From: Muzinke@aol.com
Date: Wed, 21 Jun 2000 14:32:31 EDT
Subject: xfc: Threnody 6: Penciling Lines (1/1)
Source: xfc

TITLE: Penciling Lines
AUTHOR: Tarin Z. Kesumin
E-MAIL: Muzinke@aol.com
CATEGORY: Not willing to label this a WIP just yet... still an
ongoing series of connected vignettes. No question about this
being a post-ep, though.
KETWORDS: implied MSR, A, X-File
SUMMARY: In both personal and professional interactions, the
establishment of boundaries is crucial.
SPOILERS: Big ones for Requiem.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not a one of 'em, sorry to say. I'm
only borrowing them from CC and Fox to help fill these lazy,
hazy days of summer.
ARCHIVE: Gossamer, Xemplary, Spookys are fine. Everyone
else, please ask first. I haven't said no to anyone yet.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:  This is the sixth story in an ongoing series,
and while you can get the gist of this one without reading the
others, there are a few references to previous installments. To
catch up, go to my website:
 http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Orion/5345/TheHole.html

I have no idea just how for I plan on taking this series=E2=80=A6The 
summer is young, though, so stay tuned.  The series title, 
threnody, means literally 'mournful chant' or 'lament', and is 
also a synonym for requiem. 

Heaps of thanks to Suzanne, my wonderful beta and guest 
lecturer on the writer's perogative, and to Clarissa for the
support and spelling help- yes, you are useful!!! :) 

*   *   *

J. Edgar Hoover Building
May 26, 2000
11:34am

"Sir, Agent Scully is waiting for you in your office. I told her you might
 
be a while, but she insisted." The tone of Kimberly's voice belayed her 
frustration at having been once again ignored. Opening the door to his 
office, Skinner smiled, bemused, at his secretary's continued disapproval 
of the X-Files agents.

"Thanks, Kim. Hold all of my calls; Agent Scully and I are not to be 
disturbed."

Her confused murmur of, "Yes, sir," followed him as he strode into his 
office, where Scully was already rising from her seat at the conference 
table "Sir-". 

"Give me a minute, Agent Scully. Then we'll talk." She said nothing, only 
nodded her assent before sinking back into the black leather chair. 

Arriving beside his desk, he dropped the stack of files he'd been carrying
 
with an uncerimonious plop upon the blotter before raising his eyes to 
properly greet his waiting agent. He took in the sea of papers and 
photographs lapping against the edges of the conference table. Not one 
to waste time, Scully had again submerged herself in the commotion of 
papers before her, focusing her attention on a particular photograph 
centered on the table before her.

So much information. All of it disjointed, bits and pieces of a larger puzz
le 
whose completion was their only hope for finding Mulder. He was frankly 
amazed that she had not fought her way out of the hospital and back to 
his offices, and the information that would save Mulder, sooner. 

Taking a deep breath, he moved to sit beside her at the conference table. 
"I assume that your absence from my office until now means that you 
were unable to convince the hospital staff to discharge you earlier than 
scheduled?"

He met the anticipated scathing look she shot in his direction head-on, 
his determination to keep her from falling down the same self-destructive 
path her partner did years ago strengthening his resolve. More than 
simply her life would depend on his continued conviction.

"They released me this morning around 8am" Skinner made quick work 
of the math, and realized with a degree of frustration that Scully most 
likely had not taken the time for breakfast this morning. Something he 
would not leave unaddressed. But was not foolish enough to visit while 
she was still on the defensive; the acid in her tone spoke volumes about 
her current state of mind. Time enough for that confrontation later.

Oblivious to his musings, she continued, "I stopped by to talk with the 
Gunmen before coming here. They're going to start analyzing the satelite 
data they've been able to recover so far, keeping an eye out for the same 
type of transmission errors that we saw in the original ERS data. Maybe 
there's a way that we can locate this thing, or a craft similar to it."

Skinner exhaled slowly, reaching for one of the countless files strewn 
before him. He flipped through it absently, replying softly,"To what end, 
Scully? We find similar transmission distortions in the satelite data, and
 
then what? We have no known means of entering the ship's energy field 
safely."

Indignant, she stared him in the eye. "Sir, until the evidence indicates 
otherwise, I refuse to close any avenue of investigation that may lead 
to the return of Agent Mulder." 

"And I understand that, Agent Scully. But I also think it's necessary to 
understand that some investigative avenues may be more accessible than 
others."

"Which is why I want to open an investigation into the whereabouts of 
Alex Krycek and Maria Covarubius." He looked up to find her eyes 
locked onto his, daring him to protest. 

When he did not, she continued, voice generously laced with sarcasm. 
"I assume we've heard nothing from them since their auspiscious 
appearance a few days ago?"

A feathery chuckle tickled at his lips as acknowledgement of her 
astuteness. "I doubt either of them thought it prudent to stay in town 
any longer than necessary. But I'm not sure I see how finding the two 
of them will help us. Krycek in particular has never been one to offer 
information freely, unless it served his own purposes. What is it you 
hope to get from them, assuming they can be found?"

"I'm sure that Krycek and Marita both knew more about that ship 
and its mission than he told any of us,Mulder included. And I find it 
hard to believe that they were not aware of the consequences of 
Mulder's returning to Oregon."

