Title: Twist
Author: fran58 (fran58@WonderHorse.net)

Previous parts may be found at: 
http://www.WonderHorse.net/authorspgs/fran58/fran58.htm
Feedback loved and appreciated.

headers in part one

Twist part 6
********************

The mid-morning sun was warm and comforting on Scully's back. 
It was a feeling she relished.  She felt loose and satisfied as she
strolled along the sidewalk.  She had asked the cab driver to drop
her off several blocks from her apartment simply because she had
suddenly wanted to walk.  The day was fine, the sky blue, the air
just tinged with the scent of autumn.  She was looking forward to
the Saturday morning paper and some time to herself.

Her good mood was snatched away by the sight of a disgruntled
looking Mulder on her front step.  Scully stopped, mid-stride.  He
hadn't seen her.  She could turn around and come back later.  She
could use the back entrance.  She knew she would do neither.

She studied him as she slowly walked to where he was seated.  His
clothes were crumpled, his hair awry, his face unshaven.  She was
willing to bet he didn't smell too great either.  Still, her heart gave
an odd flip as she drew near to him.

He squinted up at her through a lock of errant hair.  "‘Bout time," he
mumbled.  Unshaven and worse for the wear, Mulder still managed
to exude a rumpled allure that made her breathing uneven. 

"Well, good morning to you too, Mulder."  Scully walked past him
up to the door.  "You're looking mighty fine today."

She went up to her apartment, Mulder trailing after her.  She
glanced at him once they were inside and offered him coffee.  He
shook his head and jammed his hands into the pockets of his grubby
jeans, giving her a deep look she couldn't fathom.

He finally cleared his throat.  "We need to talk."

Scully nodded slowly, not liking the meaning she read behind the
words.  "Well, I'm going to shower first and change clothes."

She took her time in the shower, letting the water slide down her
skin for much longer than usual, trying hard not to think about who
was standing just feet away.  Really, a bit of wood, some air space,
not much separated them at all.  Physically, anyway.   Scully
mentally pulled her thoughts from the front room and back to the
matter at hand and reached for the shampoo bottle.  Whatever
Mulder wanted wasn't going to be pleasant, she decided.  She
finally reached for the tap and turned the water off.  

Stepping out of the tub, she shivered slightly.  The weather was
finally turning.  Unhurried, she pulled on slacks and a loose sweater. 
Wiping the mirror clear, she carefully combed her hair and rubbed
lotion onto her cheeks.  She brushed her teeth.  When there wasn't
anything left to do, she stepped up to the door.

Time to face whatever music was rumbling around in Mulder's
head.

He was leaning against her couch, arms folded across his chest,
when she emerged.  He looked angry, dangerous, and good enough
to eat.  

Scully headed for the refrigerator, pulled out a pitcher and poured a
glass of orange juice and took a long swallow. 

"All right, Mulder, give."  She set the glass down on the kitchen
table.

"I know what's going on."

"You want to clarify that a little?"

"You and Vega.  I know what's happening."

Scully folded her arms over her chest.  "And that would be what
exactly?"

In three quick strides, Mulder was in front of her, in her space.  She
felt the kitchen table bumping at her backside.

"This – this is what's happening."  His voice was flat and hard as he
reached for her arm and pushed up the sleeve of her sweater.

"Mulder it's none of your business."  She tried to tug her arm out of
his grasp, but his fingers tightened.  Scully tugged harder.  "Let go,
you're hurting me."

"I thought you liked that."

"Not here, not now, not you. Let go!"

Mulder dropped her arm and stepped back.  "I don't understand why
you would do this to yourself.  Let him use you like that."

Scully sighed.  "No one is using me, Mulder.  If anything, I'm using
him."  Her demeanor was curt  "But like I said, it isn't your
business, it's mine."

Mulder approached her again, this time lifting her hand gently, his
skin warm against her slightly chilled fingers.  He pushed her sleeve
back and turned her hand over to expose her wrist.  It appeared a bit
chafed.  He pushed the sleeve further.  The bruises were fading to a
mottled yellow.  Mulder placed his fingers on them softly.  Scully
shivered under his touch.

"He must be doing some kinda head job on you, Scully, that he can
convince you to do this."

"Mulder," Her voice was almost mild.  "This isn't something new
for me.  It isn't as if Leo has brainwashed me, or indoctrinated me
into some bizarre ritual.  If anything, it was the other way around."  

Mulder had dropped his head, staring at the floor. "Mulder look at
me," she said quietly.  He raised his head slowly.  "I'm not doing
anything dangerous.  The bruises were an accident, okay?"

