From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Tue, 13 Jan 2009 19:18:30 -0600 (CST)
Subject: Georgetown - 1990 by 19
Source: direct

Reply To: xff19@yahoo.com


Georgetown -1990
by 19 
E-MAIL: xff19@yahoo.com 
LIVEJOURNAL: x-19.livejournal.com
DISTRIBUTION: Archive freely, just let me know where please and
thank you.

RATING: G
CATEGORIES: V, UST
KEYWORDS: M/S UST, AU

SUMMARY: Your typical agent-meets-doctor AU with a time travel
twist. Sequel to Stanford-1989

Disclaimer: X-Files characters belong to FOX Corporation and 1013
and that Chris Carter fellow. I suspect I will never make any money
doing such ridiculous things
as writing stories about old tv shows. 

Author's Notes:  This is a sequel to Stanford-1989 and will not
make many iotas of sense if you haven't read that one. 

****
Georgetown-1990
by 19
****

An unexpected error had occurred and needed to be corrected. It
would require a faithful soldier, one willing to give years of life
to the cause. 

One was approached with the task, one with no personal commitments,
a true militant for the cause. His task was twofold - to find the
one who had committed the error and send him back to their time for
punishment and to monitor the situation in the past on that speck
of rock called Earth, to report on their effects on history, to be
in position to remedy the error when called upon. 

He aimed to arrive shortly after the incident - 1988 in Earth time.

****

He had been on the run for over two years. 

His masters did not allow mistakes, especially ones as grave as
his. His ability to change appearance had allowed him to get by in
the human world but wouldn't offer much protection from his own
kind. It was only a matter of time before they came for him. 

He wondered about the woman, the one he had been sent to get rid
of. How had her life's path been changed by his mistake? 

****

Georgetown - 1990

Damn. Did she ever feel like a complete moron. 

Sure, she had made mistakes before but could not remember ever
feeling quite so inane as her head pounded with the blur of
shouting and banging emanating from outside her door. Not that she
had ever considered herself particularly savvy in love but her
strong streak of common sense had always backed her in the end. She
had certainly never played the starstruck girl falling prey to the
charm of the older man. 

Until now. 

The thunderous and incessant pounding on her door was atonally
accompanied by his belligerent shouting. The usually distinguished
Dr. Waterston was a passionate man - indeed, it had been his fervor
for medicine that had initially drawn her to him. However, that
passion had now turned in a different direction and was focused
directly on getting through her door. 

God, she felt so incredibly naive. She had truly thought a firm
goodbye and a clean split was all that was needed to forget about
her role in their indiscretion. Sure, all along she had had doubts
about his story of being long separated from his wife, that they
hadn't bothered to make it official, that his wife was involved
with another man and was living far away. But he was Associate Dean
of Surgery, an AMA award winner, not the sort of man who lied about
his life and cheated on his wife. Or so she had thought until she
picked up her phone one fateful day only to be tearfully told off
by a very angry woman not much younger than herself. 

She had immediately called him to break it off, thankful that she
had already chosen the University of Maryland to do her upcoming
residency. He had behaved fairly well the few weeks before she
left, maybe to avoid the avid hospital rumour mill. And, as she had
cancelled her lease early and stayed with various friends the last
two weeks at Stanford, he hadn't managed to track her down. 

Until she was nearly 3000 miles away.

Now there was an irate man pounding on her door and threatening her
with various forms of maniacal harm all extending from having his
evidently-frail ego crushed. She considered calling the police but
didn't really want him arrested - he had enough problems at the
moment without being charged half a country away from home. At
least her basement apartment door was far enough from others that
no neighbours would likely be reporting the commotion protruding
from her entrance area. 

If she had some sort of weapon she would have felt safe opening the
door and fighting it out with him but as it was there was nothing
except for a few boxes of books and clothes waiting to be unpacked.

She willed herself to ignore the ceaseless whacking at her door and
considered her options. The police were a possibility but only if
she got truly desperate. She almost wished her brothers were around
but knew she wouldn't have actually resorted  to calling for their
help - she had rarely played the little sister card before and
wasn't about to start being pathetic this late in life. But she was
starting to get scared - she knew how infuriated Daniel could get
and was fairly certain he wouldn't return to California without a
confrontation of some sort. Most likely of the loud and emotional
and violent sort. 

Without many other options, he mind drifted towards the wayward FBI
agent she had encountered the previous year at Stanford. She had
thought about him occasionally throughout the past year - his inane
stubbornness, his soft heart, his lopsided grin. 

