Changes 4
By Tracy (TracyCee) (4/?)

"Diana." Fox's gaze flashed across her body, all too briefly as far as Diana was concerned. "You're looking well."

Catching sight of Dana Scully at his side, Diana forced a smile to her lips. Was the little redhead attached to Fox at the hip? She had hoped when she came back to work that she'd be able to see him alone.

She tossed her long, dark hair. "You can't keep a good agent down. I hear you had a close call of your own, Agent Scully. And here you are, back at work. I've been hearing an incredible rumor. That you claim you were actually inside an...alien spaceship?" Agent Scully's claims were patently ridiculous, and Diana didn't hesitate to allow her voice to reflect that.

"So Mulder tells me," she replied crisply. "I don't disbelieve him."

"A strong show of support," she said wryly.

Scully merely stared at her, impassive. Diana frowned inwardly, hating that she couldn't rattle the petite redhead. The woman was such an ice maiden, it was no wonder she'd been frozen in the Antarctic. And Mulder had risked his career--maybe even his life--to rescue her.

Perhaps it was time for a more direct approach. She laid a hand gently on Fox's forearm and lowered her voice to a murmur, directed only to him. "I assume you've been told? I never expected--I mean, this isn't what I wanted, Fox. Not like this."

She emphasized his first name, at the same time glancing quickly at his partner, who remained stiff as a statue beside him.

To her elation, Mulder took a half step toward her, closing the distance between them. Feeling his lean, hard body so near reminded her all too clearly how good it had been to sleep with him. The low cadence of his voice seemed to caress her, until his words sank in. "Funny coincidence, you getting the X Files after you expressed interest in them, isn't it?"

Shock coursed through her and her mouth dropped. She snapped it closed. She hadn't expected such insinuations, not from Fox. He'd always had a soft spot for her--or so she had believed. Except he never once visited her in the hospital, had just sent a smallish bouquet with an impersonal note. Worse, it had come from both him and his partner. Maybe it had even been her idea.

Her gaze flicked again to the impassive expression on his partner's face. But she wasn't blind to the flash of victory in the woman's eyes.

Before she could rally a response, Fox grasped his partner's elbow and steered her into the conference room.

"They're lovers, you know."

Fowley jerked at the sound of her new partner's voice at her shoulder. She spun to face a smirking Jeffrey Spender. "You mean..."

Spender stepped to the conference room door and peered in. "Look for yourself."

Fowley scanned the gathering of agents, not sighting them at first. Because they were sitting in the far back corner, as isolated as possible in the crowded room. They were whispering together, their heads bent so barely an inch separated them. Her stomach tightened in a knot. She watched as her ex-lover gently laid his hand on Dana Scully's arm, low on her forearm. He was practically holding her hand. They certainly looked...cozy.

Diana grimaced and looked at Spender. "They're just talking about losing the X Files. You're wrong, Spender. She's too...cold."

"Not with him. Besides, I saw them. Right in the office."

"Doing..."

"Do I have to paint a picture?" He snorted, then turned and entered the conference room. Diana followed, unable to keep her thoughts from straying to the couple in the corner. This information definitely called for a new tactic. She had the X Files, but she had wanted to be paired with Fox Mulder, not the whining political climber Jeffrey Spender.

If what Spender said was true, maybe there was a way....

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

"Okay, we can't figure out what Spender brings to the table. Fowley at least has some qualifications with her background in psi research. You've told me that much."

As she crossed toward the living room with a bowl of popcorn, Scully tried to plumb Mulder for information as casually as she could. All evening, he had avoided discussing Fowley, instead venting his anger on Spender and their new boss, Kersch. Scully wasn't sure what his silence on Fowley meant, and she wanted to know, wanted to hear him talk about the woman from his past so she could assess how he felt about Diana now. And, she hated to admit, to hear that the woman no longer meant anything to him.

She hated feeling unsettled by Diana, but was self-aware enough to understand why. Fowley had been Mulder's partner before her. Naturally she was curious, and a little jealous of their shared past. Those feelings didn't extend beyond the professional, however. They didn't.

*She calls him Fox.*

Shaking off the uncomfortable thought, she stepped behind the couch. "Mulder?"

He didn't answer. He continued to lie quietly on her couch, apparently satisfied to watch an infomercial which had come on following the movie.