"What about what the fortune teller said?  About how you can't
erase one kind of pain with another?"

"You expect me to take someone called Madam Zorina seriously?"

"Answer the question, Scully."

Scully crossed her arms and scowled.  "Maybe she's wrong. Maybe
you can replace one pain with another." 

"I can't believe that this is you, Scully."

"Come on, Mulder, it can't be that big a surprise."

"How come I never noticed anything like this before?  We were
partners a long time, Scully." 

"Maybe you weren't paying attention."

He raised his eyebrows.  "Really.  You think in all that time I
wouldn't have noticed something like *this*?"  He yanked her arm
into the air. 

"I... "  Scully swallowed.  "Things have been a bit – more intense
than they used to be -- since your marriage."

Mulder flinched away from her, anger coming off him in waves.  "It
just doesn't seem like you.  The Scully I knew didn't let people
push her around, wouldn't have let this happen.  She would have
had too much pride."

"Things have changed, Mulder.  I've changed.  Besides, It doesn't
have anything to do with pride or lack thereof."

"You want to explain it to me, then?"

"Not really."

"That's not good enough."

"Mulder, just go.  Go home.  This doesn't concern you."

"It does concern me, Scully.  I think those dreams I was having were
telling me... were warning me about this.  I don't like to see you
hurt."

"Well, that's very sweet, but about two years too late."

"I've been trying, Scully.  Thinking of ways to make things right so
that we could be friends again.  I'm not too good at it, apparently."

"What does Karen think of all this?"

Mulder frowned.  "Between her packing and travel arrangements, I
haven't thought to ask."

"Packing?"

Mulder nodded shortly.  "She's going back to California for a bit. 
She has some ‘loose ends' to tie up."

"I see."

"Yes."

"Is everything all right?"

"I came here to talk about you, not me."

"Gotta give a little, Mulder, to get a little."

Suddenly deflated, he dropped to the couch.  "It's been coming for a
long time.  Something just isn't clicking.  The funny thing is, for the
most part, we get along fine."  Mulder shook his head, as if trying to
rid it of something unpleasant.  "It's probably better this way."

"I'm sorry, Mulder."

He shrugged.  "Your turn.  Why?"

Still feeling antagonistic, she leaned carefully against the table
behind her.  She spoke in cool, measureed tones.  "It still isn't any
of your business, but a deal's a deal.  It's hard to explain.  It all
comes back to control.  Needing to be in control, needing to give it
away.  I can immerse myself in a different world, a world where I
can be and do what I want.  Where there are no X-Files, no cancer
or remission, no aliens, no conspiracies.  There isn't anything in that
world but me, my desires.  I need that – escape.  For most of my
life, I've been bound up by rules and regulations.  I... need to be
pushed over the edge sometimes.  I've needed that lately."

"And just plain sex doesn't do it for you, huh, Scully?"

"Exactly what is ‘plain sex', Mulder?  Does it include fellatio? 
Cunnilingus?  Only the missionary position?"  His attitude had
sparked her anger again and she fought to keep her voice level.

"You know what I mean."  Mulder's voice was clipped.

Scully paused, not sure of what to say.  A small sliver of thought
had been pricking her.  She supposed now was as good a time as
any to bring it up.

"How about you?  Don't you ever... play games, Mulder?"

"Games?  That's what you think these are?"  He pushed up from the
couch and began to pace.  "You've got lines of bruised up your
arms from a game?"

"Essentially, yes."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's true."  Scully could feel the beginnings of a headache
pressing behind her eyes.  "Mulder, I find it hard to believe, you of
all people, wouldn't understand at least some of this."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what it means!  You're a psychologist, for God's sake. 
You're supposed to understand things like this.  And you yourself
have a huge capacity for suffering."  She pinched the bridge of her
nose, hoping to ease the mushrooming pain in her head.  "Don't you
and Karen ever..."

"I've never left bruises."  He snapped, his body rigid with agitation. 
"I *don't* understand, Scully."  

"Actually, I think you might."

Mulder glared at her.

"I've seen that video collection of yours."

Mulder snorted and turned away.

"Mulder, it's just something that people do."  She looked at his
tense expression and amended her statement.  "That some people
do.  Mulder..."

 "Not you.  I don't understand.  Not when it comes to you."

She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning back into the table.  "Then I
can't help you, Mulder.  Whatever you think, I'm the same  person I
was before.  I don't know what to tell you."

