From: msk1024@yahoo.com   
      
   Title: Buried Deep   
   Author: msk   
   Email:  msk1024@yahoo.com   
   Rating:  R   
   Keyword: M/S, M/Fowley, Angst   
   Spoilers:  Tithonius   
   Notes:  This is the third in a series of   
   stories, following "Inextricable" and    
   "Draw the Line."  Some readers may prefer    
   to wait until the entire series is posted.   
   All thanks are due to Kel--for support,   
   beta and everything else.   
      
   "I mean, obviously, you have buried this so    
   deeply, you can't consciously recall it."   
                   Melissa Scully, Blessing Way   
      
   "Say hi to the toddler for me," Mulder said as   
   he helped her out of the car.     
      
   "I'll be sure to do that," she said, stifling   
   a groan.     
      
   It was three weeks since Peyton Ritter's bullet    
   had slammed into her abdomen.  Hauling herself    
   out of a car was one of the most painful maneuvers    
   in her day, along with sneezing, coughing, laughing    
   and the tortures of physical therapy.    
      
   Her therapist was so young, she'd dubbed him "the   
   toddler," speculating that he was no older than   
   twelve, thirteen at the outside.  She swore his   
   voice was still changing.    
      
   "Don't let the kid push you around," Mulder said.     
   His hands were on her shoulders and he smiled down   
   into her face.  "Tell him your partner will kick    
   his ass."   
      
   "I don't know Mulder...he's pretty buff."   
      
   "I'm not worried," he said.  "Okay...maybe a    
   little."  His arm around her, they walked slowly    
   into the building.   
      
   She tried not to lean into his body.  She craved   
   his touch, maybe more than his support.  Deep down,    
   she knew it would be a mistake to grow used to either.   
      
   "Be strong," he said, with one final squeeze of    
   her shoulders.   "I'll be back in an hour."     
      
   She felt a little rush of warmth flood through her   
   as she watched him leave.  He'd been so caring, so    
   tender since she got out of the hospital.  It    
   reminded her of the days before and after her    
   cancer went into remission.     
      
   After the recent distance and strain between    
   them, Scully found herself wrapping this new closeness   
   around her like a comforting blanket.  She knew it   
   probably wouldn't last.  It would burn off like    
   morning mist as soon as she was strong and healthy   
   again, just as it had after her cancer was no longer   
   a threat to her life.   
      
   The problems that had driven them apart hadn't    
   suddenly disappeared.  Diana Fowley still hovered    
   in the background, biding her time and waiting for   
   another opportunity to come between them.   
      
   Only weeks before the disastrous New York assignment    
   with Ritter, Mulder had come by and told her of    
   Fowley's offer of the X-Files if Jeffrey Spender was    
   successful in his bid for a transfer.  Mulder had    
   insisted that Scully had to be part of the deal if    
   he was to return.  Diana had agreed, probably with   
   great reluctance.     
      
   Scully could still picture the look of surprise on    
   Mulder's face when she told him she wouldn't work    
   with Diana.     
      
   Her emotions had been in turmoil as she lay awake   
   that night.  Damn Diana.  If her intention had   
   been to destroy the partnership, she'd had a   
   win-win proposition.  Mulder either became Diana's   
   partner on the X-Files leaving Scully behind, or    
   he gave up the chance and resented Scully for    
   his sacrifice, effectively ruining whatever   
   was left of their relationship.   
      
   They hadn't spoken about the issue since that   
   night.  As time went on, his attitude seemed   
   to improve and while he couldn't be described   
   about gung ho about background checks, he worked   
   without complaint.   
      
   She didn't know if Mulder had declined Diana's   
   offer or if Spender had simply failed to get his   
   transfer.  Mulder hadn't said and Scully hadn't    
   asked.   
      
   With a sigh, Scully crossed the lobby separating   
   the rehabilitation center from a busy gym.   
   Scully and a lot of other agents took advantage    
   of the reduced government rates at the facility.     
   Scully nodded as she passed an agent she    
   recognized.   
      
   "Hey Dana," Kevin Biehl said as she entered   
   the therapy room.  "Ready to work?"   
      
   "As ready as ever," she answered.  Kevin was far   
   too enthusiastic to be allowed to live.  Scully   
   regretted the fact that she wasn't carrying her   
   weapon.   
      
   "All right, let's warm up on the stationary    
   bike."   
      
   After ten minutes on the bike, he put her through    
   a set of exercises designed to strengthen the    
   abdominal muscles around the wound site.  The    
   process was painful and each small movement    
   difficult.     
      
   No matter how much she hated the exercises,    
   Scully had to admit that she felt stronger.     
   Part of Kevin's job was to find solutions to    
   her mobility problems.  His suggestions had    
   made getting of bed a lot easier.    
      
   Through all of the exercises, Kevin remained   
   cheerful.  Scully was red-faced and exhausted    
   as she completed her last repetition.   
      
   "Good job, Dana," Kevin said.  "You'll be back   
   to chasing bad guys in no time."   
      
   "Let's hope they aren't running too fast," she   
   said, mopping the back of her neck with a towel.   
      
   "Time for some E-Stim, Dana.  Why don't you   
   get comfortable."   
      
   With a sigh, she stretched out on the treatment   
   bed and drew her t-shirt up to expose her wound   
   site.  Kevin pulled over the apparatus and gently   
   touched her stomach.   
      
   "You're always so tense for this," he said.     
   "Everyone says this is their favorite part of    
   therapy, because the machine does all the work."   
      
   Scully tried to calm her nerves, breathing deeply    
   as Kevin attached the electrode pads to her skin.     
   The electrical stimulation was designed to promote    
   healing of the damaged muscle tissue.  It didn't    
   hurt, but Scully found the process oddly disturbing.   
      
   She wiped her damp palms against the sides of her   
   yoga pants, trying in vain to relax.  Scully closed   
   her eyes, but only served to raise the level of    
   apprehension.  Her eyes flew open, and she checked    
   the clock by the door.  Only five  minutes gone,    
   damn it.     
      
   Sitting at his desk, Kevin jotted notes onto charts.   
   A hip hop song she wasn't familiar with played on    
   the radio.  Kevin sang along, his voice off key.   
   Scully tried to focus on him, on the song, but the   
   ragged beat of the music only served to further jar    
   her nerves. She clenched and unclenched her fists.   
      
   Her gaze drifted back to the clock and she watched   
   the second hand trudge around its face.  A flash   
   of movement caught her eye--a face at the small window    
   in the door.  A jolt ran through her that had nothing    
   to do with the E-Stim machine.     
      
   Diana Fowley looked through the window, wearing an   
   expression that might have been sympathy if Scully   
   could believe her capable of that emotion.     
      
   Scully gasped as the scene before her changed and   
   she was no longer in the therapy room but in a long    
   and narrow white room.  She looked down at her body,   
   now covered in surgical drapes.  Masked doctors    
   surrounded her, their cold eyes greedy to plumb the    
   secrets of her body.     
      
   Everything was familiar to her, a nightmare she'd    
   dreamed night after night, but this time there was    
   something different.  A new face looked on from    
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)