From: xf_emily_sim@yahoo.ca   
      
   Title: S.N.A.F.U. Part 2 Chapters 7-10   
   Author: Emily Sim   
   Headers: see part 1   
      
   **************   
      
   Chapter 7   
      
      
   Scully pushed the drawer back in and removed her   
   gloves. "You did   
   a good job, Denise."   
      
   "I sure appreciated getting the chance to work with   
   you; everyone   
   wanted to."   
      
   Scully couldn't help but feel a little flattered. It   
   wasn't often   
   that she was the recipient of any kind of Bureau idol   
   worship;   
   that was usually focused on Mulder. "You'll do well.   
   You have a   
   keen mind-"   
      
   "- and a strong stomach," Denise finished.   
      
   Both women laughed and made their way to the back room   
   to shower   
   and change. Denise had been good, and Scully realized   
   some of the   
   tension in her shoulders was gone. It had been nice to   
   work with   
   someone who had a similar style. There weren't a lot   
   of   
   unnecessary words, no jockeying for a position of   
   power; in   
   short, none of the posturing that usually accompanied   
   most of the   
   men she had shared an autopsy bay with. Even some of   
   the male   
   students tended to try and pull some sort of dominance   
   shit. It   
   was why she usually worked alone, or with Mulder as a   
   distant   
   bystander. Despite all the forward movement made in   
   many sectors,   
   the FBI was still a boy's playground.   
      
   She stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water   
   to wash   
   away the chemicals, the smell that permeated the bay.   
   She   
   couldn't wait to get home, soak in scented water   
   instead of the   
   harsh soap she had to use here, and get into her nice   
   soft   
   pajamas, open the wine and - what an exciting life you   
   do lead   
   Agent Dana Scully, MD. The sick part was, she would be   
   here   
   tomorrow, same place, same time, different body. Maybe   
   she should   
   have considered something other than working with the   
   dead. It   
   was all she seemed to be surrounded with these days:   
   dead bodies,   
   dead daughter, dead relationship, dead life. She   
   scrubbed her   
   hair, trying to banish her maudlin thoughts. She   
   needed to see   
   some light, get out of the dark for a little bit.   
      
   Maybe holing up in her apartment was not such a wise   
   idea   
   considering her current state of mind. She needed to   
   laugh. If   
   she were closer to Denise's age, and not her   
   supervisor, she   
   would be dragging her out for a drink, or just to   
   chat, to   
   debrief a bit. Whatever happened to that person, she   
   wondered?   
      
   As the water rinsed the soap away, it left some   
   lingering   
   bitterness. She missed Melissa, and sometimes she   
   missed the life   
   she might have had so much that she resented Mulder   
   and the X-   
   Files and where they had brought her. Forgiveness was   
   hard, and   
   she knew it was often a daily thing, even when it   
   concerned   
   something she had already let go of. In her weaker   
   moments she'd   
   find she needed to let go all over again. There were   
   times she   
   even hated Mulder and she berated herself for feeling   
   like that,   
   because she really did love him more than she hated   
   him. Most of   
   the time. She believed she did get the tattoo she   
   deserved, and   
   sometimes she would hold up Philadelphia as an   
   invisible badge of   
   honour that only she was aware of. Mulder couldn't see   
   it, but it   
   was pinned to the front of her suit jacket all through   
   the El   
   Rico debacle. It was there when she pulled her badge   
   out, when   
   she signed her name to the report. It made an   
   appearance when he   
   ridiculed her in front of the Gunmen and made her feel   
   foolish   
   for thinking he cared.   
      
   Sometimes she wished he could see it, understand what   
   it meant,   
   and it would make her feel sick that she could want to   
   hurt him,   
   almost as sick as the remembrance of Ed Jerse's cock   
   pushing in   
   and out of her mouth. It had been a heady feeling at   
   the time,   
   being in control, powerful, holding him off until he   
   was begging   
   her for release. Yet it was all so empty, and she went   
   to sleep   
   with an ache so deep that it spread to fill every part   
   of her. It   
   was about her and about Mulder and so many other   
   things. One day   
   there would be no more room inside and her feelings   
   would all   
   come spilling out.   
      
   She finished up and bade goodbye to Denise, who was   
   already on   
   the phone arranging to meet friends. When Denise   
   glanced her way,   
   a question in her eyes, there was a brief moment when   
   Scully   
   considered giving in and suggesting she join them. The   
   thought   
   was quickly gone as her professionalism took over.   
   Dana Scully   
   didn't break the rules, at least not for causal   
   acquaintances.   
   She left that for the times her partner needed her so   
   desperately   
   it was the only way to help him. The door closed with   
   a soft thud   
   behind her. She wasn't sure who she was at any one   
   time anymore.   
      
   ****************   
      
   Chapter 8   
      
      
      
   "Forty-five minutes tops, boys."   
      
   "Well good afternoon to you too, Mulder." Frohike   
   moved aside and   
   allowed the two men to enter. "Mr. Skinner, come in   
   and take a   
   load off."   
      
   Byers and Langly nodded from their respective perches.   
      
      
   "This isn't a social call, boys, and you'll have to   
   forgive me   
   for once again debasing myself in your eyes. I'm   
   desperate for   
   help and," -- he choked back sudden tears -- "there   
   isn't anyone   
   else I can call." His confident tone ended in a quiet   
   plea.   
   "Please."   
      
   "You look like shit." Mulder knew Frohike hated to be   
   seen as   
   soft, but also knew he had a good heart.   
      
   "You do look like shit."   
      
   "Fuck you too, Langly," said Mulder as he slapped his   
   friend on   
   the back.   
      
   Byers left his stool to shake hands with Skinner.   
   "Excuse their   
   lack of manners. Why don't you let us know what you   
   need."   
      
   Mulder plunked the file down on the only clear surface   
   he could   
   see. "Skinner had a visitor today, as did I. His was   
   of the   
   smoking variety, mine was," -- he stumbled over the   
   words --   
   "mine was a different kind of smoking gun."   
      
   Frohike's eyebrows rose a notch and Langly's attention   
   was   
   diverted from whatever he was watching on his computer   
   screen.   
   "You care to elaborate?"   
      
   "Later. Right now we need to know if any of these four   
   have been   
   active lately?" He pulled two of the pictures out and   
   handed the   
   photos and a piece of paper to Byers. "Look for   
   employment at   
   blood clinics, labs, any place like that. They moved   
   quite a bit   
   when they were active before, so look for places where   
   there was   
   high turnover, employees who left only to show up at a   
   similar   
   occupation right after. I don't know if they'll be   
   using the same   
   names or not."   
      
   Byers held one of the pictures closer. "Does this have   
   anything   
   to do with Agent Scully?"   
      
   Skinner broke in. "It was something that occurred   
   during her   
   abduction, and my visitor this afternoon seemed to   
   indicate a   
   connection to his organization, or perhaps himself.   
   We're not   
   sure what we're looking for, but I think," -- he   
   gestured to   
   Mulder -- "he'll know it when he sees it."   
      
   "Forty-five minutes? It's going to take longer than   
   that."   
   Frohike sat down and cracked his fingers, readying   
   himself for a   
   stint at the keyboard.   
      
   "Just do whatever you need to. I can," -- Mulder   
   searched for the   
   proper word -- "contain it for the time being. I may   
   have more   
   information after I meet with someone tonight."   
      
   "Just leave it with us." Byers walked them to the   
   door. "You can   
   still visit us, Mulder. Only Frohike's still mad   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)