From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2001 11:58:00 -0600 Subject: You Can Lead a Horse to Water by Ante Up Source: direct Reply To: the_antes_up@spacemail.com Title: You Can Lead a Horse to Water Author: Ante Up Rating: PG-13 for language Keywords: MSR/DAL, Doggett POV Spoilers: S8 through Badlaa, only specifically En Ami, Within/Without Summary: "How long did it take Mulder to win your trust?" Notes: I'm not a big fan of the way they are writing Doggett and Scully in season eight, but I do think Doggett is an okay guy, a little on the dim side but I thought I'd try and give him a break. That said, I am definitely anxiously awaiting Mulder's return. Feedback: Welcomed at the_antes_up@spacemail.com Archive: Sure fine whatever :) just drop me a line telling me. Disclaimer: As long as we never see Doggett in a red speedo, I'll let CC keep them all. __________________________ Carefully balancing the two plates, sandwiches perched precariously against the coleslaw and pickles, I knock on the open door to the X-files office. I don't want to startle Agent Scully who is working furiously at his desk. She looks up quickly and closes her laptop hiding her work from me. That seems to happen a lot. "I brought you some lunch," I say, presenting her plate to her with a flourish. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." For cryin' out loud. "Agent Scully, I know for a fact you didn't eat breakfast." "How would you presume to know anything about me," she asks pointedly, her eyes glowing with mild animosity. "Well let's review the morning's activities... I went to feed Mulder's fish and I found you, again taking a short nap after, presumably, 'feeding Mulder's fish.'" That morning she at least had had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught in her partner's bed again. "Then I followed your car straight in to the office. We arrived about 8:15 am and have been here ever since. The only times you left were to change your suit, presumably using the suit in the spare bag you keep in your trunk, twice to go to the bathroom and once to get some coffee, which you like straight up." "First off, I wasn't taking a short nap there, I slept the whole night there. And it wasn't to feed Mulder's fish. Secondly, it was three times to go to the bathroom, once with a side trip to get some decaf coffee, which I actually like with soy milk, if possible. Lastly, I keep one extra bag here in the office and another in my car. I used the one in the office today." She is trying to prove a point but I'm not buying. "Don't presume to know me, Agent Doggett." "But have you eaten?" She looks down, almost guiltily. "No." I set her plate down on top of her laptop in front of her. Closing her eyes she moves it away from her, breathing deeply. I can't tell if she is trying to control her anger at me or her repulsion of my humble offering or both. "Whatsa matter, Scully?" I ask with a mouthful, "Don't like 'slaw, that's un-American." "Shut up Doggett." Her eyes, which held fire moments ago, now look bland and a sheen of sweat covers her face. She looks like she might throw up. I want to change the subject, quickly, feeling uneasy about the direction we were heading. "So Scully, what are you working on?" I use my fork to indicate precisely what I mean, her laptop. Of course, I know she is analyzing any and all data relating even distantly to Mulder's disappearance but I am hoping she will open up to me and trust me with her journey. "None of your business Agent Doggett." And the door slams shut on that prospect. "Now see, Scully" I say as I put my own plate down, "I think you are wrong there. It's about Mulder, isn't it?" She refuses to yield an answer, so I push on, trying to provoke any sort of reaction in her. "Agent Scully, why can't you trust me? I want to find Agent Mulder just as much as you." "You have no idea, Doggett, no idea. You have no possible context for knowing how badly I want Mulder to be found. " As she looks up at me from her chair, there is no anger in her voice and eyes, just a bone-deep weariness. I turn and walk to my desk, momentarily unable to face her sorrow. Turning back I say, "Then why can't you trust me enough to share those files with me. I can help but only if you let me." My voice is rough, unused to the discretion and tenderness she has provoked in me, her overworked hands running slowly over her exhausted face. "Because Agent Doggett, Mulder is the only one I trust and he is gone." With that, she pushes the plate, sandwich and all into the trash. "Damn it, Scully," my voice, leaving the tenderness behind, is comfortable again with the anger I am feeling at her judgement of me. "All I want to do is help, you won't even eat a sandwich I bring you. You are right, Mulder is gone but I am here and you have to face the facts Agent Scully... you need my help and you need to trust me." My voice rises with each word. If she even hears me, she doesn't show it. I want her attention, practically yelling now, "Shit Scully, who was Mulder to you. How long did it take for him to earn your friendship like I am trying to now?" "How long did it take Mulder to win your trust?" I ask bitingly. Finally she reacts, her entire body stiffens and I see something snap behind her tired eyes. She needs a good kick in the ass and I am more than willing to oblige. She is rising to give me hell and then suddenly she is falling, alarmingly quickly, to the floor. "Shit!" I grab her shoulders and let her down gently. "Agent Scully?" I quickly grab a coat off the coat rack, and rush back to her side. Balling the trench coat up, I slip it under her head for support. Unconsciously she turns, burrowing her head into it. I hear a contented whisper, "Mulder." It is his trench coat. Goddammit all to hell, can't I do anything right? "Agent Doggett, what is going on here?" Skinner's voice calls from behind me and I stand, knees protesting. "Agent Scully was standing and fainted dead away, sir." He moves to my side, "Go get her some juice. She always has some in the fridge." Having dismissed me, he kneels by her. As I return, she is sitting up, speaking quietly to him. Skinner's eyes dart between me and her. I, for all the world, feel like the older brother who pushed his kid sister too hard on the playground and she got hurt. Skinner takes the juice, holding it to her lips, and runs a hand soothingly up and down her back. As much insight as I may have into human psychology or anything subject for that matter, it doesn't compare to Fox Mulder's, especially when it comes to this woman. I doubt even Skinner, with his fatherly concern would ever be able to read her like Mulder could. Mulder is one lucky SOB. "Agent Doggett is your case report complete?" He interrupts my thoughts. "Yes sir, right there on my desk." "Good, I was down here to pick it up. Since you both have finished it up, please take Scully home. She isn't feeling well enough to drive." I couldn't help but guess that Scully disliked being treated as though she wasn't even there. "Is that okay with you Agent Scully?" I want to make amends with her. "Yes thank you, Agent Doggett, it would be very much appreciated." Back to the secure and proper Agent Scully. Skinner helps her stand then sets the empty cup on her desk. He grabs some of her belongings and stuffs them in her briefcase. After exchanging her briefcase for the report, he leaves, with a backwards glance to her for reassurance. She nods. My eyes follow his exit. "Ready to go Agent Scully?" She doesn't answer. Turning back I see her, carefully bending to pick up the coat left carelessly on the floor. I see his name on her lips as she clutches it to her stomach, unwilling to give up on even the smallest parts of him. "Agent Doggett," she begins quietly. "When I learned I had cancer several years ago. Mulder was the first person I called." She pauses and I wait uncertainly. "Agent Doggett, you will never be the first person I call." She turns and heads for the elevator. I grab my keys, hit the lights and carefully close the door behind me. You can lead a horse to water but you can't make her drink.