TITLE: Flying under the Radar (Part 2 of 7)
AUTHOR: Tesla
RATING:   NC-17
See part one for Disclaimers

"It was funny how we met"

If she had known she was going to be mugged, Janet wouldn't have worn her
best suit. Of course, she had been to federal court in the District, and she
had thought that meeting the new judge was going to be the vital part of the
day. Which only showed that her Filofax was lacking an important listing:
personal encounters with criminal defendants, as opposed to professional
encounters.


She pulled up in front of her building, managing to park under the
streetlight. It was already late, and misting. She tried to pop the trunk
latch, and belatedly remembered that one of the other lawyers had advised
that deactivating the interior trunk latch would keep her from losing
everything in an auto B & E.  Janet fished her keys out of her purse, and
went to get her box of files.

The man grabbed her arm and purse strap. She let him have the purse, but he
kept pulling on her.  He wanted to---he threw a punch at her, and she
dodged; he kicked her shins, and she felt her feet sliding out from under
her.  Her hands slapped hard at him as she regained her balance. Fear, or
adrenaline was driving her breath out of her throat in sobs, and she
clutched at the trunk lid, slipping as it swung shut. She snatched at the
keys, and they came away in her hand. There was no time to get them in her
hand as a weapon, as the man smacked her hard across the face, still trying
to grab her.

"Get in the car, bitch," the man panted.  She threw the keys as far away as
she could, and when he turned his head to see, drove her knee into his
groin. He grunted, letting her go; but her momentum had caused her to fall
on her knees. For a frozen moment she was still scrambling to get away, and
he was still grabbing at her-

"Freeze, asshole." Followed by the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked.
Asshole froze, and she froze. "You. Down. On your belly. Spread 'em. Wider!
Let me see your hands on your head. Good. Now hold the right one-


She sat up in the road to see a plainclothes cop, with one large dress shoe
in the middle of the mugger's back, closing his cuffs. He pulled his suit
coat down over his now holstered pistol, and turned to her.  "Hey," he said,
crouching beside her. "How you doin'?"

She swallowed. "I never thought I'd want to kiss a cop." She dimly
recognized him-- the runner from next door?

He grinned. "Well, you're still good-I'm only FBI. Can you stand up?" He put
one hand under her forearm. She gripped his sleeve, and re-discovered her
legs. He held onto her arm, while pulling a cell phone out of his pocket
with the other hand. "We'll just call APD, and get them to come get this
guy. You'll probably have to go sign some papers at the station-probably
take a couple of hours." He punched in-she assumed-911. "This is special
agent Fox Mulder. I'm outside Hegel Place Apartments. In the street-I've got
a mugger cuffed and ready for you. Thanks. No, we don't need the
 paramedics?" He raised his eyebrows at her. She shook her head. "No.
Thanks." He closed the phone. "Hey, that's not nice." This last to the
mugger, who was cursing them both.

An awful suspicion occurred to her. She staggered on unsteady feet to the
mugger and took a good look at him. "Freaky C, " she said, feeling her face
flush. This time, the emotional jolt was rage.

The mugger slowly turned his head. "Oh shi-iit. Miz Durrell."

The fed stepped up, grinning. "Well, that's interesting. You two know each
other?"

"I represented him in juvenile court."

Mulder started laughing. "This'll get you on America's dumbest criminals,
pal. Mugging your own lawyer!"

"No, really, Miz Durrell, I swear I didn't know you! I swear!"

"I should kick you until you're dead. And you know what? Big Cornelius is in
the City Jail right now. I just left him an hour ago. I'm going to make sure
he knows you jumped me!" In an aside to the agent, she said
conversationally, "Big Cornelius is about seven feet tall. He likes me."
Back to Freaky C, "How about that? Cornelius won't like it if his case gets
put off because you hurt me."

"Miz Durrell, I just wanted to jack you car! You know I don't jump women!"

"Yeah, tell it to your new lawyer. Who'll have to come from another office,
'cause none of the City or County defenders can take you. And you know what?
You looked like you resisted arrest. This is a fed. That makes it a federal
charge." Oh, she really could kick him. Her foot twitched at the thought.

Mulder looked even more amused. "You know, I can go back to my car if you
want to have a private talk. Explain his rights."

"What I want," she said abruptly, "is tequila. Several shots of tequila."
She remembered something. "And my car keys."

Mulder swiveled scanning the pavement. "I think I saw-let me go get my
flashlight out of the car." But the headlights of the approaching police car
forestalled him.

To her dismal non-surprise, she knew the cops, and they, of course, knew
Freaky C. But what did surprise her, was that they knew Agent Mulder. He
held his hands up in mock innocence as Officer Archer glared at him. "Hey, I
was just going home. I don't know them. But could I get my cuffs back?"

Archer transferred his glare to Janet. "Janet, don't we give you enough
business without you drumming it up? And stay away from this fed, here.
There've been more dead bodies in his building than even I can remember."

The other cop was exchanging cuffs. "Hey, Sarge, this here's Freaky C.
Freaky, didn't you just make bond?"

Janet leaned against the side of her car, watching Mulder walking around
with his flashlight pointed to the street. Not only good looking, but
helpful. She transferred her gaze to the policeman. "Can I come down in the
morning, Sarge? I really can't focus. Freaky claims he didn't know it was
me, but he jumped me and tried to pull me into the car. I can make a better
statement in the morning."

"Some defense lawyer, " Mulder said, coming up to her, with her keys and
purse dangling from his hand. "She wants me to say he resisted arrest and
pop him with a felony. Here's your keys, and your purse."

She took them. "He's got a felony," she said grimly. "These guys'll tell you
I ain't that liberal."

 Archer grinned. "Okay, both of you. Come down after two-thirty, tomorrow. I
'll take your statements then. See? I'm a nice guy. It's Friday. Go get a
drink."

They watched the cops bundle Freaky into the car and drive away.

"So you were saying about tequila?" he asked blandly.

"Sure. And I always buy for men who save my life."  She rubbed her face, and
looked down at her knees. "What a tribute to Leggs Sheer Energy. No runs,"
she murmured. She looked up at his laughing face.
"In the movies, you know, we would be at the bar, licking each other's necks
instead of salt. But in reality, we're damp, and in my case," she added
savagely, brushing at her formerly best suit, " covered with motor oil,
 and."

"Wearing our office clothes.  And wondering where to go get drunk, and who
would drive. And what were you saying about necks?"

She flexed her stiff fingers and rotated her head. "I wish I could be coy.
Just once in my life. But the truth is, escaping death makes me horny. If I
didn't want a drink so badly, I could do you in the car right now."

"Please don't be joking," he said, staring.

"I've been admiring your ass for years." She pointed to her apartment
building. "I live next door. I see you out running all the time." She looked
up. "Special Agent Mulder, it's starting to rain. What do you want to do?"

He pulled his keys out of his pocket. "I'll drive. I don't mind a little
motor oil. Are you the type of woman who gets affectionate when she drinks?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hell, yes. Which is why I usually drink alone."


And that's how Janet started sleeping with an FBI agent.