'Showdown', Part 16: the saga sort of
continues"
by Robin
As she walked the halls of the J Edgar Hoover Building, Scully felt the stares. Oh yes, they were staring at her, waiting for her to crack, to break down, to show some sorrow at the disappearance of her partner. Carefully, deliberately, she made her neutral way down to the office basement they used to share and let herself in. The door clicking behind her was a benediction. Scully grinned and sashayed her way to the desk.
"Mine, mine *all* mine," she
whispered gleefully. Hiking up her skirt, she rolled the Extra-Hold
panty hose down to her ankles freeing her waist, which sprang
from its normal 20 inches to a now-pregnant 42 inches. She sank
in the leather chair with a grateful sigh and swung her feet,
still encased in shoes and hose onto the desktop and leaned back,
scratching her abdomen like a lazy cat after a flea. With practiced
ease she slid open the bottom drawer where she kept a healthy
supply of chocolate covered cherries. (She'd moved what's-his-name's
crap into boxes and out into the hall a week after he went missing.)
Ripping open a fresh box, she slid two of the bon-bons into her
mouth. Life was good.
Ever since Whozits disappeared, she had peace and quiet. She had
Skinner at her beck and call -- very handy for those tiresome
days when her snack drawer needed refilling -- and everyone else
extended her all the courtesies due to a rich widow. She finally
had time to ponder the big questions.
"Hmmm," she wondered. Just how many chocolate-covered
cherries *could* she fit in her mouth anyway? The scientist in
her needed to know. She was in the process of finding room for
cherry number five when she was interrupted by the sound of the
elevator. She stilled, listening intently. Probably just someone
going to the supply closet for toner. She sucked a sweet dribble
from her chin back into her mouth.
Footsteps. Footsteps coming toward the office door. Scully lowered
her feet to the floor and watched the door suspiciously. A quick
double knock, the door swung open and a man stepped in. Scully
snapped to her feet, brow furrowed, cheeks distended like a chipmunks.
"Ooo uh ehh ah ooo?" Scully roared. Ok-- it was a muffled
roar.
"Excuse me?" the man said, totally flummoxed. Scully
shuffled forward and grabbed at the ID badge on his lapel, studying
it intently.
"Ayuh Ohh Ohhet?" She read aloud, swiping a chocolate
smear on her chin. Agent John Doggett was confused and becoming
a little frightened.
"Um. I'm looking for Agent Scully?" He offered, standing
absolutely still and speaking softly, as the Marine Corp emergency
manual recommends when facing a potentially deranged opponent
of unknown skill level.
She glanced up at his face and followed his gaze to the pantyhose
puddled around her feet. Looking back up at him, Scully slowly
chewed the mass of confection to a manageable size.
"Mmm. Wew oo, um, ehoose ee hor a mihit?" She said before
mustering up her dignity and mincing to the john. Once inside
she spat out the candy, yanked up her pantyhose, tucking junior
back into the cage, washed her face and smoothed her hair. She
filled a paper cup at the water cooler, tossed it back and refilled
it for the road. When she returned to the office, Doggett was
as she had left him, standing quietly at attention.
"What can I do for you, Agent Doggett?" Scully asked.
Dogget looked her over carefully.
"Are you really Agent Scully?" Doggett asked.
"I am."
"In that case, I'm here to help you find your missing partner."
"What!?" Scully wheeled on him, her blue-eyed gaze bounding
off of his.
"AD Kersh sent me" before he could finish, Scully dashed
the contents of of her paper cup in his face.
"You manipulative *bastard*!" Scully snapped. Doggett
dripped as he thought about that.
"Agent, did I offend you in some way?"
"You're not here to help me findfind." she waved her
hand in the air.
"Agent Mulder?" Doggett offered.
"Right! Mulder! You're just here to condemn him and discredit
his work!"
"You're wrong, Agent Scully. I want what you want. I want
to find the truth." Doggett dripped sincerely. "That's
why they assigned me to work with you on the X-Files."
"You?! Work on the X-Files? But they belong to to"
"Mulder?"
"Exactly!"
" I am a trained agent, Agent."
"That may be but you're nono"
"Mulder?"
"Precisely!"
"Agent Scully, I'm just an ex-marine-former- cop-turned FBI
agent trying to make it to retirement with a minimum of ass-kissing.
Now, we've been thrown together and I can see you have a problem
with that. What do you say we call a truce and try to find a way
to make this work?"
Scully considered his words, considered the attractive way water
dripped off his craggy face, considered how handy it might be
to have an errand boy in the office.
"Well. OK. But the desk is *mine*, understand? And there's
no room for another one, so you'll just have to put your purse
in the filing cabinet!"
"Purse?" Doggett looked around himself, confused. Scully
realized that Agent John Doggett was not even remotely a "pursey"
kind of guy. What a rotten time to have a bun in the oven.
"Well, what ever personal items you might have," Scully
amended with a tiny smile. Doggett responded with a smile of his
own.
"Great. Ok, then. Where do we start looking for Mulder?"
he asked, rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation of
the hunt.
"Who?"
To be continued