From: msk1024@yahoo.com   
      
   Title:  Draw the Line    
   Author: msk   
   Email:  msk1024@yahoo.com   
   Rating:  R   
   Keyword: M/S, M/Fowley, Angst   
   Spoilers:  Terms of Endearment   
   Notes:  This is the second in a series of    
   stories, following "Inextricable."  Some    
   readers may prefer to wait until the    
   entire series is posted.  Huge thanks to Kel for   
   beta and support.     
      
      
   "You'll pursue a case at the expense of everything,    
   to the point of insanity, and expect me to follow    
   you. There has to be somewhere to draw the line"   
                               Dana Scully, Colony    
       
      
   She wasn't drunk.  While she couldn't be described    
   as perfectly sober, Scully was not drunk.   
      
   She took another sip of wine, golden warmth drifting    
   through her body.  She pictured it radiating from her    
   stomach, streaming down to her toes and out to her    
   fingertips.  No, she wasn't drunk and she didn't intend    
   to become so.  She was on her second glass of Bordeaux    
   and had reached the point where her life blurred enough    
   to be tolerable.     
      
   Damn, it was hard to stay right there.     
      
   Two weeks ago, she'd seen Mulder and Diana Fowley in    
   the Hoover's parking garage.  In that one moment, the   
   bond that she'd believed inviolate had unraveled,    
   leaving her adrift.  More and more often, she'd    
   found herself decompressing with a couple of glasses    
   of wine at the end of the day.  She'd been very strict   
   with herself--two glasses and no more.  Just enough   
   to be able to fall asleep.   
      
   Scully raised the glass, gently swirling the ruby liquid.     
   She'd been in a kind of holding pattern, trying to decide    
   what to do.  With Mulder giving their assignment barely    
   a token effort, the bulk of the work fell to Scully,    
   and she was rapidly burning out.  She'd begun to scan    
   the postings of open government positions for anything   
   that might spark her interest.   
      
   To her surprise, Mulder had actually pulled her into an    
   X-File that he'd uncovered, something that Agent Spender    
   had trash-canned.  Mulder hadn't said why Diana    
   Fowley wasn't at his side as he investigated Wayne    
   Weinsider.  More than likely, Diana wasn't interested   
   in anything that wouldn't advance her position.  Mulder's   
   tendency to get into trouble with higher-ups could be   
   a real career killer, as Scully knew far too well.   
      
   At any rate, he'd finally remembered he had a partner.   
      
   Scully still wondered why she'd allowed herself to be    
   drawn into the case.   Had she missed the thrill of    
   breaking the rules?  Or was it her own curiosity    
   about the unknown?  Maybe she hoped to recapture    
   the closeness she and Mulder had once shared.   
       
   Unfortunately, that closeness eluded her and all   
   she had been left with was a feeling of unutterable   
   sadness as she knelt in a makeshift graveyard    
   brushing dirt from tiny bones.     
      
   The memory of that was almost too much to bear, and   
   Scully poured herself another glass of wine.  She   
   took a sip and rested her head against the back of   
   the sofa.   Hell, she'd made it through the entire week.    
   Surely that merited another drink.   
      
   The knocking jolted her out of the wine's haze.  She   
   had to squint to see the digits on her clock.  8:30.   
   Who'd be knocking on her door at 8:30 on a Friday night,    
   and very insistently, too.   
      
   "Scully!  Hey, Scully, are you in there?"   
      
   She stumbled to the door, straightened her clothes   
   and tucked her hair behind her ears.  She toyed with    
   the idea of not answering, but Mulder would probably    
   let himself in if she didn't respond.   
      
   "What are you doing here, Mulder?" she asked as she   
   held the door open.  As he shouldered past her, she   
   caught a hint of his aftershave.     
      
   "I was in the mood for pizza," he said, gracing her with   
   his most engaging smile.  He held a deliciously fragrant    
   box in front of him like a peace offering.  "I thought    
   you might be hungry."   
      
   "Diana let you off the leash?" she asked, instantly   
   regretting the wine that seemed to have switched off   
   her internal censor.     
      
   She watched a momentary flash of surprise cross   
   Mulder's face before his poker face slammed closed    
   like a gate.     
      
   "Sorry," she offered, heading for the kitchen and    
   hoping with all her might that she didn't appear   
   unsteady.  She grabbed a couple of plates and some   
   napkins.  "Do you want a beer?"   
      
   "Sure," he called out.  She grabbed one by its long   
   neck and a water for herself.  She needed to keep her   
   wits about her.  The wine felt like it was still    
   drifting through her system, unlocking doors, opening    
   windows.   
      
   He'd removed his leather jacket and made himself    
   comfortable on her sofa.  He sat on the end, probably   
   hoping she'd drop down next to him, but Scully wasn't   
   sure she could handle that much proximity.     
      
   She handed Mulder his beer and curled up on the easy    
   chair opposite him, opened her water.  Taking a long    
   drink, she was surprised at how thirsty she was.  She    
   opened the box and deposited a couple of slices on    
   each plate.  She wasn't very hungry but perhaps the    
   pizza would counteract the alcohol in her system.   
      
   His eyes were on her every time she looked up from    
   her pizza.  His undivided scrutiny wasn't something she   
   was used to when they were on the best of terms.  Now,   
   it downright unnerved her.   
      
   "So, really, Mulder, what brought you here?"      
      
   "I didn't think I needed a reason," he answered, softly.     
   "I guess I missed you."   
      
   "You missed me?" she asked, bitter laughter threatening   
   to spill out of her.  "You make it sound like I've been    
   gone, Mulder.  I was right in the office, every day.     
   If you missed me, maybe you weren't looking for me very    
   hard."   
      
   Scully dabbed her napkin to her lips, her eyes cast    
   down to the plate on her lap.  One slice of pizza remained    
   on the plate, naked without the cheese she'd picked off.   
      
   He sighed and caught her glance.  She wasn't making this   
   easy for him.   
      
   "I did have an ulterior motive for coming here.  I have    
   some pretty great news."   
      
   "Okay, Mulder.  Spill it."   
      
   "Diana says that Jeffrey Spender wants off the X-Files.    
   He's got an opportunity in Intelligence.  Might be a   
   fast track position to the fifth floor."   
      
   "As 'pretty great' as that is, Mulder, why would I care   
   about Spender's ambitions."  Scully set her plate down on    
   the coffee table, folding her napkin on top.  "Oh wait,   
   I get it.  That leaves an opening in the X-Files and    
   Diana's promised it to you."   
      
   "To us.  She's going to try to get both of us reinstated,    
   Scully."   
      
   "Both of us?" Scully asked, cocking her head to the side.     
   "And this was her idea?"   
      
   Mulder looked away.  "Not initially, no.  But I told   
   her how important you are to the X-Files and she agreed   
   that we need your rationality and independent data.     
   I told her how much I need you."   
      
   The laughter she'd suppressed a moment ago escaped and   
   she leaned back against the sofa, giggling.  "God,     
   I hope you didn't sacrifice your virtue on my behalf."   
      
   "What are you talking about?"   
      
   "Never mind," she said, catching her breath as the    
   laughter subsided.           
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)