======== Disclaimer: The X-Files and the characters we all know and love therefrom (namely Scully, Mulder, Skinner, Cancerman and Colton) are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended. The lyrics to 'The Last Exit To Eden' (which inspired this story) belong to Sony Music Entertainment, I think. The song is on Amanda Marshall's self-titled CD. No copyright infringement is intended here either. Category: V, A Rating: PG-13, I've used the F-word in here. Summary: Scully agonizes over being transferred. Spoilers: Occurs after the events in Terma, so anything before that might come up. Comments, abject praise and virtual chocolate welcome at tthwaite@banff.net. Flames will be cheerfully ignored unless they are funny enough to grab my attention. Mairi Dennehy Ch 1: The Last Exit To Eden by tj thwaites A motel just off Hwy 81, 30 miles east of Knoxville, TN Dana Scully dropped her suitcase to the floor of her motel room with a thump. She was tired from the first four hundred miles of her cross-country trek. But she knew a car was indispensable in LA and driving hers rather than flying, getting a rental, and waiting for it to be shipped had seemed like a good idea a few days ago. She flopped down on the bed and tried to wall away the memories of how she ended up in this traveler's way station. Alone. Transferred. The tears welled up in her eyes as the memories came despite her. Or perhaps *to* spite her. she raged silently to herself, She got up off the bed and began pacing about the room as the memories tormented her anew. Scully was lost inside her own mind, endlessly replaying the disaster. After nearly two years of careful discretion and occasionally elaborate lengths to keep their relationship a secret, it was all crashing in ruin. She and Mulder had been caught in bed together. And now she was being transferred clear across the country to the Los Angeles field office's pathology department. It had all started out innocently enough, a request by the VCS for help from 'the Spooky Patrol' on a serial killing in Philadelphia. Even relegated to the basement office of the X-Files, Mulder was still regarded as one of the best (and surprisingly enough, by a few people as *the* best) profilers ever employed by the Bureau. And Scully had been pleasantly surprised to find *her* expertise in forensic pathology regarded nearly as valuable. The fact that Tom Colton had also been on the team had been only a minor annoyance at first. But his constant snide remarks and attempts to denigrate Mulder had finally caused her to tell him exactly what she thought of him. At length. In no uncertain terms. At least she'd maintained enough professional decorum to tell him off in private. It had been sheer bad luck that it had been Colton who'd accidentally walked in on her and Mulder. They hadn't heard him knock on the door to Mulder's motel room. It was totally in keeping with Colton's attitude toward Mulder that he would try the door and walk in when he found it unlocked, probably hoping he would be waking Mulder up in the process just to annoy him. Seeing that Mulder wasn't in his bed, Colton had proceeded to walk through the connecting door to Scully's room. They'd both been shocked when the opening door had allowed a splash of light from Mulder's room to illuminate them, wrapped passionately in each other's arms. The shock had been mirrored briefly on Colton's face as well, but had been quickly replaced by a calculating expression that had told both Scully and Mulder that their secret would soon be out. If it had been someone else, they might have been able to persuade him or her to forget the incident. But not Colton. Sneering a sarcastically insincere apology for interrupting them, Colton had turned and left. The next morning, while ostensibly wishing them a safe journey back to DC, he had gone out of his way to make sure he'd mentioned their liaison in such a way that it was overheard by the Agent in Charge of the case. And that had led to an official investigation by the Office of Professional Conduct. Two months ago there had been an informal investigation into a possible 'inappropriate' relationship between the two agents assigned to the X-Files, an investigation stemming from the hug they had exchanged in the Senate committee hearing room. Scully was sure (in her own mind, at least) that Cancerman had been the instigator of that fishing expedition by someone in the Bureau's General Accounting Office. Someone who'd accessed all her and Mulder's expense reports, paying particular attention to hotel room receipts. They hadn't actually found anything compromising; she and Mulder had always been careful to book two rooms and sleep separately (even if they didn't always spend the *whole* night in separate beds). When Skinner had caught wind of the GAO's probe, he had called the two of them into his office. ****************************************************************** Skinner's office- six weeks earlier Walter Skinner reread the interoffice memo as he waited for Agents Mulder and Scully to arrive. It seemed that someone in OPC had requested that the GAO investigate all expense reports filed by the X-Files division. he thought, resigned. But there was something different about the tenor of this particular probe. More focus was being placed on the more personal claims, hotel rooms, meal expenses, etc. Then he saw the one receipt that seemed to explain the goal of the investigation. He looked up at the knock on his door. "Enter," he called. The door opened and Mulder and Scully walked in, puzzled looks on their faces. He understood their confusion. For them, the past two weeks had been devoted to paperwork for the most part. Not something which allowed them to get into their usual trouble. They sat at his gesture and waited patiently. "Agents Mulder and Scully," he began, "Something has come to my attention that concerns the two of you." Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance, wondering what was going on. Skinner seemed slightly flustered, something so out of character for him that they started to become seriously worried. "It seems that the Office of Professional Conduct has directed the General Accounting Office to review your expense reports," he paused, clearing his throat, "Apparently, the focus of this probe is any information which may constitute evidence of a possible inappropriate relationship between the two of you." "Inappropriate relationship, sir?" Scully asked, "What do you mean?" she thought, "Someone seems to think that your little display in the Senate Committee room indicates that your partnership is more than professional," Skinner explained. Both Scully and Mulder relaxed slightly. "So this is a fishing expedition, sir?" Mulder asked quietly. "There's nothing for them to find, sir," Scully added. she thought. "You're certain of that? Both of you?" Skinner asked. They both nodded in reply. "Very well. That will be all, Agent Mulder. I just have one more thing to discuss with Agent Scully. It should only take a few minutes." Mulder rose and walked to the door. He paused, one hand on the knob and looked back at Scully. Skinner could almost sense the silent communication passing between them. After Mulder had closed the door behind himself, Skinner began flipping through the papers on his desk. "Sir?" Scully asked after a minute. She wondered what was so important about the single sheet that seemed to have commandeered her superior's attention. She was surprised by his expression when he finally met her curious gaze. He looked almost....embarrassed. "This seems to be the primary cause for the allegations, Agent Scully," he stated, handing her the sheet. It was a photocopy of a receipt, billed to her Bureau credit card, from a pharmacy. A receipt for certain personal items, the entry for birth control pills highlighted. "There should be something else attached to this, sir," she answered his unspoken question, "I used my expense card by mistake for this. I have notified accounting and reimbursed the account by check weeks ago. A copy of my memo and a photocopy of the check should have been attached to this receipt, sir. And, with all due respect, sir, the fact that I am taking the pill is nobody's business but mine." "I can understand that, Agent Scully. But you can see how that particular item showing up on your expense report would raise a few eyebrows, especially after the Senate hearing." "My personal life does *not* affect my work, sir, and I intend to keep it private. I have neither the time nor inclination to pay any attention every time the ridiculous *rumour* that I'm sleeping with Mulder starts making the rounds." Scully sat back in the chair, firmly taking control of her temper. She had always known that the Consortium kept tabs on her and Mulder, but this latest example of just how close tabs they were keeping infuriated her. They *must* have somebody on their payroll in the OPC or GAO. Possibly both. Skinner watched her reign herself in. He knew she didn't like to lose her temper. Didn't like to admit a loss of control. And he wasn't sure he liked himself at this moment as he decided to take advantage of the opening she'd left. "*Are* you sleeping with Agent Mulder, Agent Scully?" Scully's jaw dropped open. she thought, "Sir!" she exclaimed, standing up and trying to force believable outrage into her voice, "How can you ask that? We've just told you that there's nothing for the GAO to find." "That doesn't answer the question, Agent Scully," Skinner replied calmly, "I want a yes or no answer. *Are* you and Agent Mulder sleeping together?" Scully thought, "No, sir," she answered, trying to keep her face impassive so as to not betray the lie. Skinner eyed her closely. "Very well, Agent Scully, that will be all. Dismissed." After Scully had left his office, Skinner sat for a moment replaying the final few minutes of the interview. He was a little surprised that he wasn't entirely sure she had spoken the truth. But she was right about there being nothing incriminating for the GAO to find. Outside Skinner's office, Scully drew a ragged breath. She really hated having to lie to Skinner, someone she respected a great deal. she rationalized, ****************************************************************** The OPC's official investigation had much more damning ammunition, Colton's sworn testimony that Agents Mulder and Scully had been interrupted in the middle of an act of intercourse by his arrival in their hotel room with new information revealed during the suspect's confession. It didn't matter to the OPC that, with the suspect in custody and making a full confession, Scully and Mulder had been released from the VCS team to return to Washington. Or the fact that it was after one o'clock in the morning and Colton hadn't even knocked before entering the room of a female agent. All they were concerned with was the fact that a partnered pair were having sex with each other. No action was being taken against Colton for *his* inappropriate actions. The revelation, made in an effort to show that their personal lives were *not* interfering with their work, that the pair in question had been maintaining a sexual relationship for the past two years while simultaneously maintaining their outstanding record of an 87% solve rate on the cases they