She tucked the popcorn bowl in the crook of her arm and retrieved the remote from the end table. "Interested in buying hair remover? I didn't think so." She began channel-surfing, but when still no response was forthcoming, she looked down at Mulder. He had fallen asleep, his lips slightly parted, his chest rising and falling evenly, one arm draped over his forehead.

She sighed and set the bowl down. They had come here straight from work, both needing to talk about the overwhelming changes thrust upon them, both needing to verbalize their anger over having the X Files reopened only to lose them to Agents Fowley and Spender.

And to discuss how in heck they were going to be able to work for their new boss, Assistant Director Kersch, without going insane.

Without MULDER going insane, she silently corrected.

After the general meeting outlining the new organizational structure, she and Mulder had each been called into Kersch's office, separately. During her meeting with Kersch, the man had immediately gone on the offensive, laying down the law about their excessive expenditures, lack of following protocol, and general lazy attitude toward procedure. Scully got the strong impression she and Mulder had been placed with this by-the-book boss so he could whip them back into the Bureau mainstream. Or slap them down, as Mulder termed it.

Mulder had never seemed more frustrated than when he left Kersch's office--even on past cases, when following leads which didn't pan out. At least he'd been allowed to follow his heart, then. Now he was being forced into a box that he would never fit inside, not without becoming something he wasn't.

Scully wondered if, after such a drastic change, he might be the one to quit the bureau instead of her. Certainly, SHE often took comfort in rules, in the order they provided, in knowing where she stood and when she crossed the line. She could cope with Kersch and his militant attitude as long as she had to.

But Mulder? His meeting with Kersch had apparently deteriorated into an argument, and Mulder had been threatened with more than reassignment. Definitely not an auspicious first day.

Her gaze lingered on Mulder's face, finally relaxed after so many tense hours. No wonder he was exhausted. She vowed to do her best to provide a buffer between Mulder and their new boss. His protector--that was a role she had assumed willingly years ago, and it still felt right. Her gaze lingered on his slightly parted mouth, on the curve of his full lower lip. A warm rush swept through her.

She had almost kissed him. Almost. So close to changing everything between them.

Perhaps that bee sting, while it had led to something terrible, had come at the right time after all. This morning, he had made it crystal clear that the quest came first. It was all-important, and nothing should jeopardize it, certainly not sleeping with her. She knew that, knew that's how he felt. When he'd started to point out the obvious to her this morning, she had rushed to assure him she recognized their unwritten rules. And he'd been so quick to agree.

They agreed. They were on the same page. So why did keeping her distance hurt so much?

Kneeling by his feet, she laid a gentle hand on his shin. He didn't stir, so she set about untying his shoes and slipping them off to make him more comfortable. Retrieving a blanket from the closet, she draped it over him, turned off the TV, and went to bed.

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

Loud ringing cut into Scully's delicious dream and she jerked awake, her hand automatically reaching for the phone even before she was fully aware. *Mulder.* Always her first thought when the phone rang, especially when calls came at odd hours.

Before picking up the receiver, she was startled by a deep male voice mumbling inches from her ear. She froze. The call couldn't be from Mulder because he was HERE, in her bed, wearing only his boxers and a T-shirt. He was lying outside the covers, but he was holding her loosely in his sleep, his arm draped over her pelvis, his head pillowed on her breast. So, her erotic dream had sprung from this very confusing, yet potent, reality. Why was Mulder sleeping in her bed? With her?

A dim memory from the night before came back to her. Her nightmare. The one involving her cancer, and death, and a sick, crying baby she was unable to reach. Vaguely she recalled Mulder's soothing touch on her arm, his large hand stroking her head. Her fears had dissipated at his very real presence, allowing her to drift safely back to sleep. *You're his protector, but he's yours, too.* She had asked him to stay, she now remembered. Yet she hadn't meant for him to remain all night. Had she? There were certainly worse ways to spend the night than wrapped in his strong arms.

Just then Mulder shifted, his beard-roughened cheek sliding along her nightgown-covered breast and sending tingles long her skin. Her nipples tightened and her entire body heated up dangerously. You aren't supposed to be enjoying this so much, she scolded herself. Yet she had the almost overwhelming urge to wriggle beneath him, to seek greater contact between their bodies.

