From: "Andreas Vesalius" Date: Fri, 30 Jun 2000 18:35:48 GMT Subject: The Estrangement of Shared Purpose (1/1) Source: direct June 30, 2000 TITLE: THE ESTRANGEMENT OF SHARED PURPOSE (1/1) AUTHOR: Vesalius E-MAIL: vesalius_wact14@hotmail.com RATING: G CATEGORY: Vignette SPOILERS: One Son KEY WORDS: SUMMARY: Yet another vignette based on the assumption that Moose and Squirrel had a big fight coming to them after One Son. ARCHIVE: Anywhere, with all the relevant details tacked on, please. DISCLAIMER: Yup, they're mine. Whoops! Freudian slip. Property of Ten Thirteen, all rights reserved, yada yada yada... Note: These humble scraps represent the first fanfic I ever attempted, though not the first I posted. Consider this a dusty, abandoned draft that I finally decided to float in the waters. FEEDBACK: Much obliged.... vesalius_wact14@hotmail.com THE ESTRANGEMENT OF SHARED PURPOSE (1/1) by Vesalius J. Edgar Hoover Building 7:20 a.m. The X-Files come at a high price. The thought ran through her mind as Dana Scully looked down at the traces of blood that were the only physical indications of foul play in Agent Spender's recent disappearance. He hadn't reported in for work since the meeting in Assistant Director Kersh's office. And although the blood type was his, no body had been found. Like father, like son. In the meantime, grumbling about "being left with little other choice" AD Kersh had agreed to the reinstatement of Agents Mulder and Scully and their assignment to The X-Files. As she looked around the basement office, Scully reflected soberly on the battle scars it had acquired. Almost a year ago, it had become a crime scene. Suspected arson. No suspects ever apprehended. And they had lost the X-Files. And now, once again – a crime scene. Suspected murder. No corpse to examine as evidence. And they had the X-Files back. But the worst scars, Scully realized, were those that her partnership with Mulder had suffered in the intervening period, when they had fought so hard to reclaim this wounded space. They had exchanged few words after meeting in AD Kersh's office. In spite of the fact that Scully understood exactly what Agent Spender's words meant to Mulder, she found herself unable to rejoice at his vindication. A part of her was happy for him, but it was the happiness that stems from relief at the cessation of suffering. Otherwise, she felt nothing but the distance that had come to be such a familiar feature between them. Unwelcome, yet all too familiar. And she knew why. Like the body which had disappeared from their office, leaving behind only traces of the violence done to it, the trust had vanished from their partnership. What had once been living and breathing had suffered several blows, and all that remained was uncertainty. Again...nothing had been confirmed or denied. Mulder had already been in the office. AD Skinner had notified both of them about their reinstatement yesterday evening, and Scully had no doubt in her mind that Mulder had reclaimed his territory that same evening and worked through much of the night. But gone now. When she was likely to arrive at the office to start the day. Most likely, he would return with a case or with more files to reconstruct. Lest idle hands create an entry for their own, shared demon – estrangement. Scully left the office briefly to get some coffee, and focus on how she would do what needed to be done. For she hadn't gone through her training at Quantico only to end up unable to perform her job effectively because of a rift with her partner. She didn't know if she could make things better – at this stage, she no longer knew what he needed to hear. But she knew what she needed to say. *** 8:05 a.m. As expected, Mulder strode into the office with a stack of case files that still needed salvaging work, glancing only briefly at his partner as he launched rapidly into speech: "Morning, Scully. I've gone through the files which haven't been fully reconstructed, and pulled the ones that seem to have any connection to the hybridization project or the plans for colonization. I think that whatever picture we can put together from these is our best bet for dealing with what we're up against." He set the stack down on his desk and continued as Scully regarded him silently: "We can divide the files between us, and if we're lucky I think we might even be able to start piecing together some answers in three weeks." "I think if we're looking for answers, we should try to find Gibson." At the sound of her voice, Mulder stopped and looked up. Scully solemnly held his gaze for a moment, and then spoke again. "And if we..." she paused briefly, placing emphasis on the "we", "are going to look for answers, we need to talk." Mulder stiffened, blinked slowly, and said quietly: "About?" "About our ability to continue working together." "Are you saying you want to quit?" "No. I'm saying I have concerns about our ability to work together effectively as partners." His jaw set, Mulder simply stared at Scully with an expression that closed off any and all emotions from her view. He said nothing, defiant, leaving her to continue the conversation. Scully felt the pit in her stomach, angry at the fact that even in this, she was alone and Mulder had no intention of helping. "Mulder, there is no question in my mind that our work, everything we have accomplished with the X-Files in the past six years, has become more urgent than ever. I want the answers as much as you do. But because I want those answers, I cannot, I will not, continue along a path unless I am confident that it will lead me