She wondered if he were in the DC area - she knew that the BSU was
based in Quantico but figured he was often out of town on cases. It
was a stupid thought anyway - what would he be able to do about
Daniel? He hadn't exactly been physically menacing - in fact he had
seriously needed to put some weight on - but, then again, he did
have a gun. She couldn't believe she was actually considering
calling him. She had met him once over a year ago. He was a star
profiler and fairly adorable. He probably met dozens of adoring
women on every case. He probably didn't even remember her. She felt
pathetic even thinking about it. 

But what better options did she have? It was basically that or the
cops. She had only moved to DC a week before and knew no one there.

Her treacherous fingers were looking up the FBI Quantico phone
number even as her ego resisted. She wondered if it was even
ethical for her to be asking a former patient to do her a favour.
She supposed he was, at least, not a current patient and, as they
had
gone out for breakfast after he had been discharged, he could be
considered an acquaintance. A potentially very helpful acquaintance
in this type of situation. 

Before she could stop herself she had dialed the number and she
heard herself asking for him. It was nearly an out of body
experience - if she believed in that type of thing. Which she
didn't, of course. 

Her heart leapt into her throat when the call was picked up and she
had to seriously fight the urge to slam the phone back onto its
cradle. 

"Mulder," a tired voice answered, nearly drowned out by an angry
tirade in the background. She could hear something about needing a
profile 'yesterday' and Patterson having his balls. Combined with
Daniel still persistently banging on her door, she felt like she
was drowning in a pool of irate men. From what she remembered about
Patterson she wished she had his balls. The mere thought of his
unreasonable demands on Mulder had her seeing red and she
immediately regretted calling at all. Clearly Mulder had a lot more
to deal with than her embarrassing domestic disturbance. 

She hung up without saying a word. 

Two minutes later, as she was just about to try and bluff Daniel
into thinking the cops were coming, her phone rang. Picking it up
just to avoid dealing with the situation at hand, she breathed a
hurried 'hello' into the receiver. 

"Hey doc, you rang?" a vaguely familiar cocky voice drawled.

She felt herself blush furiously and couldn't quite come up with
anything intelligent to say. 

"Uh yes. But you sounded busy so no need to worry about it," she
finally answered hastily. 

She wondered if Mulder could hear Daniel still shouting in the
background and tried to move away from the commotion at her door. 

"I'm sorry to have bothered you - everything is fine," she
continued, trying to escape the flutters in her gastrointestinal
track that the phone call was producing. 

"Whoa - hold on there doc. Sounds like there's a whole lot of noise
going on considering you're so 'fine'. Tell me what's going on." 

"Agent Mulder, I'm sure you're a busy man with a lot more to do
than deal with my minor problem. Don't worry about it, I can handle
it on my own." 

"I'm just Mulder, remember? And you're Scully. And apparently
you're in DC. And I'm willing to bet my next twenty-two paycheques
that you wouldn't have called without a good reason. You certainly
seem very capable of taking care of yourself. You definitely took
good care of me. And I suspect you're not exactly used to asking
for help. But you called. So you must need something. And I'm not
hanging up until you tell me what it is." 

Scully sighed as she chewed on her lower lip. Her palpating heart
had jumped at the familiarity in his tone and his obvious
remembrance of her. He definitely wanted to help and he certainly
was persistent. And she did need help. 

"Fine Mulder. But I told you, it's ridiculous. There's a man at my
door and he won't leave me alone. I don't want to have to call the
police but..."

"So it's someone you know," Mulder replied knowingly. 

"Yes, it's my ex-boyfriend. I know - it's so predictable. And
embarrassing," she replied with a wince. 

"Well hang on tight. What's your address? I'm leaving now but it
could take me up to an hour to get there."

"Look, Mulder. You really don't have to..."

"Yes I do. And I'm coming whether you like it or not," he insisted.

With a final sigh, Scully gave him her address, the indignity of
playing the defenseless woman stabbing into her psyche viciously.
It wasn't in her nature to ask for help. He probably thought of her
as weak and useless. And that was the least she deserved. 

****

Mulder arrived at Scully's place about as fast as humanly possible.
He had even appropriated a car with flashing lights to enhance his
effort to shrink the distance between Quantico and DC. As he
approached her entrance he could hear the pounding and yelling from
the driveway. He felt pure fire rise in his esophagus as he heard
the threats and insults being nastily thrown in her direction. He
would have felt the anger regardless of the target but there was
something particular about the little fiery med student that really
tingled his nerves. 