The phone rang again, causing Mulder to stir and roll over, away from her, leaving her feeling bereft and a good deal colder. Scully carefully lifted the receiver off its cradle and spoke tentatively into it, hardly daring to breathe. If Mulder woke up now, what would he say? How would he react? What would SHE say? "Hello?" she whispered.

"Scully?"

Skinner. "Yes, sir."

"I apologize for calling so early, but I need you to come to my office before work. I have to speak with you and Agent Mulder. Can you be here by 7?"

She glanced at the clock. 6 a.m. "I'll do my best."

"Where's Mulder? He's not answering his phone. I want him there, too."

Scully looked down at Mulder. "I'll let him know."

A long pause, then a terse, "Right." Scully listened to the dial tone for a moment, wondering why Skinner sounded even more short-tempered than usual. Why did he want to talk to them? They didn't report to him anymore.

No wonder he wanted to see them before Kersch arrived. This meeting was no doubt off-the-record.

She replaced the receiver and turned to find Mulder sitting up, his keen eyes on her. His thick hair stood out on his head in a dozen different directions. She fought the almost overwhelming urge to reach over and smooth it into place. His eyes seemed to be questioning her. Asking... What was he asking?

Caught by his intense gaze, her heart began to pound. Until she realized he was wondering about the call. He wanted to know who would phone her so early on a weekday. Other than him, of course.

She fought to remain calm, to pretend it wasn't unusual to wake up together in bed. She adopted a crisp professional tone. "That was Skinner. He wants to meet with us, before work."

"Can't get enough of us, hmm?" With a wry grin, Mulder stood up and headed for the bathroom. As the door closed, Scully let out a sigh of relief. Just like that, they were past the sticky part. Both of them had completely ignored the fact they'd shared a bed.

She fought down a niggle of disappointment at how unaffected Mulder had been at the intimate situation. That's how she wanted it, she reminded herself fiercely. That's how they BOTH wanted it.

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

Skinner took forever to get to the point. Mulder waited, outwardly appearing cool but inwardly braced for whatever bombshell the assistant director planned to drop. What would it be this time? The X Files had gone up in smoke, and while the division had since been reopened, he and Scully had been reassigned. At least the worst thing hadn't happened, he reminded himself, his gaze sliding to Scully sitting serenely beside him. They were still a team.

Skinner shuffled a stack of papers on his desk, his gaze darting to the clock on the wall as if aware it was ticking. Finally, he began. "It's been brought to my attention that a...personal..situation is in danger of becoming...problematic."

Mulder met Scully's equally confused gaze. He knew she was just as unused to seeing Skinner grope for words. Mulder gave him a little prod. "What situation are you talking about? Sir," he added as an afterthought.

"You two." His blunt words made Mulder stiffen. A sense of dread began winding its way up his spine. He had a strong feeling he wouldn't like whatever was coming next.

"Sir?" Scully asked, her expression innocent, mystified.

"You were seen."

Mulder arched his eyebrows and leaned forward, to encourage Skinner to continue.

"In your office. Yesterday. Engaging in..." Again Skinner's gaze flicked away as he sought the right words. "Non-work behavior."

Mulder snorted. "What, someone saw me throwing darts at my picture of George McCarthy? Or eating a tuna-fish sandwich?"

Skinner's eyes became icy. "Dammit, Mulder, don't play dumb. You know exactly what I'm talking about!" His voice softened slightly as he turned to Scully. "You, too, Scully." He sighed and rubbed his bald pate. "I know we haven't addressed this before. I would have preferred things to remain as they were, by mutual unspoken agreement. Believe me, I don't need this, and I don't really care what you do on your off-hours. I considered it none of my business as long as you both performed to standards. But you're not working for me anymore, and others may not look so kindly on such a...liaison. Now you've only made it worse for yourselves. You've been seen, here at work, and people are talking."

Scully shifted in her seat. "Sir, are you saying you think Agent Mulder and I..." She faltered, as if unable to say the words. Mulder didn't dare look at her, afraid to put an even deeper dent in her composure.

Skinner wasn't so sanguine. "Come on, Scully," he said brusquely. "Let's quit pussyfooting around here. I know you two are in love with each other. Any idiot can see it! But don't bring your affair into the office!"

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