From: Isahunter@aol.com
Date: Sat, 9 Oct 1999 23:35:24 EDT
Subject: NEW: "Scene 12: Return" by Diadem (1/1)
Source: xff


Title:  Scene 12: Return (1/1)

Author:  Diadem

Category: V, MS friendship

Rating: G

Spoilers: Arc following Scully's abduction, FTF

Feedback:  Of course!  In fact, as this is kind of an 
     experiment, I would really appreciate it.
     Diadem@cwcom.net

Archive:  Gossamer's fine, anywhere else please let 
     me know first.

Disclaimer:  Mulder and Scully do not belong to me.  
     They belong to CC, 10:13 and Fox, but please remember, 
     imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!

Notes:  This is the twelfth in a series of unrelated short, 
     experimental pieces, that might be or might only be 
     pretending to be monologues.  The others can be found 
     at  http://www.aliens.mcmail.com/isadiadem

     Well, I have had a little break while I relocated 
     to a new city, and I am slowly getting back into 
     the swing of things.  I shouldn't really be working 
     on these right now, but they are fun!  Well, I think 
     they are...

     Scully POV.


Scene 12: Return (1/1)

I have worked for many different people in many different 
departments at the FBI.  And while I do my best to 
advertise the fact, it still remains a little known 
secret.  Why, I have no idea.
     Well, maybe I do.  Along with the somewhat unconventional
cases I am often asked to investigate with my partner comes 
a label.  A label that tells others to keep their distance.  
A label that warns everyone else against getting too close, 
lest they be contaminated.
     Does that sound bitter?  I guess it does, but I don't 
mean it to be, I honestly don't.  Once upon a time I would 
have been upset that so many people were keeping their 
distance - I was a popular student and this kind of snub 
would have made me worried that I was doing something wrong.
     So what changed?  In some part, I changed.  My job 
changed, my priorities in general changed.  In short, Mulder 
happened, and my life was turned upside down.  Which isn't 
necessarily a bad thing.  These last six years have been the 
most challenging, if not always enjoyable years of my life, 
and after med school I never thought I would be able to say 
that.  Never one to turn down a challenge, I have thrown myself 
into Mulder's work wholeheartedly.
     Mulder's work.  Our work.  I'm not sure when it became 
my work as well as his.  Maybe after my abduction, but it 
could have been sooner, or it might equally have been later.  
Try as I might, I just can't pinpoint the moment.
     Actually, I could give it a pretty good guess.  When we 
were seperated that first time, the time when that weasel 
Krycek fooled and betrayed us both, I realised that I was 
missing something that had become a major part of me.  Not 
only Mulder, but the files, the comfort of being in OUR space 
down in the basement, the familiarity of the work.  The very 
nature of the work itself - take my word for it, slicing and 
dicing at Quantico can't hold a candle to the X Files.  I 
missed it.
     But it was then that I began working with other people.  
Quantico phoned, and I was flattered that they would want me 
back.  And then other offers of work came flooding in, some 
from as far afield as New Jersey.  I never told Mulder.  There 
was no need.  I rejected them all, knowing that I needed to 
be near to the X Files, near to him, knowing instinctively 
that I would be needed again.
     I did favours for people, once travelling up to New York 
for a weekend, and although the offers of permanent work still 
turned up periodically I had no desire to accept any of them.  
My high solve rate and quick, efficient methods must have 
turned a few heads, but I was oblivious.  In fact, I wondered 
why on earth anyone would want me after I have been tarnished 
by the X Files division and my somewhat unpredictable partner.
     I remember working down in the lab one lunchtime, 
finishing up the autopsy on a suspected suicide, and I realised 
I had had enough.  I didn't want to do the work any more.  I 
was, quite frankly, bored.  Run of the mill cases with run of 
the mill conclusions and nice neat finishes just weren't cutting 
it any more.  I remember peeling off my gloves, throwing them 
into the trash, ripping my lab coat open, hurling my stupid 
little hat down next to it, and stalking out of the door, full 
of intentions to give my direct superiors a good talking to.  
I made it as far as the elevator before my cell phone rang in 
my pocket.  Not wanting to get distracted I punched the elevator 
button as I answered it.
     Three guesses who it was.  And if you need the second or 
third I will be very disappointed.  "Scully?"  He sounded so 
unsure.  I answered in the affirmative.
     My heart was leaping - I think I knew what he was going 
to say even before I heard the words.  He wanted me back.  He 
NEEDED me back.  Krycek was long gone, he had sent any number 
of assistants screaming, and I was the only one left he could 
turn to.  I felt oddly proud about that.  I still do.
     He asked if I was in the building.  By that time the 
elevator carriage had arrived, and I didn't even have to think 
about punching the "Basement" button rather than "4th Floor."  
I was on auto pilot.  I no longer needed to think.
     When I walked into that office - OUR office - he looked 
so dejected, just for a moment.  Then he heard me, and just 
stared at me, through me, into me, for several seconds.  Then, 
before I knew what was happening his arms were around me, his 
face buried in my hair, his soft voice murmuring all kinds of 
nonsense.  But it was his nonsense.  I welcomed it.  I welcomed 
him.  It felt so good to be back where I was wanted and needed.  
We stood there for a good ten minutes, simply holding each other, 
and I think I can honestly say it healed both of us, to some degree, 
of the traumas of the last few months. I was back, and within 
twenty four hours we were in Arizona.  I wasn't even annoyed.
     Since then we have been split up on many occasions.  After 
Dallas comes to mind immediately, of course, but that particular 
case held so many other meanings for us.  I won't go into that 
now, but from all these events I have learned that I can work 
with anyone, do any job, no matter how mundane or menial, as 
long as I know that Mulder is waiting for me, and needing me 
to travel every step of our journey with him.

End

I am suffering from a terrible feedback-drought - sustainance 
would be much appreciated!  Diadem@cwcom.net