worked on hadn't cut any ice. It had only resulted in a letter of reprimand being placed in Scully's personnel file for lying in response to a direct question from her superior. Scully hadn't wanted to listen to the tiny voice in the back of her mind when the board had recessed until the next morning. A voice which gloomily reported that she and Mulder would be split up. And the voice had been correct. Scully was suddenly dragged back to reality by the noise of the person in the room above her stomping about and shouting unintelligibly. She turned on the radio to drown out the noise. She turned back to the window as the music blared in the background of her mind. she seethed silently, staring out the window at the stand of dogwood trees across the parking lot from her room. The beautiful panorama of the Great Smoky Mountains ignored as her mind continued its seemingly endless circuit. The lyrics to one of the songs wormed its way into her mind. The serendipity caused Scully to snort wryly. The walls are thin here in this motel room Some fool is raging overhead He's preaching the gospel according to Johnnie Walker Red Four hundred miles talking to myself Me and your memory end up here I tell myself I'm gonna be alright But it's still not clear Scully glanced once at the ceiling. Her upstairs neighbour was still raving away unintelligibly. Her mind returned to her parting with Mulder. It had been a bitter, acrimonious affair. Their one lapse had ruined everything. The X-Files had been closed. Mulder had been reassigned, again saddled with the scut jobs no one else wanted. And the powers that be had even nailed the coffin shut on their personal relationship by transferring Scully out to the west coast instead of back to Quantico like the last time the X-Files had been shut down. If she'd been sent to Quantico, she and Mulder might have been able to continue seeing each other. But apparently she and Mulder were to be 'punished' for their 'indiscretion' and being on opposite coasts was the appropriate sentence. Scully once again thought back to the morning after the hearing when the board announced its decision. She'd thought long and hard about what to do next. Agonized over it. She'd even been briefly tempted to just resign and try to find another job in the DC area so she and Mulder could stay together. She'd even gone so far as to suggest to him that they *both* resign and try to have a 'normal' life for a change. He had seemed to give the suggestion consideration. But he had ended up talking her out of resigning, saying that they had to hold on to hope. That they could get the X-Files reopened at some later date and they could return to working together. Did I just miss The last exit to Eden Is this the only love I'll know Like a Judas kiss Did my heart betray me Back on the road I never chose Later, when Mulder had come over to help her pack, she had again broached the subject of the personal cost of their separation. And what she feared as its probable outcome. She knew Mulder was capable of holding on to an irrational hope for an impossible length of time. His search for Samantha was ample evidence. It had been almost 25 years since she'd disappeared, yet he was still convinced he would some day find her. Alive. Scully knew she wouldn't be able to hold on to hope for a future with Mulder like that. Lately, she'd taken to listening to the faint echoes of the ticking of her biological clock in the hope that she and Mulder could someday (hopefully sooner than later) settle down together and start a family. But that hope was all but destroyed. Cancerman and his cronies would undoubtably use their influence to *keep* the X-Files closed for longer than she and Mulder could remain close via Ma Bell and their infrequent vacation time. Time and distance would eventually end their relationship. If it hadn't been killed already. ****************************************************************** Scully's apartment- previous night Dana Scully stood at her kitchen table, carefully wrapping the last few glasses in newspaper before placing them in the cardboard box. She could hear Mulder in the living room, taping some of the other boxes closed and stacking them near the hall for orderly transfer to the moving truck in the morning. Closing the flaps on the box of glasses, she turned toward the living room. Bracing herself, she carried the box to place it on the stack with the others. "I *hate* this, Mulder," she said quietly, turning to see a matching expression on his face. "So do I, Scully," he replied, "But there's not much we can do about it right now." "Right now?" "In a couple of months, maybe, after things calm down a bit. We might be able to do something then." Scully couldn't believe what she was hearing. Anger flared as she realized that Mulder actually *believed* that. "'After things calm down', Mulder?" she began, her voice tight with barely controlled rage, "*Things* aren't going to calm down! This isn't like one of our cases where they've managed to destroy the evidence. *This* time, we've given that black-lunged bastard *precisely* the ammunition he's been salivating for. Ammunition you know damned well he's going to use to *keep* the X-Files closed and *us* spilt up. Permanently." "Don't say that, Scully," Mulder responded hotly, "We've been through too much together to give up *now*." "I'm not giving up, Mulder," Scully's voice rose to almost a shout, "I'm facing facts! And so should you! They've *won*. The X-Files are closed. We've been disgraced. The Bureau is *never* going to let us be partners or work closely together again. Especially not on any attempt to get the X-Files reopened. "What