She heard the soft click of a door closing.  She didn't need to open
her eyes to know that Mulder had left.
          
********************

"Karen, what do you know about the psychology of bondage and
sado-masicism?"

"Excuse me?  BDSM?" Mulder had surprised her.  She looked up
from the laundry basket sitting on the bed in front of her.  Her dark
hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"What do you know about it?"

"A bit, why?  I'd think you'd know as much as I do.  You're the one
with the Oxford PhD.  I'm just a regular state educated
psychologist."

"Humor me, okay?  I want to compare notes.  Besides, you have
that shrink friend who treats people that engage in BDSM, right?"

"I wouldn't say he treats people *for* that, but a good many of his
clients do seem to have... experience in that area."  Karen picked up
one of Mulder's ubiquitous grey t-shirts and tossed it to him to fold.

"So tell me about them.  What are they like?"

"Well, from what Glen's told me, most of his clients are men,
interested in being dominated.  They have, on the whole,
responsible, if not important jobs.  They are generally well educated
and successful.  Their lives tend toward the stressful."  Karen
stacked the towel she was folding atop its mate.  "Why the sudden
interest?"

Mulder shrugged.  "I wanted to get some first hand experience, per
se.  Or second hand, as the case may be."

"Is this about you disappearing last week?"

"Karen, I didn't disappear.  I was just in D.C. visiting some old
friends."

"Uh huh."

"You were in California, my projects here were going nowhere.  I
just needed to make some contact."  His voice was softer.  "I had
another dream about Scully."

Karen nodded almost imperceptibly.  Her voice held in check  "So
you went to see her.  I know.  You couldn't have used the phone or
e-mail?"

"Karen..."

Karen sighed and tugged at her ponytail.  "I went to see her too, at
the Bureau, when I got worried about you.  I can see why she's
made such an impression on you."

"How do you mean?"

"I found her to be – impressive, in a sort of understated way."

"Hmm."  An apt description, he thought, turning it over in his mind. 
"So getting back to this bondage thing..."

"Mulder, are you trying to tell me something?"  Karen quirked a
smile at him.

"I'm worried about Scully.  That she's gotten herself into a situation
that isn't good for her."

"Isn't good for her, or isn't good for you?"

Mulder scowled.  "How could it be not good for me?  I'm just
trying to make sure she's okay."

"What does Scully say?"

Mulder shrugged.  "Not much, except that I should basically mind
my own business."

"From what little I saw of her when we met, and from what you've
told me about her, I don't see her as a person who does things she
doesn't want to do."

"That doesn't negate the fact that she still might want to do things
that aren't good for her."  

"No, I guess it wouldn't."  Karen began moving a pile of folded
jeans to the dresser behind her.  "Mulder, I think that unless you
have some really compelling reasons, you should leave it be."

"She had bruises."

"You think she is being abused?"

"No, not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

Mulder sighed.  "No.  Not in the way you're thinking."

"Ah, so that's why the questions on Greg's clientele."  She handed
Mulder a pile of his shorts.  "Just because you think it's wrong or
strange, doesn't mean everyone feels that way."

Mulder shook his head.  "I don't necessarily think it is wrong for
some people, just for Scully."

"Maybe you don't know her as well as you thought."

That had of course, occurred to Mulder, and it bothered him
intensely.  He moved to the window and stared out.  Up until just
recently, the weather had been warm enough for Karen's garden to
keep its bloom.  Black-eyed susans and daisies still colored the
backyard.

Karen lifted the now empty basket from the bed and stowed it in the
closet.  "I need to talk to you about something."  The tone of her
voice had changed.

"Yeah?"  He didn't move from the window.

"When I was in California, at the convention, I was offered a job.  A
good job, Mulder.  In California."  He heard her draw in a breath
and he knew what was coming.  "When I go back out there next
week, I think I may stay... a while.  I'm thinking that I'll take the
job."

********************

Well, when it rains, it pours, she thought considering the man sitting
across from her.  He wore a serious expression on his face, at odds
with the soft light spilling gently into the room from the window
behind her.  So much for a relaxing Sunday breakfast. 

"...so I want to know what you think, along those lines."  Leo
rubbed his hand up and down his forearm, clearly uneasy.

"About making this more permanent."  Scully said carefully and
Leo nodded to her.  With a sinking feeling, she stilled in her chair. 
"I can't... we've talked about this."  She looked down at the top of
Leo's hardwood table and traced a finger around the top of her
coffee cup.

"We talked about it nine months ago.  Things have changed.  I don't
want to wait any longer."

