Title: Flight Delayed (2/4)
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
creating my own webpage: www.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.



Janet had a shitty Sunday afternoon. She sent an e-mailed invoice for her
fee to Mulder, to relieve her feelings. She sent an invitation to
Darla-the-ADA for lunch sometime. Then she went to bed and decided to sleep,
until Monday morning.

She had been doing that a lot, ever since she and Fox Mulder had broken up.
FoxMulder, all one name. Him. He had just gotten to tolerate being called
Fox, too-and didn't care at all if she called him Fox in bed. Fox. She had
bought Dr. Seuss' Fox in Socks  for his Christmas present, and it was still
in its sack under her bed. She hadn't seen him since early December.

Get a cat, she thought gloomily. Cat in the Hat.

Mulder had called her early Sunday morning, his voice strained. I know you
should hang up on me, he had started, but I need you to help Scully. She
said, derisively, "Hah! Help her?"

"Yes."

At her continued silence, he had actually said, "You know I wouldn't ask you
if I was with her."

"With, in the sexual sense?" Janet had replied, furious at herself for
asking.

"I'm not," he said. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"I know," Janet said, her voice cracking. On the other end of the line,
Mulder let out a breath that was close to a sob, before telling her the
details. So, for the chance to see him, the chance to prove what a wonderful
person she was, she agreed.

That's what she hated herself for: setting herself up for sainthood. All to
have him at her door, at her mercy. His mouth on her hand, his mouth on
hers. If he had asked, she would have done him in the elevator.

The case itself was a piece of cake. Indict a cop? A former victim? A tiny
woman like Dana Scully? As for Scully herself, she was like every
defendant-she didn't think she would ever be talking to a criminal defense
lawyer.  She was law enforcement, not a defendant. The change in identity
rattled the strongest people. Janet was so relieved that Scully wasn't
acting like the new MulderWoman, she could hardly stand up. And there she
was, literally holding Scully's hand-but Scully didn't have Mulder, either.
Too bad Mulder didn't see the hand thing-he would have been mumbling about
threesomes.

Janet didn't have him, but she had two ties, a suit in its dry cleaning bag,
three casefiles, half a carton of Coronas, the DVD player he had brought
over and plugged into her television,  a souvenir snow globe from the
Chicago airport, and a pillow that still smelled of him. His hair stuff and
a razor in the bathroom-well, she had bundled up all the loose items in a
Borders shopping bag and put them in her hall closet for return. Sometime.

Monday morning, she had one tasteful bouquet of flowers from Scully, one
odd-looking plant from Frohike (did they ever stop monitoring police band
radio?) and a messengered cashier's check from Mulder.

If he doesn't think I'll cash it, he's nuts, she thought, tapping the
envelope on her open palm. Cash it and blow it all. Diamond earrings,
day-spas.

She turned it over to sign, and saw a Post-It Note.

I love you.

And that's when she left work and took the Metro to the J. Edgar Hoover
building.





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