matters now, Mulder, is where we go from here. What we want from the future. And each other," she continued, her voice softening, almost pleading, "Haven't you wanted to try to have a semi-normal life? You know? The two of us together, a nice house." She paused a moment, then confessed a desire she hadn't wanted to bring up previously, "Maybe get married? Have kids?" Scully was surprised by the shocked look on Mulder's face. Then stunned by the anger which quickly replaced it. "Scully? Are you nuts?" he shouted, "Damnit! If we can just hold it together and lay low for a few months. Not rock any boats. I'm sure we could approach Skinner. There *are* some people who would back a move to reopen the X-Files. If we could get their support, we could get back to the *real* cause- finding the truth and exposing Cancerman and his ilk. What's the matter with you? I thought that this meant as much to you as it does to me?" He turned away from her, using his angry energy to restack a few boxes, refusing to meet her eyes. "Going on emotion, not reason, must be that time of the month," he muttered under his breath as he lifted the last box to the top of the pile. Scully's face went white with rage when she overheard that remark. the thought raced across her mind. Her jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with dangerous fire, she stepped up to him. She spun him to face her and put every ounce of fury behind a slap that echoed in the apartment, causing Mulder to stagger back until he slammed up against the door. She yanked his coat from the closet and threw it at him. "*Get out*!!" she screamed, "Just get the fuck out!!" His head still ringing from the slap, Mulder took one look at the naked, murderous fury on Scully's face and realized he'd been even more of a senseless jerk than he usually was. Much more. And at this point, discretion wasn't just the better part of valour, it was a survival imperative. Picking his coat up off the floor, Mulder left her apartment without another word. He was nearly to the door at the end of the hall when he heard a door open behind him. Turning around, he saw Scully leaning out the door of her soon-to-be-former apartment. "That was the *last* fucking straw, Mulder," she shrieked, "You got that? The last straw!" Mulder winced as her door slammed behind her. He walked out into the night silently berating himself for his callous selfishness. Inside the apartment, Scully stood leaning her back against the door, her head in her hands as the tears exploded from her eyes. It took her several minutes to regain control. Looking around at the boxes piled everywhere and hearing the last sobs echoing hollowly, she decided she couldn't spend the night here. Grabbing her coat from the closet, she picked up her keys and left to go to her mother's house. She really needed the warmth that always permeated the atmosphere there. The sense of home. ****************************************************************** End part 1a. Part 1b to follow immediately. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ferret's in his cage,thinking. History is written by those in power to justify the present.Memory is the same thing on a smaller scale. Men are more sentimental than women.It blurs their thinking. Nursing does not diminish the beauty of a woman's breasts;it enhances their charm by making them look lived in and happy. Avoid making irrevocable decisions while tired or hungry. N.B.:Circumstances can force your hand.So think ahead! --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimers, etc. in part 1a. ****************************************************************** This morning, she'd scarcely even acknowledged his presence when he'd showed up as the moving company loaded her possessions into the trailer. Much of it would have to stay in storage until she found a new apartment in LA. She'd arranged to stay at an Academy classmate's apartment in the meantime. After the movers had departed, she had glared silently at him for over a minute before getting into her car and driving away without saying a word, leaving a confused and forlorn Mulder standing alone on the sidewalk in front of her former apartment. There are some sins that you can justify But not the one I'm guilty of I had a choice one last chance ago But I turned my back on love Did I just miss The last exit to Eden Is this the only love I'll know Like a Judas kiss Did my heart betray me Back on the road I never chose Scully brooded a bit over that line. That was where the song was wrong. She supposed she had chosen this road. She had chosen to stay with Mulder and the X-Files years ago. Chosen a relationship with him she had known would be dangerous. They could be separated if discovered. As they had been. Scully pulled her cell phone from her pocket, but couldn't bring herself to call Mulder. She left it on the night table and turned down the sound on the radio so Amanda Marshall's voice wouldn't conceal the faint trilling if her phone rang. She couldn't make herself initiate the call, but she was hoping, and dreading, that Mulder would. He deserved an explanation for her behaviour in front of her old apartment this morning, but her pride wouldn't let her call him. *He* had to be the one to call *her*. I can hear the man upstairs, he's crying out 'Fall on your knees, the end is near' We both may need a saviour, tonight I fear that mine Is the one I left waiting far from here she thought, returning to stare out the window again, But she really didn't know what she would say if Mulder *did* call. How would she tell him about some very personal suspicions? Maybe it would be better for both of them if