"I know," her voice was hesitant.  "Leo, I'm not prepared to make
any sort of commitment right now.  I know it isn't fair to you."

He sighed.  "That's what I figured."

"I'm sorry," she offered.

Leo drew his mouth into a grim line.  "Yeah, I know.  But not sorry
enough to change your mind."

"So now what happens?"

"Now I break my own heart and tell you I think we should stop
seeing each other.  I don't think I can stand it any other way.  It's
gotten to the all or nothing point for me."

"I'm sorry, Leo, I'm so sorry."  Scully felt tears pricking at the back
of her eyes.
                       
"Me too."    

*********************

The coffee shop was busy.  Servers wound around the linen covered
tables with precision – it seemed almost choreographed.  Scully
caught sight of her mother sitting at a corner table, already perusing
the menu.  As if on cue, she glanced up and spotted Scully, smiled
and waved.

"Sorry I'm late, Mom." Scully bent down and dropped a kiss on her
mother's cheek.

"Not too late.  I just got here a bit ago myself."  Maggie laid the
menu down on the table and gestured toward the seat across from
her.  "I got you coffee." 

Scully gave her a quick smile.  "Thanks."

"How's work?"

Scully grimaced.  "A hassle."

"And Leo?"

Scully reached for the coffee, punctured a container of cream and let
it drip into her cup before answering.  She kept her eyes trained on
the beverage in front of her. 

"Fine, I guess, he's fine."  She glanced up quickly at her mother,
then back down.  "We're not seeing each other any longer."

"Oh."

"Yeah, ‘oh'."

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm just surprised.  You seemed to get along so
well."

Scully shifted.  "Yes, mostly we did.  It's just... I couldn't make the
kind of commitment he wanted.  Not right now."

"There isn't any perfect moment, Dana.  If everyone waited until
things were just right, no one would ever get married."

Scully frowned.  "I wasn't necessarily talking about marriage,
Mom."

"I know, it was just an example."

Scully glanced up as a server approached their table.  His pressed
black pants and white shirt looked immaculate.  She wondered
vaguely if his shift had just begun.  

Maggie placed her order while Scully looked over the menu.  She
settled on a turkey club and handed her menu to the server.

"Honey, I'm sorry about Leo.  I didn't mean to sound harsh.  Your
life is up to you.  You know that."

"I know, Mom."

"I worry about you being alone sometimes."

"I'm not always alone.  I have friends.  And sometimes I prefer my
own company."

Maggie smiled at this.  "I know you do.  You're like your father in
that way.  As hard as his being away was, I sometimes wonder if
your father and I would have managed to stay married so long if he
hadn't had his time at sea." 

Surprised, Scully looked over the rim of her cup at her mother.  "I
don't think I've ever heard you say that before."

Maggie shrugged and picked up her own coffee.  She sipped it
carefully.  "Well, marriage isn't always a bed of roses, you know."

"Actually, I don't."  Scully smiled at her mother.  "But I can hazard
a guess"

Maggie smiled back.  "We had a good marriage, Dana.  Some
bumps, a few hills, but that's to be expected."  She set her cup down
deliberately.  "Speaking of friends and bumps, have you talked with
Fox lately?"

"About a week ago."

"And?"

"And not much,"  Scully said curtly.  "Why?"

"It would be kind of you to not be so hard on him."

"Since when were you a member of the Fox Mulder fan club?"  she
eyed Maggie skeptically.  A wary expression flitted across her
mother's face.  "He called you again, didn't he?"  She asked,
exasperated.

Maggie flushed guiltily.  "He was just concerned.  He wants so
much to make things right."

Scully was suddenly alert.  How much would Mulder have told her
mother?  Not much, she guessed.  Her mother seemed much the
same as usual, and Maggie Scully was not one for subterfuge. 

In rare moments in introspection, Scully wondered whether any
other members of her family had the same sexual leanings she did. 
Did the sting of a palm on skin arouse their ire, or arouse their
passions?  It wasn't as if she could discuss the subject with her
brothers.  Perhaps Missy, but Missy was gone.  She didn't even
want to speculate on what her parents intimate relations had been.  

Now she stared at her mother, caution pricking her.  "Concerned
about what?"  

"About you.  About him.  I think he feels the loss of your friendship
even more keenly now that his wife has left."

"Karen's gone?"

"You didn't know?"  Maggie was surprised.

Scully shook her head.  "He hinted at something like that the last
time I saw him, but I didn't think anything was – final."  Scully
leaned back in her chair.  "So now that she's gone, he wants to
make nice with me?"

