Date: 29 May 2002 23:10:22 GMT Subject: NEW - What Goes Up by Riptide Source: atxc By Riptide riptide_isle@yahoo.com May 29, 2002 Category: V, Spoilers: "William" This story takes place in Season 9 before the events in the season finale. Summary: The basement, a conversation, a revelation. Archive: Feel free. Let me know where please Disclaimer: All characters belong to Chris Carter and FOX co. Feedback: That would be nice, it's been a long time. Author's Notes: If someone had told me that my first story coming back from a long hiatus would have Doggett and Reyes in it, I would have laughed myself silly. I consider this story to be about Mulder and Scully. Others may see it differently. What goes up... by Riptide Federal Bureau of Investigation X-Files Office "Fuck!" Doggett hunched over the desk, one hand covering his head. He looked up at the ceiling tiles, daring the objects hanging there to take any more action. A few seconds passed, then with a satisfied grunt, Doggett returned his attention to the file in front of him. Flipping through several pages, Doggett sighed at the latest supposed "X-File" to land on his desk. Just what the hell did they think he did down here anyway? What kind of crap did they think he'd take? Any legitimate case would get his full attention, but this one? Traveling to South Carolina to investigate the sighting of some swampman-thing monster was not what he wanted to spend his valuable time on. This case was utter bullshit, something only Mulder would... *Thud* "Ouch...Fuck! That hurt!" Leaping up from the chair, Doggett snatched the offending object from the file it had landed on after bouncing off his head, and flung it at the door. "That's fucking it! I've had it. They're coming down." Grabbing his FBI cap from the coat rack, he searched for a yard stick, or something long enough to reach the ceiling. He could probably reach most of them himself, but whacking at them and watching them fly around the room would be more satisfying. He'd just gotten the chair in place, and was aiming for the first one when... "John, what are you doing?" The chair tipped precariously as his weight shifted. He did a half turn on the chair, while trying to keep his balance. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Monica Reyes stood in the doorway, arms folded in front of her. He was relieved it was her and not Skinner that had walked in on him. He was positive he looked ridiculous in his FBI cap, shirt and tie holding a yardstick like a baseball bat. "John, you don't want to do this." "Oh, yes, I do." "No, you don't." Doggett opened his mouth to reply, that yes, yes, he really did need to remove each and every one of the mini missiles before one punctured a hole into his head, or put his eye out. What made him close his mouth instead, was the way Reyes was looking at him. She had this look, you see, that just never failed to stop him in his tracks. Maybe it was the way she tipped her head down just so, so that he got the full effect of the eyes staring at him. It could be the parted lips, allowing just a peek of perfect white teeth. But what it really was, was the way her mouth turned up at the corner, nearly a smile, but not quite. And this almost smile said, 'John, you are about to make a stupid mistake that you will inevitably regret later.' He lowered the stick, then climbed down from the chair. Taking off his cap, because he was feeling rather silly in it now, he stopped just in front of her and mimicked the way she was standing. His look was pure defiance, a challenge for her to give him whatever reason she had to stop this act of self-defense, and to make the explanation damn good. Surprising him, Monica moved in close, entering his personal space. Doggett took a step backward without thinking, then cursed himself for his mistake. He kept his expression the same though, and her smile disappeared. "I just think that you're making a mistake by taking those down." "How can removing dangerous objects from the workplace be a mistake? I've been hit by the damn things more times than I can count. Someday, I'm going to be looking up when one of the damn things fall and it will be lights out for John. And anyway, this isn't his office anymore. It's my...our office, and there ain't no good reason for them to still be up there!" He could feel the heat rising in his face and waited for her to make some crack about "getting his blood up." The remark didn't come, but he could see it in her face that she'd been thinking it. "John, I want you to think about something." Doggett rolled his eyes at this, but wisely kept listening. He knew he was about to get some wild story or silly superstition about why the things should be allowed to stay. His friendship and genuine respect for this woman had taught him to at least hear