to them. Although I may have doubted at first, Mulder, I shared this path with you. By doing so, I lost more than I could have possibly expected." Mulder started to protest, but Scully stopped him with a gesture and went on. "However, I have also come closer not only to the answers, but to the means necessary to deal with all of the implications of those answers. I could not have reached this point without you – without the trust that we have shared. And therein lies the problem, Mulder. It is my feeling that we no longer have a shared trust." "On what basis do you make that assumption?" His words were at once cold and enflamed. "On your unwillingness to consider the evidence I found implicating Special Agent Diana Fowley in the activities associated with the hybridization project and possible colonization." Mulder brought his hands to his hips and turned away from her, his face contorted in a smiling grimace of exasperation. "Jesus, Scully- --" "Mulder, I already know you don't want to hear this. You've already said as much. But we aren't going anywhere until I've said this. At least do me the courtesy of listening this time." Closing his eyes, Mulder sank into his chair and dropped his head into his hands. After a moment, he sat back, laced his fingers together, and looked up at Scully, his eyebrows raised impatiently. It was Scully's turn to close her eyes as she refocused. This was her partner – a man to whom she had at one time felt closer than anyone in the world. They had long since stopped tallying the times they had saved each other's lives. If possible, she wanted to salvage that. If not....Dana Scully was not going to walk away without at least some understanding of what had come between them. She grasped hold of her memories, the better to articulate what was at stake. If there were a way to render them tangible and hold them up before Mulder's eyes, she would have tried it. "Mulder, we have been here once before. When I was ready to leave, you convinced me not to go. You told me that I made you a whole person. And I believed you – because I knew that *you* had made *me* a whole person. I told you once that I wouldn't put myself on the line for anyone but you. And more than anything I still want to be able to believe that. But I don't know that I can anymore. "How can I believe that I make you a whole person when you refuse to trust my judgment – or to trust me? I felt like I had come to know you over the years. Jesus, Mulder, sometimes I felt closer to you than to my own brother. "And you've taken that away from me." She paused momentarily and looked at her partner's face for his response, but his face was completely unemotive. "When you'll neither hear me out on Diana Fowley, nor offer me an explanation of why you trust her to the point of rejecting what I have to say before I've even said it, it makes it painfully obvious to me that I don't know you at all. The worst of it is, I'm forced to question whether I ever did really know you, or if it was all a lie." "They haven't even determined whether or not her body was among the victims found at the air base!" Mulder spat bitterly, glaring at his partner. "Mulder, I know it must be difficult not to know whether she is alive. But Diana Fowley is not the issue." "Then why do you keep coming back to her?" "*I'm* not coming back to her. *You* are. The buck stops there. It seems like I make you a whole person, but only up to a certain limit. And that limit is Diana Fowley. In no uncertain terms have you shown me that I am not welcome beyond it. But *she* is not the issue. How you treat me – how you have been treating me – is." "I'm sorry. I'll be more sensitive about how I treat you the next time I pull you out of a spaceship in Antarctica." Scully caught her breath as if he had slapped her. She hadn't believed that he would stoop so low. *Nice to know your actions were so selfless, Mulder* she thought. *Since when did saving someone's life mean that you could disregard them as a friend later?* She turned and retrieved her coat and briefcase. "Goodbye Mulder. I've got some thinking to do." Mulder sat impassively as she left the office. He waited two, then three minutes after she had gone and then rose to his feet like a man about to walk to his own execution. Suddenly, in one swift motion he strode over to one of the file cabinets and began kicking it furiously. *** At The Lone Gunmen's 10:30 a.m. "I wouldn't drink that stuff, it's toxic." Frohike ignored Langley's sarcasm as he handed a cup of coffee to Dana Scully. "Bite me, Goldilocks. At least when I make it, the grounds stay in the filter." Byers pulled up a chair. "To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit?" Scully set down her coffee. "How good are your networks?" The three looked at each other, then back at Scully quizzically. "Could you find a little boy? A very exceptional boy who would most likely stick out wherever he was?" "Who are we talking about?" asked Byers. "Gibson Praise." Frohike let out a low whistle, while Langley mused, "The chess wunderkind." "And you'd like to keep this low profile?" Byers pursued. Scully frowned, choosing her words carefully. "I am no longer convinced that the avenues of investigation open to me through the FBI are the ones most likely to give me the answers I'm looking for." Again, the three looked at each other, uncomfortable yet understanding at last what she was really saying. "We'll help you." Frohike assured quietly. At that moment, Scully's cel phone sprang to life. "Scully." "Scully, it's me." "Mulder." There was an uncomfortable