she just made a clean break of it. Not try to talk to him and just try to make the best of her move to LA. she reflected derisively, Scully raised her one arm over her head and rested her clenched fist against the window pane. The other hand lay pressed against her stomach. With all that had happened over the past two weeks, she hadn't paid much attention to some personal concerns until Mulder had made his astoundingly insensitive crack about it being time for her period. And that was the 'other problem'. It hadn't hit her until this morning as she got ready to meet the movers at her apartment to load her belongings on the truck. After twenty years of her cycle being as regular as a Swiss watch, she was late. As the chorus to the song on the radio repeated, she watched a feral cat sitting under the dogwoods devouring a large bird, considering the implications. Did I just miss The last exit to Eden Is this the only love I'll know Like a Judas kiss Did my heart betray me Back on the road I never chose Did I just miss The last exit to Eden Is this the only love I'll know Like a Judas kiss Did my heart betray me Back on the road I never chose The primitive savagery of the predator/prey relationship reminded her of the Consortium. They were the predators. She and Mulder (and the rest of the world) were the prey. And the Truth was like a watering hole. But there were never enough around to sustain everyone and the predators always seemed to know exactly where they were and planted themselves nearby to allow the prey to come to them. Easy pickings. But would her transfer away from Mulder mean that they would consider her a threat dealt with and therefore no longer needing watching? How would they react if they found out she was pregnant? With Mulder's child? she thought, Scully turned away from the window, pulled the drapes closed and got ready for bed. She paused a moment to reassure herself that the package she'd removed from her safe deposit box was still in the pocket of her suit bag. That package contained the access numbers for an account in an off-shore bank she maintained under an assumed name, Mairi Dennehy. A name belonging to a new identity she'd been building carefully over the past two years. She'd never gotten around to telling Mulder she'd finally decided to take his advice. Soon after she was assigned to the X-Files, Mulder had suggested she build an alter ego in case they had to run and hide someday. She hadn't really considered it seriously until the night of her stand-off with AD Skinner in Mulder's apartment. That night, she realized that Mulder had been deadly serious about the possible need to go to ground. And so she had started. At first, using some of the money Ahab had left her to build a small nest egg in an off-shore account. That account had trebled when she had found out that Missy had named her as sole beneficiary. Dana had funneled everything to the off-shore account. In the past two years, that account had grown to almost three hundred thousand dollars. But money wasn't the only thing she'd set aside. Obtaining the birth certificate that was the basis of her alter ego had been one of the things she'd agonized over. It was easy enough to actually go through the motions, all it took was $5, postage, and the name and date of birth sent to the Hall of Records. Two weeks later, the "replacement" birth certificate had arrived at her post office box. Once she'd had the birth certificate, obtaining a social security number, driver's license, even a passport, to go with the new name hadn't been difficult. It was the process of checking cemeteries for a suitable name, the name of a child who would have been roughly her own age if she had lived past the age of five, that had caused numerous sleepless nights. And still hung guiltily on her conscience. More than the few forgeries she had committed in order to give her new identity a similar medical background to her real one. Scully pushed the memories away and tried to get settled into the bed. She needed to get some rest. She had a lot of driving to do tomorrow; she had to report in to work in the LA field office's pathology department at the beginning of next week. If she pushed it, she could be in LA by Thursday. That would give her three full days to hunt for a new apartment before reporting in to work. She hoped she could find one quickly. She didn't want to strain her friendship by being the guest who never leaves. She may need all the friends she could get over the next few months. And if she was, in fact, pregnant with Mulder's child, she would have to make some very difficult choices. Whether or not to tell Mulder was the foremost in her mind. Did I just miss The last exit to Eden Did I just miss My only way out of here Did I just miss The last exit to Eden Did I just miss My only way out She made sure her alarm clock was set, turned off the radio and settled her head into the pillow. She would make every effort to protect the child from *Them*, even if it meant that she would have to give up on reconciling with Mulder. Even the possibility of leaving the Bureau entirely, maybe even use the fake ID she'd developed to vanish completely if that was the only way to make sure that *They* wouldn't find her. THE END Before anyone starts screaming at me, I *do* have more in the works. I'm planning this as a four part serial. I already have parts 2 & 3 outlined and have some idea of how to finish the serial off. I promise to get them out as soon as possible. Feedback, especially positive feedback, is great food for that creative part my (albeit twisted) mind. Please send comments and virtual junk food to tthwaite@banff.net.