"That's unfair.  I think he's been wanting to ‘make nice' for some
time.  For your own sake, you have to forgive him, Dana.  Talk to
him, find out why he did what he did.  There must have been a
reason."

Scully dropped her eyes and studied the delicate raised floral pattern
on the white cloth.  She ran a forefinger along the stem of a tulip. 
"It isn't as easy as it sounds.  I spent so long exorcising him from
my life – it's difficult to just let him back in.  How do I know that
he isn't just going to decide that..."  

That he might decide he didn't need her again.  That she was an
impediment in his life.    She couldn't bring herself to finish the
sentence.  The raw pain she had felt two years ago rose unheeded to
the surface.  Scully felt her jaw clench as she forced it back down,
back where it belonged, where it didn't hurt so much, buried under
the layers of her everyday life.  The life she had made without
Mulder.

She looked up at her mother and back down again, flushed and
embarrassed.  It wasn't like her to break down so easily.  Recent
events were taking their toll.  Mulder's re-appearance and Leo's
decision to break things off were upsetting the status quo she  had
fought to establish.   Her feelings were raw and she was finding it
harder to keep them leashed.

Across the table, Maggie made a sympathetic murmur.  She reached 
over and gave her daughter's hand a squeeze.  "I know it's hard for
you.  Sometimes the things that are really worth doing are hard."

The server was at Scully's elbow with their order.  Conversation
lapsed into the mundane.

Just as the server was clearing away their empty plates, Maggie
leaned forward.  "Dana, isn't that that friend of yours?  Over near
the door?"

Scully turned around to see Byers hovering near the entrance,
scanning the dining area.  She lifted an arm and caught his attention. 
Byers hurried over. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt lunch like this.  But," he turned toward
Scully his vioce low.  "I need to talk to you.  As soon as possible." 
There was an undercurrent of urgency in his voice.

Maggie pushed her chair back.  "I was just leaving."

"No, Mrs. Scully, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, really.  We were just finishing.  Dana, let me give you
something for the check."  Maggie scooped up her purse and began
rummaging around in it.

"No, Mom, I've got it."  Maggie hesitated, but Scully waved her off. 
"It's fine.  Really."

"All right.  Thank you, sweetie."  Maggie bent down and drop
kissed her daughters cool cheek.  "I'll give you a call."

Byers slid into the vacated seat.  Scully waited.  She didn't bother to
ask how Byers knew where she was.  It was a given, she figured,
that he would be able to find her almost anywhere she went.

"Well?"

Byers leaned forward and spoke quietly.  "I need a favor."

Scully nodded.  Waves of contained excitement poured off the man
across the table.  "I'll do my best."

Byers withdrew an envelope, glancing around at the other café
patrons.  "I need to find out whose fingerprint this is.  I was hoping
you could check it out for me quietly."

Scully pursed her lips.  "I'll try, Byers.  Where did you get it?"

"It was sent to me by an associate.  I suspect it may be Susanne's."

Scully tamped down her surprise.  "Susanne?  What does it mean?"

Byers shook his head.  "I don't know.  I keep vacillating.  I can't
decide if it's a good sign of a bad one."

"Where did your contact get the print?"

Byers let his eyes travel around the room again.  "I've told you
about as much as I can say at the moment."

Scully reached across the table and squeezed his arm gently.  "I'll
do what I can."

********************

Scully hadn't gotten to the Latent Print Unit of the Bureau's labs
until late Monday afternoon.  By then, most of the lab techs had
either gone home, or were preparing to do so.  

Fortunately, Sofia Brooker was still in.  She was hunched over a
work station, furiously scribbling notes onto a yellow legal pad. 
Scully approached her slowly, giving the other woman time to finish
writing.

"Well, Dana, hello.  You haven't darkened our doorstep in quite a
while.  These days, we usually see one of your minions."  The older
woman smiled.

Scully winced.  Minions, indeed.  "Sofia, if you weren't so close to
retirement, and if I didn't need a favor..."

Sofia snorted.  "Favor?  Figures.  Let's see it,"  she said, nodding at
the envelope in Scully's hand.

Scully extracted a black piece of thick paper.  On it was a white
fingerprint with clear tape over the top.

"Not the most professional job."  Sofia held the paper under the
work station's desk lamp.  "But it'll do.  What do you need"

"Everything.  I need you to check both the criminal and civilian
databases."  She looked Sofia in the eye.  "I need you to check any
government databases you may have access to also."

