Title: Flight Delayed (1/4)
Author: Tesla
Address: gah1093@hiwaay.net
Rating: NC-17 (sexual situations, adult language & lawyers)
Category: Mulder/Other
Spoilers: Assume that this alternate universe careens off track after "Field
Trip,"
      But spoilers for "Orison".
Archive: Sure, everyone, I would be in a tizzy of pleasure and tell everyone
I knew.
Feedback: See above, only I'll also write charming replies.
Disclaimer: If Ten Thirteen is even reading this, settle with Duchovny!
Summary: Continuation of "Flying Under the Radar",  "Gaining Altitude", and
"Some Turbulence Expected"

THANKS to Emerex for excellent beta work, and general encouragement, and for
giving me my own little webpage at home.hiwaay.net/~gah1093; and to the
small select band of folks on my reading list-and Fran58's site, at
www.atmosphere.be/media/fran58, which first hosted my stories, and gives a
place for new authors.



 So here Scully was, sitting in Mulder's apartment, talking to his
ex-girlfriend. And said ex was not a stripper, not a Hooter's waitress or an
aerobics instructor, but a criminal defense attorney. Her attorney, if she
wanted. In case the county prosecutor arrested her for killing Donnie
Pfaster. And what Scully wanted, more than anything, was to put her face in
the couch cushions and weep, weep for both of them, both of them Mulder's
women (although he wasn't having sex with either of them, as far as Scully
knew).

  Mulder had talked her into seeing Janet Durrell almost immediately. "These
cops are making noises like they want to arrest you," he said angrily,
urgently, kneeling beside her as she sat at her kitchen table. "I've put
them off. But this one idiot seems to think it was a lover's quarrel."
Scully barely made it to the sink before retching. Mulder got her a glass of
water, a wet paper towel, before continuing his hissing in her ear. "You
need to see a lawyer."

 "Where am I going to find a lawyer on Sunday morning?" she choked, trying
not to hyperventilate. "The Bureau-"

 Mulder looked straight in her eyes. "Janet. She's home. She's across the
street from my place.  That's what she does, Scully. She's a defense lawyer.
She's smart. She'll fight for you.  And she knows a hell of a lot more about
the X-Files and all the shit we've seen than anyone the Personnel Office
would recommend. And she won't be a Bureau flack. She's told me a hundred
times that there's a conflict of interest with the Bureau and with an agent
under investigation."

 "Damn, Mulder, she's not gonna help me," Scully spat.

 "Yes, she will. I'm the one who-I didn't stop seeing her because of you,
and she knows that." He paused. "I told her a lot about the work. About
Tooms, and the Jersey Devil, and Pfaster, and Bill Patterson. She knows
about our work. You won't have to bring her up to speed. And she's good."

 Scully couldn't believe she was even considering talking to Janet. "Why did
you stop seeing her, then?" she asked bitterly.

 Mulder blinked twice. "Because I'm a fucked-up shit," he said levelly.
 "Is that what she said?" Scully demanded.
 "No, that's what I say." His eyes, already bloodshot, grew darker. "But
Janet will help you." He stood up, slowly, knees cracking. He looked down at
her. "Because I'll ask her."

 "And she'll do it? Because you ask her?"

 He turned away, head down, his hands on his hips. "Yeah."




 The District cops just wanted Scully to "come downtown" that afternoon.
Mulder, having made his phone calls to Janet, and, presumably, Skinner,
dragged Scully out the door to his car, and drove like a maniac to his
apartment. Like he was afraid Janet would change her mind and tell him to
stuff it. He pulled out his cellular and said, "We're here." He listened.
"No, it's late. Meet us downstairs." He locked Scully in his car, and loped
across the street to the entrance of the other apartments. Scully thought
sullenly that if Mulder had known Scully had spied on him there, he wouldn't
be so cavalier in his assumptions.

 He had no idea how carefully she had observed him, back in December, when
he abruptly changed from his abnormal cheerfulness into full-blown Mulder
the Miserable Victim of Fate.  He didn't go home early, any more, or she
else she saw him leave for the gym. He was casting an even deeper gloom than
usual through the basement: Mulder, the dark star. So, she had seized upon
one of his usual groanings over the Bureau's Christmas memos, to ask him if
he was seeing Janet over the holidays.  "No," he had said, and changed the
subject. And he continued being the familiar Mulder she was accustomed to.
Even the whole New Year's Eve extravaganza of the Undead, complete with
mandatory visit to an emergency room, and the kiss, was within normal
operating perimeters. She had fully expected him to kiss her, given his
usual Pavlovian response to anything he was watching on television.