silence. Scully had answered out of habit, and she instantly regretted it because she wasn't ready to speak with Mulder again. She was still debating whether she should approach AD Skinner about a transfer, or if she would be able to continue in what was little more than a hollow partnership now, simply for the sake of the investigations. Mulder broke the silence. "Scully, I want to talk to you." "Mulder, we did talk." "No, we didn't. You talked. Now I want to talk. I'll come and get you – where are you right now?" "I'm at---" Scully was cut off by Byers, who grasped her wrist and shook his head. "I'll meet you at the reflecting pond." "I'll see you there in fifteen minutes, Scully." Scully switched off her cel phone and slipped it into her pocket. She looked at Byers for an explanation. "I think it would be better if Mulder didn't know you were here. He's still our friend, but at this point....you're not the only one who thinks he's a security risk." She nodded at them soberly, and then left. After she was gone, Frohike muttered "I don't think the main issue she's concerned about is security." *** The Reflecting Pond 11:05 a.m. The figure that Scully saw as she approached the bench was one she could sketch from memory. Mulder was leaning forward, his elbows propped on his knees and hands folded, staring ahead as if he were analyzing a case file in his mind. He looked up as she approached. "Where were you?" "I was thinking, Mulder. And frankly, I wasn't ready to deal with you again, so don't ask me to do the talking. You said you had something to say." Mulder closed his eyes and his body tensed. For the first time since Scully had confronted him, his face seemed to hold an expression of remorse. "Sit down, Scully." he said softly. She eased herself down onto the other end of the bench and waited. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave." "It's no longer a question of what you want, Mulder." "Scully, let me finish. Please." He took a deep breath and continued. "Scully, there is more to this than I want to explain right now. But Diana meant as much to me when she was my partner as you do now. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have been able to start investigating the X-Files. I wouldn't have started down the path which has brought me to what few answers I have about what happened to my sister. I trusted her with my life, with everything. The only other person I would say that about is you. "And if anyone were to doubt you as strongly as you've been doubting Diana, I'd be just as reluctant to listen to them." "Mulder, someone *has* made you question me. Someone *has* undermined this loyalty you profess to have for me. Diana Fowley has." "Scully....she was my wife." Scully's face remained expressionless, and she sat silently for a few moments. Then she slowly stood up and walked over to the pond's edge, looking down at the surface of the water. Mulder waited for her reaction. When she turned back to him, she asked quietly: "What does that have to do with how you've treated me as a friend and a partner over the past six months?" "It has everything to do with it!" "Why? Why, Mulder? I never asked to be your wife. But I have *earned* your respect -- more than you've given me on recent occasions. And I thought I had earned your trust. Including your ability to trust me with even your most intimate hopes and thoughts. I can see that I was wrong." "Scully, I do trust you. I *do* respect you. I'd like to be able to explain why my faith in Diana is so strong. You *have* earned the right to hear it, to hear everything. But....I can't. Not because I don't trust you, but right now I don't know if I can even trust myself any more. When one of the most important people in my life suggests that someone else who is equally important to me might have betrayed me, what am I supposed to do? I not only lose one of them – one of *you* – I lose that part of myself that was capable of trusting." Mulder's voice cracked on the last phrase. He inhaled sharply, almost painfully, and lowered his head. Scully exhaled slowly, and sat down again on the bench. For a few moments, there was a peace between them that they hadn't shared in a long while. But although Scully had concluded that, for the time being, it wouldn't be necessary for her to speak with AD Skinner, she felt that the lesions marring her partnership with Mulder were still far from healed. "Mulder, if we can set some ground rules, I can continue working with you." He looked up at her, listening numbly. "If you can't tell me anything, that's fine. But when I have something to tell you, hear me out. If you dismiss me again by claiming to have privileged knowledge about someone which you are unwilling to share with me, then consider our partnership terminated. And if we are going to work together, then we work *together*, Mulder. Regardless of your past with Diana Fowley or with anyone else, *I* have as much interest in our investigations as you do, and I've earned the right to be consulted before you bring somebody else in on a case or share evidence." Mulder nodded, holding her gaze intently. "If that's what it takes, Scully." "It's a start, Mulder. We may be able to salvage a working partnership...but I think we both know that the nature of our investigations led us to depend on something that went beyond a partnership. The big question is whether or not we can recover that." A slight hint of a grin twitched at the corners of Mulder's mouth as he looked over at his partner with a combination of hope and sadness. "I want to believe." THE END