"All right.  Not a problem."  

"And Sofia?"  Scully's voice was low and she moved a step closer
to the other woman.  "This is important to me on a personal level.  It
can't be strictly classified as FBI business."
  
Sofia pursed her lips.  "I gotcha.  I was gonna stay late anyhow. 
Burn the midnight oil.  I'll run this tonight.  Just me and J. Edgar's
ghost."

"Thank you.  I owe you one."

"Actually,"  said Sofia tucking the black paper into a manila folder, 
"I think you owe me about three.  But whose counting?  Check with
me tomorrow evening.  Same bat time, same bat channel."  She
gave Scully a quirky smile and waved her off.  "Now I've got stuff
to do.  Shoo!"

Scully shoo'd.

When she arrived back in her office, Agent Pittman was sitting in
the chair across from her desk.

********************

For the third time in as many weeks, Agent Pittman had found his
hard drive sabotaged.  More files were missing, folders has been
renamed, and someone had left another cryptic message in his e-
mail.

"I don't know what to make of it, Agent Scully.  I thought using a
password would help, but it hasn't seemed to have made any
difference."

Scully nodded.  "You have no idea who would want to do this sort
of thing?"

Alan shook his head.  "I did get some strange e-mail.  I've printed
them out."  He put a manila folder on Scully's desk.  "You can have
these."

Scully opened the folder and picked up the first printed message. 
Pittman's voice broke in.  "I put them in chronological order."

She nodded and began reading.  ‘File me under "interested".' / 
‘Pencil Me into your life! ;)' / ‘Every day and every way, I'm paying
attention.' / ‘Let me report how I feel. xxoo' /  ‘Re-route your love
my way.' /  ‘I'm watching.  Scully came to the last one on the page:
‘Don't underestimate me.'

Scully raised her eyes to look at Pittman.  "How long have you been
receiving this kind of thing?"

"About two months, I think."

"You think?"

"When it started, I thought it was a joke.  I didn't pay much
attention.  I've only started saving the messages recently.  When
they started to get... sorta freaky."

"Freaky's a good word for it."  Scully murmured, eyeing the papers
in front of her.  "This is out of my area of expertise.  We should get
someone else involved."

"I was thinking, I wonder if they have anything to do with those
missing reports of mine."

Scully lifted an eyebrow.

Pittman nodded and gestured at the reports.  "It's the language.  The
references to reports and files.  A kind of office theme...  Maybe
they're meant to warn me about something?  Who would do that?"

"You've got a point.  Maybe this is internal.  It's hard for me to tell
from this if it's a single person with a grudge or a concerted effort to
make the X-Files look bad."  Scully shook her head.  "Like I said,
it's really out of my area of expertise."

"I figured it would be,"  Pittman replied, then colored, realizing
what he had said.   "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I just meant that..."  

Scully glanced at him, amused.  "It's all right, Alan.  I know what
you meant."

Alan leaned forward suddenly, his face earnest.  "Do you think you
could get Ag... umm, Mr. Mulder to look at these?  He was a
profiler, maybe he could give us some insight?  If it's someone in
the Bureau doing this to deliberately sabotage our work...   You said
it wasn't the first time strange things have happened."

"Yes, I did, didn't I?"  Scully answered.  Then reluctantly she said,
"I suppose I could ask Mulder take a look at these."

"Thanks.  It would make me feel better."

Scully gave Agent Pittman a tight smile.  "I'll see what I can do."

********************

When she had called and asked for a favor, he had wanted to turn
her down.  When she had said ‘Please' in a tone of voice that made
his bones ache, he agreed.

She sat across from him now, absently  stirring cream into her stale
coffee while he went through Alan Pittman's e-mails.  He risked at
glance at Scully.  She was staring out the window.  The day was
overcast and the flat grey light painted her eyes.  He knew it had
cost her to call him.

"So, how are the X-Files these days?"  he asked, still sorting
through the papers on the table in front of him.

Scully shrugged.  "They're fine.  Alan's a good agent.  So is Mike
Davies.  It's nice to be up in the sunlight, but I don't get out in the
field as much as I used to."

"Miss it?"  he asked, still trying to gauge her mood.

She turned her slate grey gaze on him.  A strange aching look
flickered there for a moment before she turned back to the window. 
"All the time."  

Mulder cleared his throat, suddenly uneasy.  He reshuffled Alan
Pittman's e-mails and tapped them with a forefinger.  