 There they were, walking towards her, Janet with a legal pad, pages flying
in the breeze, long coat open over sweats. She nodded briefly at Scully,
getting out of the car, and they walked into Mulder's building, Mulder
giving his version the entire time. Finally, in the elevator, the other
woman turned to Mulder. "Be quiet, Fox, " she said, her voice gravelly. "I
want to talk to Agent Scully. Alone." She held up her hand, palm out, as he
started to speak. "Attorney-Client privilege, remember? Don't worry, we'll
talk later." They were at the apartment door, and Janet gave him a tiny push
away. "Go get us some coffee and donuts." She shut the door on him, and
looked around before walking to the couch.

 She sat down, and looked up at Scully. Her gaze was very clear and steady.
"What are the cops gonna say?" she asked. "Well, wait. Is this the mortician
with the fingernail fixation?" She stood up and pulled off her coat. "Where'
s the bathroom?"

 Scully stared, pointed to it. "Don't you know?" she couldn't help herself.

 "I've never been over here," Janet said, without inflection, and
disappeared in the direction indicated.
 Scully collapsed in the chair, mute. What a morning.

 When Janet came back, and sat down, Scully was shaken by a glimpse of
sadness on her face her brown eyes almost black. Then it was gone. "Nicest
single-guy bathroom I've been in for years," Janet said approvingly.

 "Thank you for seeing me," Scully said. It wasn't as hard as she had
thought. "I wouldn't, in your shoes. I wasn't very friendly when we met
before."

 Janet raised her eyebrows. "I've represented law enforcement cases," she
said, clearly making Mulder off-limits.  Scully thought, But we have so much
in common! We should form a support group, ask Fowley, call that English
bitch?Hi, I'm Dana and I work with Fox Mulder.

 Janet picked up her legal pad. "I don't want you to confess to me. I want
to know what you did up to the point of the shooting. Don't tell me about
the shooting. Tell me everything until then."

 So Scully did. Janet made notes, only interjecting the occasional "Shit!"
Strangely enough, Scully felt quieter, herself. Janet seemed to radiate
massive calm and confidence, even with bed hair. By the time Mulder
reappeared, with, Scully was surprised to see, cartons of coffee and a box
of Dunkin' Donuts, Janet seemed to have what she wanted. She wrote steadily,
her face almost placid.

 "We'll want your boss to messenger the first casefile to the cops.
Eventually. Let me have a copy of everything, first." she told Mulder,
popping the lid of her cup. Delicately sipping at the coffee, she held out
the pad to Mulder. "Write down exactly what you're telling the cops and your
boss." Waving aside the paper, Mulder went over to his desk and sat down at
his computer. Janet motioned to Scully. "C'mere." Warily, Scully sat down.
"You knew he was going to kill you," she said quietly. Scully nodded. "You
were tied. He prepared the bath. He brought the candles and lit them. You
got loose. You got your gun." Janet paused, running a finger along her
eyebrow. "Did you know Mulder was there?" she asked.

 "I thought I was still alone with him," Scully said, and shivered. " When I
came out of the bedroom. But right after-I mean right after-I knew Mulder
was there."
 "All you could see was Pfaster," Janet stated. She looked straight at
Scully for emphasis. "You know, you did the right thing. You know that a bad
situation only gets worse. You know that you have to defend yourself by any
means necessary." Scully nodded, and then jumped slightly, like someone
coming out of a trance. She was sitting knee to knee with Janet, both her
hands gripping Janet's left hand.

 "They can't charge you," Janet said, her voice deeply satisfied. She
disengaged herself from Scully's clasp, and stood up abruptly. "What time do
they want her?" she asked Mulder.

 "One, " he said over his shoulder. He was watching the printer, but he got
up as Janet walked over to him. "Let me walk you back." He was still wearing
his jacket. She plucked the paper from the printer, leaning around him.

 "Dana, I'll see you later on today. Don't say a goddamn word until I'm with
you." They left the apartment, and Scully heard their footsteps recede.


 In the elevator, Mulder turned to Janet. "You're the best," Mulder said
thickly. Janet shrugged, her lip curling cynically.

 "I'm billing you," she said, trying for snottiness and failing. She was
startled when Mulder put his hands on her shoulders.

 "You are the best person I know," he said. He dropped his hands as the
elevator stopped; the door opened and closed as they stared at each other.
Mulder gently took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the palm.
It took all of Janet's strength not to snatch it away, not to slap him and
run. Or throw herself in his arms. She couldn't keep from letting her face
show her misery, her eyes from filling with tears.

 "I must be. I must be a fool," she choked.  "I must be a fucking idiot."

 "No," Mulder said, and kissed her, his hands tight and painful on her arms.
She wanted to fall into him. She shook him loose, but gently, and they
walked across the street in silence. Mulder let her get her own key out, and
when she looked up at him to say goodbye, he kissed her again, on her open
mouth.

