads up!"

Spender tried to snatch the plate but it bounced off his chin and clattered to the floor. Diana reached for it and held it towards her chest protectively. "It's going to be a little crowded in here," she said, speaking to no one in particular but looking directly at Scully.

*********************

"So, what do you think of our new home?" Mulder asked as he finished the last bite of his sandwich and leaned back in his chair to survey the half-empty cafeteria.

"It's very ... green," Scully said, smiling. "And we're going to have to do something about the ventilation. I don't know if my sinuses can handle the potent combination of Aqua Velva and Poison."

Mulder smiled broadly. His unspoken concern about his newly acknowledged and consummated relationship with his partner interfering with his ability to concentrate was rapidly dissipating. Maybe it was the small victory gained in their reassignment to the X Files, despite the addition of Diana and Spender, that had jump started his interest in work again. Maybe it was the knowledge that he and Scully weren't going to be separated after all. He felt confident and optimistic for the first time in months, maybe years.

Scully, on the other hand, seemed somewhat preoccupied. She pushed the remains of her salad around with her fork absently as she watched her partner. He was smiling, his body language open and receptive to her. All lingering doubts about his allegiance to Diana disintegrated when he curtly asked her to call him Special Agent Mulder instead of Fox. Still, she felt vaguely disoriented all day. She reminded herself that so much had happened in the past several days that she hadn't had time to adequately process it all. Feeling out of sorts was perfectly natural, given the circumstances.

Mulder brought her out of her reverie by gently lifting her chin so she would look at him. "What's on your mind, Scully?" His voice was low, his tone intimate.

Before she could stop them, the words, "I'm fine, Mulder," escaped from her lips lightly, like butterflies suddenly freed from a net. She felt the warmth of his hand upon her own, and she was suddenly aware that she had been clasping the small gold cross on her necklace between her fingers. She let the cross drop gently, and she squeezed Mulder's hand briefly before she added, "I'm just a little tired."

He nodded, silently urging her to elaborate, even though her words were more than sufficient to describe how they both felt. Scully met his gaze and their eyes lingered, searching for words that hadn't yet formed. She saw the source of her anxiety reflected in Mulder's eyes. He already knew that the missing piece to Scully's puzzle was the little girl, Emily.

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