From: susanf34@comcast.net   
      
   *NO ARCHIVE*   
      
      
      
   Title: Ramblings of a Rude Woman   
   Author: Susan   
   E-mail: susanf34@comcast.net   
   Classification: vignette   
   Rating: G   
   Spoiler: Fire   
   Archive: After the Fact site.   
   Disclaimer: This character isn't mine, and quite   
   honestly, I'm glad about that.   
      
   Author's notes: I've been feeling rather nostalgic   
   about the show lately so I thought I'd take a look   
   back at season one and do some exploring around   
   inside Phoebe Green's head for a while.  I must   
   admit I was pleasantly surprised by what I found   
   there at first, but then I started digging deeper,   
   and I found myself getting ticked off all over   
   again. Mulder was right about her. She really was   
   a 'mind game player extraordinaire'.   
      
   More author's ramblings at the end.:)   
      
   Summary: Inspector Phoebe Green shares her thoughts   
   about being in the States and spending time with   
   Mulder.   
   ***********************************************************   
      
   Ramblings of a Rude Woman   
   by Susan   
   ~~~~   
      
   I was sharing a rather spicy afternoon romp with   
   Malcolm when I got the call.   
      
   Now here I am, four hours later, on a plane to the   
   States to investigate some bloke that likes to play   
   with fire.   
      
   I suppose I shouldn't complain, especially since   
   I know I'll be seeing Fox while I'm there, and yet   
   a part of me is dreading it.   
      
   I wonder what he'll do when he sees me.   
      
   Will the sparks fly the moment our eyes meet, or   
   will he look at me with disdain?   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   His partner hates me.   
      
   I've only just met her, but I can tell by the way   
   she's looking at me that she's not too happy about   
   me being here.   
      
   I can also tell that she likes him.   
      
   Does he know that she sees him as more than just   
   her partner, or is he still so wrapped up in his   
   work that he doesn't have a clue?   
      
   Standing next to him again, feeling his body so   
   close to mine, I think I already know the answer.   
      
   Still, I can't help wondering...   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   We're in his office now, and all I can think about   
   is how cluttered it is.   
      
   Well, that, and how absolutely splendid it is to   
   watch him work again.   
      
   I've missed this.   
      
   Sharing information, bouncing ideas off each other,   
   discussing all the ways to solve this case.   
      
   It's a pity *she's* here though, or otherwise it'd   
   be perfect.   
      
   Perhaps I can get him alone later.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   We just finished talking with a Miss Kotchek at the   
   hospital.   
      
   Apparently she saw our suspect light his finger on   
   fire, then proceed to turn a local pub into nothing   
   but ashes. I found the whole story quite fascinating,   
   but what was even more intriguing was the way that   
   Mulder talked to her.   
      
   She didn't want to cooperate with the police and   
   help them come up with a sketch of the suspect, but   
   then he talked her into it by simply disregarding   
   her indiscretion and focusing only on what she felt   
   comfortable with.   
      
   It was really quite impressive.   
      
   That is, until afterwards when he brought up the   
   subject of *our* past indiscretions.   
      
   The way he looked at me, the resentment I saw in   
   his eyes, the coldness in his voice...   
      
   It hurt me more than I care to admit.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   A few hours later we're in Cape Cod.   
      
   We're walking down the street in the rain, carrying   
   umbrellas and talking about the case. It's wet and   
   it's dreary, but the town is rather quaint, and   
   the stinging comments he made to me earlier are   
   long forgotten.   
      
   It's nice being with him like this, and for the   
   first time since I arrived, I feel like he's   
   actually glad that I'm here.   
      
   There will be a party at the Venerable Plaza in   
   Boston tonight, given in honor of the Marsdens,   
   and there's a very good chance that our arsonist,   
   if he's still alive, will be making an appearance   
   there.   
      
   I've booked a room for myself in hopes that I can   
   be there to finally catch the dirty bugger if he   
   does, but when I tell Mulder that I've booked him   
   a room as well, I can't help noticing the pensive,   
   yet somewhat panicked look on his face.   
      
   What does it mean?   
      
   Is he concerned about the possibility of something   
   going wrong with the case, or is he thinking about   
   what might happen between us?   
      
   I suspect the latter.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   The last time I saw him in a tuxedo was the night   
   we made love atop Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's tombstone   
   on a cold and misty night in Windlesham.   
      
   He took my breath away that night, several times, in   
   fact, and now he's taken it away again.   
      
   He looks absolutely smashing in his black tie and   
   tux, and though I know I really should stay with   
   the Marsdens right now, I can't resist.   
      
   I ask him if he'd care to indulge in a dance.   
      
   He accepts.   
      
   Having him hold me in his arms again feels wonderful,   
   and before I can stop myself I tell him more than I   
   should.   
      
   "I've thought about you often."   
      
   He blushes at my admission and pulls me closer,   
   and then we're kissing.   
      
   We're kissing and we're dancing, and it feels   
   like old times again.   
      
   That is, until *she* shows up.   
      
   The moment he hears her voice, he can't break   
   away from me quickly enough, but not being one   
   to back down so easily, I still keep my hands on   
   him, one on his chest, the other on his shoulder.   
      
   And I make sure she sees it.   
      
   She does, and I'm rewarded with a subtle, but   
   potent glare.   
      
   Not surprisingly, Mulder is too busy rushing off   
   to save the day and is oblivious to the entire   
   exchange.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   Our arsonist struck again, this time starting a   
   fire in the hotel which trapped the Marsden boys   
   up in their room.   
      
   Thankfully, the driver pulled them to safety while   
   Mulder's still nowhere to be found.   
      
   God knows where he is. He's probably discussing   
   something with that partner of his.   
      
   What was her name again?   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   When I find out that he's in his room, I go to   
   talk with him, and just as I suspected, *she's*   
   there.   
      
   I also can't help but notice how comfortable he   
   is walking around the room in front of her wearing   
   only boxers and a robe, but the moment I walk in   
   he can't cover himself up fast enough.   
      
   Is it actually possible that they're more than   
   just partners?   
      
   Maybe, but I doubt it.   
      
   Not more than an hour ago, he kissed *me*, and   
   it bloody well wasn't the kiss of someone who's   
   involved with another woman.   
      
   Still, the way they act around each other has me   
   curious.   
      
   Just what is it he sees in her anyway?   
      
   After listening to her spout off some inane theory   
   about how the Marsdens' driver might be the one   
   responsible for the hotel fire, I politely excuse   
   myself and pack my things in preparation of going   
   back to the Cape.   
      
   Maybe if I get back there soon enough, Malcolm   
   and I will be able to steal some time away together   
   before we have to head back to England.   
      
   ~~~~   
      
   It's quite exquisite, really.   
      
   The way Malcolm slides his hand over my hip and   
   slips his tongue into my mouth, but what makes it   
   even more delicious is that it's on the stairs of   
   his house with his wife right outside.   
      
   I wonder if she knows about us.   
      
   I doubt it, considering how much time she spends   
   with those boys.   
      
   And I doubt Fox knows about us either, especially   
   after what happened between us last night.   
      
   He's a handsome and brilliant man, but naive in so   
   many ways, and yet that's what first attracted me   
   to him.   
      
   Well, that, and the way he makes love. I mean,   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)