 At the police station:
 "She's a victim, god damn it!" Janet insisted. She was nose to nose with
the assistant district attorney. "He already attacked her once. He escaped
just to kill her! He brought the candles-read the fuckin' file! That's his
MO. This is a serial killer for God's sake." Scully moved her eyes to look
at Mulder. He was concentrating on Janet's face with all the interest he
customarily showed at budget meetings-a game face for the cops, Scully
thought with one disinterested part of her mind. The other parts of her mind
were blank
 "I read it as a deliberate killing. Her partner was there-he had his weapon
drawn-"
 "Yeah? Well, she's gonna testify she didn't know he was there!" The two
women seemed to realize that a roomful of cops was watching them in
open-mouthed fascination, and they went into an office, slamming the door.
Scully was hunched over, her face milky pale. Mulder looked like a man with
a bleeding ulcer. No one said anything in the outer room.

 "They think we're gonna catfight, Darla," Janet said mildly, sitting down
in the chair in front of the desk. Darla Skemp, the veteran ADA, perched on
the desk.
 "Yeah, well, I tend to agree with you. I don't want to prosecute. But for
some reason, the sergeant felt like something was funny." She pushed her
glasses up her nose. "I admit, it's a waste of time."
 "Darla, a grand jury would no-bill it. We're talking Clarice Starling and
Silence of the Lambs here. She should be commended, not charged. The only
thing she has to worry about is the internal investigation. She didn't know
her partner was there, and she could have shot him. But that's not our
problem. Since she didn't know her partner had come in the front, there's no
intent. And since she had every reason to believe she was about to be
tortured to death, she has every element of self-defense. C'mon. Don't you
think I could get a straight acquittal? Hell, I could get a straight
dismissal at preliminary." The desk creaked as Janet shifted.
"I-could-sell-it," she chanted, in a singsong. "You don't wanna charge a
fed."

 Darla looked at the copy of the X-File in her hands. "Yeah, I tend to
agree. Okay. No charges. I'll have them file self-defense." She raised an
eyebrow. "But you'll have a time with those dildos in Reno's office, if you
don't put the right spin on it."
 "Mulder's taking care of that."

 "Jesus, that's another thing. Get him out of here, before some other corpse
turns up. My officers hate him. Call me this week about your dear little
mugger."


 The door opened, and Scully found herself looking not at the ADA, but at
Janet. Janet smiled faintly at her. "We're done here, guys. As far as the
District Attorney's office is concerned, it's self-defense." Scully felt her
vision blacken for a moment. When she recovered her self-possession, Janet
had left with the ADA. She could hear their voices outside in the hall for a
moment. She looked at Mulder, but he wasn't looking at her. His head was
bowed.


 After Mulder had driven her home, he and Scully had spent all Sunday
clearing the debris, throwing out the rug, and generally trying to remove
all traces of "crime scene." Mulder was in his most infuriating mood, making
stupid jokes about everything, going to IKEA for a new mirror without
consulting her, calling Frohike! to come help them. Melvin refused, thank
God. But she managed to get rid of Mulder, she managed to take a shower, she
managed to sleep. She dreamed of Janet holding her hands while she slept.
And she was able to get up and face Monday.

 Monday was hideous, of course. She had to report to Skinner. She had to
surrender her weapon, pending his review of her report. He asked her to
write a report for him and a report for the Office of Professional
Responsibility; she had to draft them and let him see the drafts first. His
growl was set on low; apparently, the assistant district attorney had called
him and given him the good word about the lack of charges. After that, she
thought, go home and finish cleaning up her apartment. She had to go to
Confession.

 But it wasn't as bad as she thought. For one thing, Mulder didn't shadow
her with his hangdog guilty expression, and he didn't go to the other
extreme and glower at her. He had his own report ready on the computer, and
after he got a phone call, left with it and did not come back to work. She
assumed, by the strained look on his face, that he went to have his own
private session with the Assistant Director. She got her reports done, and
sent them up to Skinner after lunch; then she made her mandatory appointment
with the counselor.

 When she finally got home, she decided that she and Mulder had done a
pretty good job at cleaning. The professional carpet service had removed all
traces of glass and blood from the carpet, and the Mulder had already
replaced the light fixture. So, she took a long hot shower (without thinking
about the cold bath Pfaster had in mind until later) and drank a glass of
wine, watching the Discovery Channel.

  She slept, and didn't dream.

 Tuesday morning brought other thoughts. How could Janet have helped her if
Janet loved Mulder? It must have really been nothing. Mulder acted upset
about it, but face it, Mulder was dysfunctional.  They couldn't have been
living together. Janet couldn't have any hard feelings. Scully would have to
force Mulder to tell how much Janet's regular fees were. It was worth it.
For just that one moment in Mulder's apartment, no one had ever made her
feel as safe. That must be part of her lawyer mojo-the whammy, she smiled to
herself.

 For a moment, she pitied Mulder for breaking it off with Janet.











--
"Some days it just doesn't pay to chew through the restraints."---Anonymous