From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 24 May 2007 19:19:59 -0000
Subject: Tessitura by Athene
Source: direct

Reply To: athene1121@hotmail.com


Title: Tessitura
Author: Athene
Email: athene1121@hotmail.com
Distribution: Gossamer; all others please ask
Rating: PG
Category: Vignette, R
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance 
Spoilers: The Truth
Summary: I developed a profile to see what I can 
discern about the love of my life.
Disclaimer: All characters property of 1013 and Fox. 
Author's Notes: grateful thanks to YappiChick for 
lightning-fast, balanced and perceptive beta reading


Tessitura
By Athene


Scully's been an enigma since the moment we met. I 
can't escape the feeling that she has been profiling 
me since before I even knew she existed. She certainly 
handles me better than any other partner I've had. She 
seems to know more about me and my motives and my 
passions than I do myself. Who said profilers were 
particularly skilled at understanding themselves? 

As an exercise, I developed a profile to see what I 
can discern about the love of my life:

The UNSUB is much neater and much more organized than 
I will ever be. I deduce this because the UNSUB has 
threatened to inflict dark and mysterious torture on 
my body if I continue to file "Religious Visions" under 
"Psychotic Hallucinations". I don't really know why 
she's so worried about my filing system; I still know
where everything is. I have to say, though, that 
sometimes her torture sounds sorta fun. Must be why 
I still misfile those case files.

The UNSUB has a very feminine side kept hidden from 
peers and casual acquaintances. Satin pajamas and 
push-up bras and silky little panties. Those 
impossibly high heeled shoes. Those tight little 
white blouses with the buttons undone. And she's flirty
when we're not being watched. 

Well, when we don't think we're being watched. Like 
the way she's started straightening my ties, even if 
they're already straight. Moves like that bring every 
cell in my body to attention.

The UNSUB can swear like a sailor, but she still blushes. 
There's this delicate little pink flush that starts 
between her breasts and spreads up past her neck 
and cheeks, into her hair.  The pale little tips 
of her ears turn pink, and she can't make eye contact. 

I love to watch her blush.  

I love to make her blush. 

There's this whispery little voice I use that always 
works. Especially in elevators. I love to follow the 
path of her blush with my lips.

The UNSUB is the worst liar I have ever met. And that 
includes me. "Folie a deux," my ass. All that "I'm 
fine" crap she threw my way when she was sick?  Never 
believed a word of it.  

And that line about being on stakeout with me when I 
supposedly assaulted Tooms?  If she hadn't saved my 
hide with that one, I'd still be teasing her about 
it.  The only reason Skinner bought her lie about us 
being together is because the man is smitten with her.
       
And the bit about never having swung a bat at a 
baseball? Growing up with her brothers?  I'd have to 
be a moron to believe that. The nice part about that 
impromptu batting lesson was that she knew just as 
well as I did why we were snuggled up together over 
home plate for 2 hours. 

The UNSUB uses a clean towel every day, replaces her 
hand towels every other day, does all her dishes 
right after they're used, has spotless sinks, and 
changes her sheets twice a week. She makes her bed 
every morning. A drop-in visitor could open any door 
or closet in her apartment and find things orderly 
and clean.

I have a clean pile of laundry and a dirty pile of 
laundry sitting in a heap in front of my empty 
closet. My towels can probably stand up by 
themselves.

The UNSUB has a warm relationship with family and 
still has friends, unlike me. Of course, with friends 
like Krycek, who needs enemies?

The UNSUB is fiercely private and independent. She 
won't let me sit in the exam room with her when she 
sees her dentist.  

I wonder if he has big buck teeth? 

The UNSUB is polite and kind to most of the law 
enforcement folks we encounter in our line of work. 
She's a lot better than I at the perfunctory 
courtesies that smooth over FBI involvement in what 
the locals perceive to be their own turf.  She's always 
impressed local law enforcement. Even the bastards. 
The vampire bastards. 

Damned buck-toothed hick vampire bastard Sheriff Lucius 
FARTwell.

The UNSUB has no room for the fantastic in an orderly, 
logical life, unless it's related to faith in God. 

Or faith in me.  

The UNSUB has very peculiar eating habits. Bee pollen. 
And barbecued ribs. She likes barbecue sauce. And she 
licks her fingers when she eats.  Okay, I'm gonna have 
to take a break and think about that for a bit. 

The UNSUB has a frighteningly brilliant mind and 
razor-sharp analytical skills. She's a medical 
doctor. She's also hell on wheels if you get in her 
way in during an emergency. There is, however, 
something just slightly worrisome about the fact that 
I'm her only living patient. 

And she can't stick a needle or an IV in a person 
without causing excruciating pain.  She can barely 
apply steri strips without pre-medicating me. It's 
not me, it's her.  Too many years in which none of 
her patients complained, that's what I think. 

And then there's the ice packs.  

Don't get me started on her ice-pack-to-the-pinkie 
finger maneuver during that bacterial agent scare a 
few years ago.

I think she'd have avoided causing me so much pain if 
she'd turned on a light so she could see. There wouldn't
have been so much manipulation of the finger which 
the terrorist snapped. 

Come to think of it, she does seem to work in dim light 
more than any other medical person I've met. It's a 
little odd; you'd think she'd see more detail with a 
good strong lamp or one of those flashlights we used to 
carry before replacement costs pissed off Requisitions. 
And she does need glasses for close work, you know. 

The UNSUB has a dry sense of humor. And she'll always 
keep me guessing. She told me that herself. And she 
has a soft spot for Skinner.  Walter told me she'd 
kissed him once, a few years back, when he did her 
some particular favor.  I'm just waiting for the 
perfect moment to spring that one on her.  

After all, would I go around kissing anyone who 
wasn't Scully? Even some plunging neckline red 
satinized Titian haired OSS agent on a mission to 
save the world?


The UNSUB can be easily manipulated by tempting her with 
the possibility of curing illness or ending pain. Like 
that cigarette-smoking son of a bitch Spender and 
their little weekend jaunt out of town?  And little 
pop-psychology lectures on powerful men?  Undressing 
her? And double-crossing her with that disk? I still 
can't believe she lied to me.  This one is pretty 
hard to be flippant about; it took a lot of effort to 
get past. We treat this one very cautiously.  Maybe 
it says more about me than it does about her. But I 
don't wanna go there.  And I'm a psychologist. No 
avoidance here. 
       
The UNSUB gets a thrill from losing control from time 
to time, but isn't particularly good at judging the 
worth of companions when going off on a wild hare to 
Philadelphia. Okay, I don't want to talk about this, 
either, and I'm sorry I brought it up. I've gotten 
past it. Not bitter anymore. Really. Yes, the tattoo 
is cool-looking, but I don't want to think about 
Ergot Boy ever again. Bastard. 

She likes losing control with me, though. I like it too.

The UNSUB is loyal and fierce, and fights for what 
she believes. She followed me to the top of the 
world, and I followed her to the bottom of the world. 

She brought me back from the dead, literally, and she 
told me that I was the reason she came back from 
certain death after Duane Barry.

She believes in me.  In me, of all people. Monster 
Boy himself. Spooky Mulder.  Her poopyhead.  Has a 
nice ring to it, doesn't it?

And what do I conclude about our Unknown Subject? Most
of the time she likes me. She even loves me. And she 
trusts me. In the end, I think that's all I really have 
to know about her.  

End