"From what you've said, and from what I've read here, I'd say that
this is a personal grudge.  Have you had any particular problems
with anything or anyone lately?  In general, I mean."         

"Outside the situation with Agent Pittman, no.  Just the usual flack
from above.  That sort of thing.  About the same as when you where
with the Bureau."  Her voice was matter of fact.  If it weren't for the
fact that she was worrying her spoon, he would have thought her
completely disinterested.

"I assume you cautioned him, one way or the other?"

Scully nodded.

"What else can you tell me?"

A heavy sigh.  "Not much.  Frohike and Langly didn't find anything
telling when they looked at Pittman's machine.  Just that whoever
fooled with it really didn't know too much about what he or she was
doing.  Langly recovered most of the hard drive's data without too
much of a problem."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you need to turn this over to
Skinner."

Scully nodded, pressing her lips together in a semblance of a smile. 
"Thanks.  Thanks for taking the time.  Alan will appreciate it."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Appreciate it, Scully."

She bowed her head, hair falling in front of her face.  "Of course I
do, Mulder.  Of course I do."

On impulse, he reached across the formica table and laid his hand
over hers.  "I miss you.  Tell me what I have to do so that we can
stop being like this.  You're too far away – it hurts."

Scully's head jerked up in surprise, distress written across her
features.

"It hurts?  Now you think it hurts?  I've been hurting since the
moment I got back from Ireland and discovered you didn't want..." 
The words were choked off and she turned to face the window
again.  "I don't know what to do.  I don't know that I can put my
whole faith in you again.  I can't risk it."

"I know it's hard, Scully.  And I'm trying to forgive and forget. 
Can't you?"

"Forgive?  What exactly did I do to you, Mulder?  I went away for a
couple well deserved months of relaxation.  I don't feel bad about
that."

Mulder struggled to keep his voice low and bit back the anger that
threatened.   "I ended up in the hospital when you were gone."

She nodded.  "I was sorry, *am* sorry about that, but I don't see
how what I didn't even know about can be held against me."
  
"I needed you there.  I know it's unfair, but at the time I wasn't
thinking clearly.  I had Skinner, but no one else I thought I could
trust.  I was afraid – paranoid from the relapse probably – I thought
the hospital or doctors were just making things worse.  Skinner
assured me that they were doing their best, that he was keeping tabs
on things.  But he wasn't you.  And he didn't have your medical
background."  

Mulder took a wavering breath.  "That's when I met Karen. She
convinced me that I should contact you if it would ease my mind. 
By then, I was more rational.  So I called.  I had your cousin's
phone number, and I called."  He stopped there, unsure of how to go
on.

"And?"  Scully asked softly.

"And... and you weren't there.  You hadn't been for days.  The
woman who answered the phone said you would likely be home
after the weekend.  That you had gone away with a friend.  Colin.  A
friend you'd been spending a lot of time with.  Apparently, it was
your second trip with this guy."  The words came out in a tangle of
anger and despair.  "I remember thinking, how could she?  How
could she be so cavalier?  Sculy, I wanted to crawl into a dark hole,
curl up and never come out."

Mortified, Scully stared at him.  "I'm sorry, Mulder.  I didn't know. 
I had no idea you called.  At the time, I had no idea you were in the
hospital again.  And I had no idea that you..."  She stopped, the
words hung between them.

"Cared?"  he supplied.  "How could you not think I cared?  After
my mother died, I thought you understood how much you meant to
me."

"I... Mulder, I knew you cared in some way, but I wasn't sure in
what way.  I just thought that things would go back to normal.  To
the way they had always been."

"Did ‘the way things had always been' include you screwing
around?"  His voice was full of bitterness and frustration.

"I think you know better than that."  She had gone cold on him
again.  Distant.  Her eyes and mouth were hard.  "Besides, I wasn't
under the impression that we had some sort of fidelity  pact – you
certainly didn't give me cause to think that.  I know for a fact,
Mulder, that you've done your share of ‘screwing around' while we
were partnered."

"That was before.  Before."

"Before?  Before what?  Before we spent the night together?  One
night?  I was supposed to get all of this out of that one grief filled
night when you found out your mother committed suicide?  Mulder,
you could barely even look me in the eye after that night."  Her
voice was a tightly controlled ball of fury.  She was gripping her
coffee cup like it would fly away if she let go.  Her fingers had gone
white where they pressed onto the mug's surface.

"I thought you understood."

"Understood what?  What was there to understand?  That we finally
slept together and that you regretted it?  I got that."  she spat out.