"You believe that Krycek and Marita orchestrated this? That their 
intention was to lure Mulder back to Oregon." It was not a question, 
and he consciously omitted the final, chilling element of this suspected 
plot. 

From the look on Scully's face, his elaboration was unnecessary; she 
too had come to the conclusion that Mulder's abduction was 
anything but coincidental. "Sir, I've learned in my work on the X-Files 
that coincidences are rarely what they seem. And it becomes very 
convenient for Krycek, Marita, and that Smoking bastard they work 
for, if Mulder is no longer capable of pursuing his investigations."

"That still doesn't prove that either one of them knows anything that 
can help us locate Agent Mulder."

"It's enough for me, sir." Desiring a close to the discussion, she rose, 
and began shuffling files and photographs into a neat pile. Skinner 
watched her clean, concise movements, narrowing his eyes at the stiff 
tension in her muscles. For not the first time, he wondered at the 
stoicism his agent was able to convey in times when he was certain a 
lesser person would break down into a mass of tears and turmoil.

Unfortunately for Scully, he had seen her act enough times in their 
professional association to recognize it. He couldn't begin to guess 
at the emotions he knew were roiling beneath the surface of her cool 
composure; he felt it safe to assume that a heavy dose of 'survivor's 
guilt' was weighing on her. After all, he was feeling it, too.

And he would be damned if he would sit by and have it compounded 
while Scully worked herself until she dropped trying to find Mulder.
She was pregnant-about two months along, according to her doctor-
and he wanted to be sure that she didn't lose sight of that fact in her
rush to bring Mulder home. 
 
He might not feel secure enough to discuss her pregnancy directly; 
experience had shown him time and time again just how 'private' his
office truly was, and he had no intention of giving Them any more 
information than they already had. It was a safe guess they'd gotten 
into her hospital records, and knew of her condition; he'd let them 
muddle out the how, who, and when on their own.

He therefore phrased his next words carefully. "I'll allow you the 
leeway you need to pursue this, Agent Scully, granted that you keep 
me appraised of any leads, and that you do *not* overstep your 
bounds."

Her shuffling came to an abrupt stop. Pulling her eyes up to meet his 
she queried, "What exactly do you mean, sir, by overstepping my 
bounds?"

"What did you have for breakfast this morning, Agent Scully?" he 
countered.

"Sir," she protested, her voice belaying her distress as it rose in both 
pitch and volume. "I don't see what this has to do with my pursuing 
this investigation!"

"It has everything to do with it, Agent," he boomed, rising to lean 
on flat palms across the stacks of papers between them. "because 
if I find that you are neglecting your health in lieu of this investigation
, 
I will have you removed from the case, placed on administrative leave, 
if need be."

Stunned into silence, Scully merely stood there, knuckles white 
against the deep cherry of the conference table, eyes accusing as 
they studied his form looming over her. She resented him in that 
moment--his threatening words, his guilt-driven concern, his blatant 
use of size to intimidate. She did not need or want any of it. 

Not from him, at any rate. There was only one man she granted the 
rare privilege of openly coddling her, the only man whose underlying 
intentions she trusted without question. And he was missing.

Contempt souring her tone, she replied, "Are you through, sir?"

He visibly sofened, realizing too late his mistake in asserting his 
professional and physical advantage. Pushing back from the table, 
he again settled himself in his chair. "I hope you know Scully, that 
I don't doubt your abilities, as an investigator or as an agent." 

Her eyes shone with suspicion, the tight cross of her arms about her 
chest radiated a slowly simmering tension. "Really." 

"But I will not stand by and watch you destroy yourself the way 
Agent Mulder did-" He faltered, bravado plumetting as he realized 
he hadn't an inkling what Mulder had told her, or more importantly, 
what he had kept hidden from her about his state of mind while she 
was missing.

"The way Mulder did when I was taken." There was a reluctant 
resignation in her voice, as her arms dropped from their defensive 
posture to hang limply at her sides. Mulder's persistent unwillingness 
to discuss even the cases he followed during those months was 
testament enough for her; five years later, he still felt the need to 
protect her from knowledge of the person he had become in her 
absence. 

And it was becoming more and more apparent as this conversation 
continued that Skinner had every intention of carrying on in Mulder's 
absence. "Sir, I do appreciate your concern, but it is not warranted." 

"All right," he said, raising hands palm-up in a placating gesture, 
"Consider this a preventative measure, then, Agent Scully. I don't 
want to hear about any more unscheduled trips to Georgetown 
University Hospital."

"Understood, sir." She nodded, gracing him with a soft smile as she 
gathered the files stacked before her and turned to the door. 

The dissipation of the tension in the room was almost palapable, and 
both Scully and Skinner seemed to sag with the relief of it. 

Standing, he called out to her retreating figure. "Scully, in the face of 
certain... circumstances, I needed that reassurance from you, 
before I could allow you to continue."

"I know that, Sir. Thank you," she murmured softly over her shoulder. 
"I will explain it all to you, sir," she added, looking on him with a 
reluctant
smile that did not reach her eyes, "I want to be sure, though, that it's 
*only* you that I tell."

He nodded his head in agreement; the 'snick' of the doorlock slipping 
shut her only reply. 

*   *   *

End.
*   *   *