From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 19 Jul 2007 16:05:17 -0000 Subject: NEW - Draw the Line by Michelle Kiefer by michelle kiefer Source: direct Reply To: msk1024@yahoo.com Title: Draw the Line Author: msk Email: msk1024@yahoo.com Rating: R Keyword: M/S, M/Fowley, Angst Spoilers: Terms of Endearment Notes: This is the second in a series of stories, following "Inextricable." Some readers may prefer to wait until the entire series is posted. Huge thanks to Kel for beta and support. "You'll pursue a case at the expense of everything, to the point of insanity, and expect me to follow you. There has to be somewhere to draw the line" Dana Scully, Colony She wasn't drunk. While she couldn't be described as perfectly sober, Scully was not drunk. She took another sip of wine, golden warmth drifting through her body. She pictured it radiating from her stomach, streaming down to her toes and out to her fingertips. No, she wasn't drunk and she didn't intend to become so. She was on her second glass of Bordeaux and had reached the point where her life blurred enough to be tolerable. Damn, it was hard to stay right there. Two weeks ago, she'd seen Mulder and Diana Fowley in the Hoover's parking garage. In that one moment, the bond that she'd believed inviolate had unraveled, leaving her adrift. More and more often, she'd found herself decompressing with a couple of glasses of wine at the end of the day. She'd been very strict with herself--two glasses and no more. Just enough to be able to fall asleep. Scully raised the glass, gently swirling the ruby liquid. She'd been in a kind of holding pattern, trying to decide what to do. With Mulder giving their assignment barely a token effort, the bulk of the work fell to Scully, and she was rapidly burning out. She'd begun to scan the postings of open government positions for anything that might spark her interest. To her surprise, Mulder had actually pulled her into an X-File that he'd uncovered, something that Agent Spender had trash-canned. Mulder hadn't said why Diana Fowley wasn't at his side as he investigated Wayne Weinsider. More than likely, Diana wasn't interested in anything that wouldn't advance her position. Mulder's tendency to get into trouble with higher-ups could be a real career killer, as Scully knew far too well. At any rate, he'd finally remembered he had a partner. Scully still wondered why she'd allowed herself to be drawn into the case. Had she missed the thrill of breaking the rules? Or was it her own curiosity about the unknown? Maybe she hoped to recapture the closeness she and Mulder had once shared. Unfortunately, that closeness eluded her and all she had been left with was a feeling of unutterable sadness as she knelt in a makeshift graveyard brushing dirt from tiny bones. The memory of that was almost too much to bear, and Scully poured herself another glass of wine. She took a sip and rested her head against the back of the sofa. Hell, she'd made it through the entire week. Surely that merited another drink. The knocking jolted her out of the wine's haze. She had to squint to see the digits on her clock. 8:30. Who'd be knocking on her door at 8:30 on a Friday night, and very insistently, too. "Scully! Hey, Scully, are you in there?" She stumbled to the door, straightened her clothes and tucked her hair behind her ears. She toyed with the idea of not answering, but Mulder would probably let himself in if she didn't respond. "What are you doing here, Mulder?" she asked as she held the door open. As he shouldered past her, she caught a hint of his aftershave. "I was in the mood for pizza," he said, gracing her with his most engaging smile. He held a deliciously fragrant box in front of him like a peace offering. "I thought you might be hungry." "Diana let you off the leash?" she asked, instantly regretting the wine that seemed to have switched off her internal censor. She watched a momentary flash of surprise cross Mulder's face before his poker face slammed closed like a gate. "Sorry," she offered, heading for the kitchen and hoping with all her might that she didn't appear unsteady. She grabbed a couple of plates and some napkins. "Do you want a beer?" "Sure," he called out. She grabbed one by its long neck and a water for herself. She needed to keep her wits about her. The wine felt like it was still drifting through her system, unlocking doors, opening windows. He'd removed his leather jacket and made himself comfortable on her sofa. He sat on the end, probably hoping she'd drop down next to him, but Scully wasn't sure she could handle that much proximity. She handed Mulder his beer and curled up on the easy chair opposite him, opened her water. Taking a long drink, she was surprised at how thirsty she was. She opened the box and deposited a couple of slices on each plate. She wasn't very hungry but perhaps the pizza would counteract the alcohol in her system. His eyes were on her every time she looked up from her pizza. His undivided scrutiny wasn't something she was used to when they were on the best of terms. Now, it downright unnerved her. "So, really, Mulder, what brought you here?" "I didn't think I needed a reason," he answered, softly. "I guess I missed you." "You missed me?" she asked, bitter laughter threatening to spill out of her. "You make it sound like I've been gone, Mulder. I was right in the office, every day. If you missed me, maybe you weren't looking for me very hard." Scully dabbed her napkin to her lips, her eyes cast down to the plate on her lap. One slice of pizza remained on the plate, naked without the cheese she'd picked off. He sighed and caught her glance. She wasn't making this easy for him. "I did have an ulterior motive for coming here. I have some pretty great news." "Okay, Mulder. Spill it." "Diana says that Jeffrey Spender wants off the X-Files. He's got an opportunity in Intelligence. Might be a fast track position to the fifth floor." "As 'pretty great' as that is, Mulder, why would I care about Spender's ambitions." Scully