Scully pushed back from the table, retreating into the booth as far as
possible.  "I thought then, that I could take it.  That things would be
fine as long as we could continue on as partners, as friends.  When I
came back from Ireland and found that you had left, resigned – I
was lost.  Angry, confused and hurt.  It was as if I had stepped into
someone else's shoes.  Someone who was me, but wasn't me. 
‘Here you go Agent Scully.  Here's your new partner, your old one
is gone.  Just a huge gaping hole where Mulder used to be. Here's
your new life'.

"It took me months, months, Mulder, to get some perspective back
and get on with my life.  Even then, it wasn't the same.  I was
functioning, but that was it.  What hurt the most was knowing that
you were an hour's drive away, and that you couldn't be bothered to
see me, to return my calls or acknowledge my attempts to contact
you. I felt like someone had cut out my insides."

Mulder fell back, slumping against the back of the booth.  The old
vinyl was hard against his spine.   "I didn't regret anything, Scully. 
Not one thing about that night.  I don't know what to say except that
after my mother's death, and the whole business with discovering
what happened with Samantha, that I was emotionally frazzled. 
Tapped out."

"Frazzled.  Gotcha."  Scully's voice was dull, tired.  "And after
that?  Why cut me off completely?  Were you so disgusted with me
that you couldn't even answer an e-mail?"

"It wasn't that."  His words felt heavy on his tongue.  "After I got
married – I really wanted to make it work, Scully.  I tried so hard.  I
didn't want to risk anything.  Allowing myself to contact you would
have been disastrous.  I felt overwhelmed, sometimes, just thinking
about you.  Wondering what you were doing.  I couldn't contact
you.  Not without messing up everything I had with Karen."

Scully was silent, staring into her coffee again.  One finger followed
the arc of the mug's handle, the other twitched against its side.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out with Karen.  I liked her."

"Yeah, me too,"  Mulder's mouth twitched.

They sat without speaking for several minutes.  Mulder watched as
the grey of the day turned darker and small, fine drops of rain
peppered the window next to him.

"Mulder about Colin... it wasn't what you thought.  He was just a
friend.  In fact, had you been there, he would have been more
interested in sleeping with you."  Her voice held no trace of the
previous acrimony.

Mulder let his eyelids close and dropped his head back.  "I'm sorry,
I just assumed..."

"An easy assumption to make.  It's okay.  I would probably have
thought the same thing myself."  Scully gave him a small, tight
smile.

Mulder exhaled.  "Can we start over with this?"

"With what, Mulder?"

"Everything.  With everything."  His voice held a pleading quality,
his eyes were hopeful.  "Give it a shot.  Please?"

She studied him for a moment, pain, anger and yearning mixing in
her eyes.  Mulder leaned over the table toward her.  "Please?"

She was still for another moment, then, slowly, she offered him her
right hand.  "Hi, my name is Dana Scully and I've been assigned to
work with you."

********************

In the morning, there was a post-it stuck to Scully's office door. 
‘Lowly lab tech requests the presence of Her Highness Doctor Dana
in the Latent Print Unit at five.  Bring cheese.'

Scully's mouth twitched upward and she peeled the note from the
door.

At fifteen minutes after five Scully went down the to Latent Print
Unit bearing cheese.  Well, what passed for cheese in the cafeteria
anyhow.  Sofia was again bent over her work station intent on
scribbling something on the paper in front of her.

Scully peered over Sofia's shoulder.  "You're designing a
crossword?"  she asked, surprised.

"Hobby of mine.  Gives me something to do in the wee hours of the
night when I can't sleep."  Sofia pushed back away from the work
station.  "I got your results, kiddo."

"And?"

Sofia rifled through a stack of printouts at her right.  "Prints belong
to a Susanne Modeski.  Don't ask me where I found her.  You
wouldn't believe it."  She handed the printout to Scully.

"Are you sure?  Susanne Modeski?"  Scully couldn't keep the
excitement out of her voice.  It was better than she hoped.  

Sofia scowled.  "Yes, I'm sure.  I'm not the new kid of the block,
you know.  Where's my cheese?"

Scully handed her the pilfered cheddar wrapped in tinfoil.  "This is
just a stand-in until I can get the good stuff.  I promise."

"Humph,"  Sofia sniffed.  "I better be getting some top notch gouda
out of this."

"Anything you want.  I really appreciate this.  It means a lot to me." 
Scully slipped the printout into her jacket pocket.

"No problem, Dana."  Sofia turned back to the crossword.  
"Anything for Your Holiness."

********************
cont'd in part 7

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