her side of things, no matter how bizarre the tale. "How many times have you been to Agent Scully's house?" "What?" "How many times?" "What the hell kind of question is that? What are you getting at? You know that Agent Scully and I had nothing more than a professional...." "Whoa, John, not what I meant. It was a simple question. You've been over to her place on several occasions, correct?" Doggett nodded, brows furrowed and obvious confusion playing across his face. Where was this going? "Can you remember seeing any pictures of Mulder anywhere? Even a small photograph in a frame on her coffee table?" "Uh, no. So what? I don't think that Mulder and Scully had what you'd call a 'normal' relationship. They were partners a long time. I don't think they wanted to advertise to anybody that it had become anything more. Those are two of the most private people I've ever met. Can't blame 'em really." "You know what it was like for Dana when Mulder was abducted? You witnessed her pain?" "You mean when he went missing the first time, right? Not now?" "He didn't 'go missing' John. He was taken. Anyway, what I'm trying to get at..." "Please do." Monica gave him what he'd come to know as 'The Look' and his breathing hitched. "I'm sure that Dana did most of her grieving at home alone. I remember you mentioned that you've called her and found out that she was at Mulder's apartment." "Feeding his fish." "Whatever. Look deeper, John. Why spend time there? It must have been incredibly painful to go into that apartment. I think it was because she had nothing at her place as a good enough reminder of him. Not even any pictures. In fact, I think the only picture she has is his FBI badge. I imagine that after so many months, she would have needed even more." "I don't follow. Look, Monica, I'm not sure where you're going with this. Just tell me if I have to go out and purchase a hard hat." It was one of those times that he wished life came with a rewind button. "I can't imagine anything could penetrate that thick skull of yours. I think you're safe." Ouch. "Dana could have left The X-Files at any time. She probably should have after she found out she was pregnant. This isn't a low risk job by any means, and I know from a conversation I had with her once, that having a child was very important to her. "I think that she needed to be here. I think that she needed to come to this office in particular because this room still held so much of his essence. Just look around. That poster on the wall. She left it up for a reason. She needed it to be there, as a reminder of what she'd lost and what she hoped to find again. Look around. What other things are here but don't really need to be?" Doggett took a quick glance around the room and nodded his head. "I used to come in here, quite early sometimes, and she'd already be here. Sitting at that desk, looking at the wall with all those pictures on it. I thought she was just dedicated." "She had him back for a while. Back from the dead. But they didn't have time to nurture anything in that relationship. Now he's gone again and William is gone, and all she has is his fish tank and..." "Pencils in the ceiling?" "Yes... pencils in the ceiling." He glanced up at them once, then with quite an audible sigh, looked back down at his feet. He shifted on them a couple of times, then smirked at the picture he was probably making. That of a schoolboy who was caught in front of a broken window with the baseball glove still in his hand. "So I'm stuck with 'em,?" "Only until it's time for them to come down. Dana will let you know when. In her own way, she'll let you know. I feel maybe... I think that, it might be soon." She gave him a smile then, one of her soft ones that he hoped were saved just for him. She seemed relieved that he finally understood what she'd been trying to explain to him. He gave her his most charming smile in return. "Okay, but I'm moving the desk." It seemed like a good solution to him. Why was she looking at him like that? Then her eyes left his, and and he saw her staring at the desk, a pensive look on her face. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then abruptly turned on her heel and began walking toward the door. He moved to follow her immediately. There was no way,no way she going to do this to him. It was time to take a stand. It was his office, damn it. "Uh, uh. I'm moving that desk. Do you hear me? Monica? Where are you going?" "REYES!" He stood there, hands on his hips, listening to her boots click as they ascended the stairs. Turning around, he looked up at the ceiling, then down at the desk. Walking slowly to his chair, he picked up his cap and pulled it down hard over his head, then sat back down at the desk and went back to work. THE END Thanks for reading. Riptide riptide_isle@yahoo.com