set her plate down on the coffee table, folding her napkin on top. "Oh wait, I get it. That leaves an opening in the X-Files and Diana's promised it to you." "To us. She's going to try to get both of us reinstated, Scully." "Both of us?" Scully asked, cocking her head to the side. "And this was her idea?" Mulder looked away. "Not initially, no. But I told her how important you are to the X-Files and she agreed that we need your rationality and independent data. I told her how much I need you." The laughter she'd suppressed a moment ago escaped and she leaned back against the sofa, giggling. "God, I hope you didn't sacrifice your virtue on my behalf." "What are you talking about?" "Never mind," she said, catching her breath as the laughter subsided. "No, Scully. I want to know. How is my virtue involved here?" She brushed nonexistent crumbs off her lap, trying to compose herself before speaking. "I saw you," she said. At his puzzlement, she went on. "A couple of weeks ago--in the parking garage. I saw you and Diana. So tell me, Mulder--was that how you persuaded her to take the baggage of your old partner back on the X-Files?" "What you saw...it didn't mean anything." "It sure looked meaningful from where I stood," she said. He studied the backs of his hands as if unable to meet her eye. His discomfort gave her more pleasure than she would have admitted to. She couldn't stay where she was for a second longer. Scully pushed herself out of her chair, carrying the plates into the kitchen. At the sink, she turned the hot water tap as far as it would go and watched the water and steam roil as the dishpan filled. "I was angry," Mulder said behind her. "Confused. I felt like I'd lost everything that mattered to me." "You don't owe me anything, Mulder," she said through clenched teeth. "Certainly not an explanation." She twisted the faucet, cutting off the rush of water. Steam continued to rise, clouding her vision, but to turn around would mean looking into Mulder's eyes, and she didn't want to do that. His hands were on her shoulders as he stood behind her. She shrugged away from his touch, crossing the room to put some distance between them. "On second thought, maybe I do want an explanation," she said. "This summer you told me how important I was to you, how much my work had helped you. What was that, Mulder? A ploy to keep me from leaving?" "I meant it. Every word." "You were going to kiss me that day. Did you mean that, too?" He nodded, his eyes locked on hers. "But not, apparently, all that much. Not when Diana Fowley dangled the only thing that really mattered to you." "Scully, none of this really matters. The important thing is we have a chance to get back on the X-Files." "She's playing you, Mulder. I don't believe she has that kind of pull." "Apparently AD Cassidy has a lot of confidence in her. Diana was told she could use her discretion when it came to staff." "It's not going to happen." "I know it's a long shot, what with everything that happened last summer, but Diana said she would do her best." "I don't think you're getting it, Mulder. Even if she was serious, and not just leading you on, I have no interest in tagging along after the two of you like a kid sister." "It doesn't have to be a rivalry, Scully. We'd be a team." "This isn't some petty jealousy, no matter what you think." "You don't like her. I get that, Scully. I don't understand why--she's never done anything to you. Diana's willing to make this work. Why can't you keep an open mind?" Scully's hand twitched as she indulged in a short fantasy of punching Mulder in his exasperated face. She wished she could explain her feelings for Diana Fowley in a way that Mulder would understand. A "gut feeling" just wasn't going to suffice. "This isn't about whether I like Diana. Lord knows, I've worked with people I couldn't stand. This is about trust. I can't work with someone I don't trust. And we'd report to her? How long do you think it would be before she sent me into a situation that I don't survive?" "That's unfair, Scully. Diana would never do that." "How many times over the years have you asked me to follow your instincts? Not the evidence, not the proof, but your gut feelings. And I've done it. I risked my career and my life more times than I care to remember. But this is about my instincts and they tell me that this woman is dangerous. Tell me, Mulder--why should I trust your instincts over my own?" He blew out a frustrated breath, raking a hand through his hair. "So, this all comes down to me choosing between you and Diana. That's what you've been trying to get me to do all along." "No, Mulder. This is my choice, not yours." Hands clenched into fists, she stepped closer and looked into Mulder's face. "I will not work with Diana Fowley, and I certainly will not work for her." Mulder's eyes flashed with anger as he looked down at her. For a moment, she was afraid he would touch her and she didn't think she could stand that. As the implications of her statement penetrated, his expression changed to stunned sadness. "But I still end up having to choose. You or the X-Files. Scully...I can't do it." "I guess you're going to have to," she said, the gentleness in her voice surprising her. His pain was obvious and she could never stand to see him hurting, even when he brought it on himself. Why did he have this affect on her? Seconds ticked by in silence as the air between them grew thick with tension. A part of her wanted to reach out to him, but she wrapped her arms around her midsection instead. "I...I guess I better go," he said. "Yeah," she said. "I think that's probably for the best." He grabbed his jacket and moved to the door. Before she had a chance to open it, he pulled her into a fierce hug. As she felt his warm breath against her neck, Scully wondered if he was trying to hold on to her, or trying to say goodbye. "Goodnight," he said, with one final squeeze. She locked the door behind him. Resting her palms lightly against the wood, she closed her eyes. Continued in Buried Deep.