He had thought of her often in the year since he had met her, a
rare happy and peaceful thought amongst the waves of horrific cases
that threatened to drown him daily. Patterson continually threw the
worst cases his way and expected him to churn out the profiles like
an automaton. And he did but he could feel the incessant tiredness,
the lack of human contact, the spiral of evil eating a hole in his
mind, his heart, his soul. He was to weary to stand up for himself,
too guilty to say no, too alone to enlist any help. She had been
the last person to stand up for him and that had been over a year
ago. She hadn't even known him but had gone out of her way to help
him. So when Patterson had tried to stop him this time on his way
out with threats and deadlines Mulder had flat out ignored his boss
and finally put his foot down. He could do for her what he couldn't
do for himself. 

And now he clenched his fists in irate anticipation as he
approached her door. 

The older man ramming his hand on the door was vaguely familiar and
didn't even notice Mulder's approach until he spoke from a metre
away.

"Hey man, it seems to me your approach isn't doing it for you. Can
I suggest less threatening and more fucking off? Mulder said
casually.  

Startled, the man turned towards Mulder and scowled. "Who the hell
are you?" he asked in a decidedly antagonistic manner. 

Not taking the bait, Mulder kept his body language loose as he
replied. 

"A friend," he said simply. 

"Well piss off. This is between Dana and me," Waterston responded,
leaning threateningly into Mulder's personal space. 

"Actually, she called me so it's between you and me now," Mulder
answered with fake congeniality as he casually let his jacket slip
open enough to expose his holstered weapon.

This backed the older man away a foot but did nothing to stem the
fury steaming out his ears. "Are you threatening me?" he bellowed
in his very best 'I'm a important person that demands respect'
manner. 

Mulder pretended to consider the question for a moment before
casually answering. 

"Yes, yes I am," he said earnestly but without animosity. 

"Do you know who I am? No little prick with a gun is going to tell
me what to do!" Waterston shouted. What was left of his composure
was slipping away by the millisecond as he turned from Mulder,
about to continue his assault on Scully's door. 

Finally Mulder put away the casual act and let his irritation shine
through. Grabbing Waterston by the shoulder, he spun him around
before speaking through gritted teeth. 

"Yeah, well at least I'm no big prick who won't take no for an
answer. The lady is NOT INTERESTED so please be so kind as to fuck
off. And if she needs to call me again you'll find out exactly how
many hours I spend at the shooting range" he growled menacingly. 

The older man's face turned a fiery shade of red and Mulder could
almost see the geysers erupting from his limbic system. However,
Waterston's fury didn't preclude his sense of survival and he
stormed off after giving Mulder a shove for good measure.  

Taking a deep breath to release the desire to maim the older man,
Mulder turned and knocked on the door quietly. 

For a few seconds he wasn't sure he would get a response but
eventually he heard the deadbolt turning and the door began
opening, slowly exposing a slightly puffy-faced redhead.

"Hey Dana, you okay?" Mulder asked anxiously. 

She responded with a scowl only barely tempered by her teariness.
"Yes, Fox, I'm fine." 

That earned her a wry grin and a knowing look. 

"Sure, Scully, whatever you say. Anyways, look - I understand if
you don't want me to come in..." he ventured apprehensively. 

She seemed to give the idea of inviting him in a tear-numbed swirl
in her neocortex  and as the responding synapses began firing she
quietly pushed open the door and silently invited him in. 

The tracks of two tears were evident on her face but otherwise she
was doing an exemplary job of hiding the effects of being berated
and threatened for hours on end by a man she thought she knew. At
least she was until a traitorous third tear winded its way onto her
cheek. 

"Hey, hey, none of that," Mulder chided gently. "The guy's just
being an ass - I recognize it well from personal experience." 

He could see the minutest of grins sneak its way onto her
still-shaken expression. 

Seeming to come back into herself after the traumatic experience,
Scully took a few deep breaths in and forced her rather significant
rational side to take over. Wiping the remaining tear from her
face, she looked up and tried to reestablish control of the
situation. 

"Thanks for coming, Mulder. I'm sure you had many things to do
other than chase someone from my door," she said evenly. 

"Than rescue a fair maiden in distress?" he replied teasingly,
wagging his eyebrows in an irritating-yet-affectionate fashion. 

Scowling at him again, Scully socked him gently on the arm. 

He made a fake owie face and held onto her wrist as she tried to
retract her arm from his grasp. 

"Look. I don't want you to think I'm being a creep but I think you
might need a hug. And I fully understand what you most likely think
of this idea. But just for the record, if you were to, say, want a
hug, I wouldn't hold it against your obviously
very-capable-of-kicking-my-butt self. In fact, we could just say
it's an enthusiastic welcome to DC..." he said with a tone that
skirted the line between sincere and sarcastic.

This earned him a muted skeptical look that he rather liked on her.
He could nearly see the neurons firing in her brain as she ran
through the possibilities. In the end she never let go of his hand
and offered no resistance as he pulled her towards him in a slow
fluid motion. 

"Hey, I'm sure you had a good reason for being with him and,
obviously, a better reason for leaving him. It's just hard for a
guy to be told no by you," Mulder said with a wink as he drew her
into her arms and offered her the comfort of human contact. 

Looking up, she delivered yet another look of pure skepticism that
he was starting to relish. "You barely even know me," she said
matter-of-factly. 

"I know enough - you're smart, you're caring, and you're probably
tougher than those king crab fishers out in Alaska. I'm sure you
leave heaps of poor saps like him trailing in your wake," he
responded surely. 

She took the opportunity to punch him lightly on the arm again as
she began to pull away from his embrace.

"Well, I don't want to keep you any longer," she said, silently
kicking herself for not being able to resist his quiet charm.
"Thanks again for coming." 

Mulder considered his options. The responsible thing would be to
report back to Patterson, pound out some profiles, sleep a few
hours, repeat. Or else he could turn off his new confounded
tracking device-come-cell-phone, and invite the fair doctor out for
walking tour of the area complete with lunch for two. He hadn't
played hooky in years. His rebellious side had succumbed to lack of
calories - evidently the best way to keep him in check was
exploiting his vulnerable guilt complex until he no longer had the
energy to sustain his tendency to buck authority. 

Yet, for some unexplainable reason, this rather straight-edge,
pretty-but-not-what-he-generally-considered-hot,
stronger-than-titanium doctor really poked him right in the heart. 

"You trying to get rid of me?" he said, only half-jokingly. "I can
assure you I can be more fun than unpacking." 

His eyes sparkled at the suggestive turn of phrase but the
sly-yet-gentle expression on his face belied any lewd
interpretation of his words. 

Scully raised a suspicious eyebrow as she tried to ascertain the
meaning behind his statement. She was rather shocked to find that
she didn't particularly want him to leave. In fact she felt oddly
comfortable around him even in her slightly vulnerable state. Which
was rare - usually she would have been actively avoiding anyone
when any hint of tears or emotionality were hovering about. 

"I'm sure you are," she replied with a knowing look. 

When he still didn't take the opportunity to leave she felt a
flutter reverberate through her stomach. "I guess I could use some
time out of here and some fresh air," she mused aloud. 

"Oh yeah? I was just thinking I needed a walking tour of the
area..." he said, the question in his eyes. 

The smallest fraction of an iota of a quirk snuck up the side of
her mouth as she allowed him to grab her jacket for her. She felt
the warmth of his hand gently guide her out the door and she
surprised herself by not moving away from his touch. 

They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes, both
feeling a connection beyond their two brief encounters. Mulder took
the time to study her countenance and was not surprised to find
barely any sign of her being affected by the events of the
afternoon. She certainly could take care of herself so he couldn't
quite locate the source of his nearly overwhelming desire to
protect her. Maybe it was because she was so obviously unwilling to
ask for help. He certainly enjoyed a challenge. Either way, he
couldn't deny the preternatural familiarity he felt as he walked
too close to her, clearly invading her personal space. 

He realized he almost felt relaxed as they walked in step and he
thought idly back to the day they had first met. A comfortable grin
appeared as he recalled his parting words to her that day.

"Told you so, Scully," he murmured softly into her ear as he leaned
into her with a closeness that would have normally resulted in
discomfort on her part. 

However, all she felt was a peculiar-yet-unthreatening intimacy as
she looked up, confusion about his apparent non sequitur etched on
her face. He didn't seem willing to offer any hints and she had to
search her memory for any insight into his comment. Finally
thinking back to the day they had first met she mentally replayed
his last words as he had jumped in his cab and the smug sureness in
his voice as he declared they would meet again someday. 

She smiled at the memory and leaned into him imperceptibly. "Yeah,
I suppose you did, Mulder," she replied. "I suppose you did." 

The End. For now. 

****
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