Motives by abracadabra, 4/4. Headers in Part 1/4

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Home of Dana Katherine Scully
Saturday, 1 October 1998
8:00AM

She pulled the blankets up just a bit farther, enjoying the cool
breeze that heralded in the month. She'd planned to get up
earlier and go into the office to catch up on paperwork.

So much for the best-laid plans. Bed just felt too damn good
right now. Besides, her sleep-filled mind added, if she stayed
here, she didn't have to face that fact that her partner was
gone to parts unknown for reasons equally unknown. At least to
her.

She rolled onto her side, drawing her knees up toward her body,
tucking herself into a close approximation of a fetal pose. How
Freudian, Doctor Scully. She knew she was withdrawing, hiding.
She preferred to think of it as cocooning, taking comfort from
her home. Yeah. Right.

Wallowing in her hurt and anger wasn't her usual style. But then
again, a series of partnerly transgressions of this magnitude
wasn't his style either. Wherever the Fowley woman was involved,
trouble washed over all who were caught in her wake. Scully was
sure Diana wanted it that way. And she was very used to getting
what she wanted. Who she wanted.

Allowing only one eye to take a cautious glance at the sky
outside her window. A hint of wan sunlight filtered through the
semi-closed slats of her blinds, as they refracted and disbursed
the pale light over her comforter. She had an idea. Close that
eye. If she didn't see the day, she didn't have to participate
in it. Classic avoidance behavior. Mulder would have a field
day with her on that one.

Mulder.

As if she'd invoked his spirit, her bedside phone rang,
startling her.

"Damnit!" She snaked one hand out from under the blankets and
pawed at the handset. "Hello?"

She almost hung up, but she heard a slight inhalation. A sharp
intake of breath indicating surprise?

<Scully?>

She knew it had to be him. He was intruding. On her sleep. On
her weekend. On her life.

"Go away, Mulder."

<I'm on my way> She groaned and she was sure he'd heard her.
She was also relatively sure that he was actually already
somewhere close by. How nice of him to give her warning. Which
was a lot more than he'd given her in the last few weeks.

When had she grown so sarcastic? Probably right around the time
she'd decided she didn't know if she could count on her partner
to trust her, to tell her the truth. How had that happened?

Throwing back the comforter and groaning again for good measure,
she moved with purpose into the bathroom. She resented having
to get dressed, but the idea of having company wearing nothing
but her tee-shirt and panties was not appealing.

A half hour later, dressed in her faded denim with the holes in
the knees and cropped white tee, she made herself some tea. The
warmth of the liquid was almost what she needed. Almost.

His knock was accompanied by him calling her name. As if she'd
left after he'd called. "It's open."

The door swung open as if he was in a hurry, but he stopped
short when he saw her. Seated at the kitchen table, mug in her
hands, her eyes remained lowered. Just enough to avoid eye
contact, but not so much that she couldn't see him.

One hand still on the doorknob... "Are you coming in or did you
plan on talking from there?"

The other suddenly jammed in his pocket. "Uh, yes. Sure. I--,"
he stammered.

Surreptitiously, she took in his expression. He was exhausted,
his face drawn, hair in disorganized spikes. But it was his
eyes that drew her, threatening to knock her resolve off-kilter.

She blinked, slowly, once, then again, hearing rather than
seeing him approach. The soles of his shoes squeaked on the
hardwood flooring, the usual bounce missing from his steps. She
was perversely pleased to note that he seemed unsure of how to
proceed, his pace hesitant, uncertain. Just as she had been
feeling.

His downcast glance seemed to ask her permission to sit and she
lifted her head to level him with her expressionless face. If
he was going to do this, it would be without her help.

She watched him turn the slatted back chair around, straddling
it, his gaze seeking hers. "Scully."

The sound of her name had none of the hesitancy his movements
did. It bade her to look at him and for a brief moment, she
found herself frozen into stillness.

She'd forgotten how this man could convey so much in a single
word. Especially when that word was her name. Where she
preferred to guard her displays, his face was a veritable
catalogue of a wide range of emotion. And it was usually
somewhere deep within those hazel eyes that she could detect a
storm brewing or unspoken joy. Right now, they showcased concern
and maybe...fear. She wasn't sure, but the subtle shifting told
her he wasn't quite sure where to go from 'Scully'.

"Is that what you've come to say, Mulder?" The words were out of
her mouth before she had a chance to think about them. It wasn't
like her to allow her frustration to take over. Dana Scully
didn't operate by the seat of her pants, on a whim. She had a
hold on her thoughts and feelings and shared them with precision.

'But that wasn't entirely true, either, was it,' she mused.
Especially with this man. This man who she'd grown closer to
than any other she had called friend in her thirty some odd
years. This man who exasperated the hell out of her with his
quirks, selfishness and lack of grounding. This man who
oftentimes amazed her with his caring, compassion and single
focus on doing the right thing; even when it wasn't the popular
thing.

Yet she wasn't sure where to go from here.

"Scully," he stood, pushing the chair into the table, and walked
around behind her, his hands hovering over her shoulders.

She made his decision for him, however, when she intoned lowly,
"Don't touch me, Mulder."

Then she, too, was on her feet and moving into the living room.
"Just tell me what you came here to say." Arms crossed, words
clipped, she leveled him with her stare. And watched his face;
looking toward the floor as he rounded to stand before her,
keeping his distance. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She'd already
damned him verbally and mentally many times over the past few
weeks, but...damn him again for what looked like guilt written
all over his face.

"Scully, I'm just going to get this out, so let me tell it all,
okay? Can we sit down?" He took a few steps to place himself by
her side, gesturing to the couch.

"Sit where you want, Mulder. I'll stand for now."

"No slack, huh, partner?"  She felt the sting in his voice, saw
the attempted half-grin.

But he had a point. Had things gone so far that she couldn't
even listen to what he had to say. Probably not, but she just
couldn't see her way past the hurt and humiliation; especially
where Diana was involved.

"Shit, Mulder! How the hell am I supposed to cut you slack? You
damn well walked out on me, you ignored me, you took her side
over mine...again!" She was on the move now, her hands slamming
into the back of the couch as she uncrossed her arms. The
momentum kept her going as she stopped in front of him, her
breathing coming heavily.

"I thought we knew each other better than that. No, I thought we
respected each other more, I..." The word caught in her throat
as the intensity in her voice grew. Beyond her own usually
well-thought out plans, her emotions took over, the anger
spilling, the hurt leading her.

Through tunnel vision, she watched him stand...slowly, worry
etching his face, knitting his brows. His hands once again
reached for her, but she took a step back. "I didn't take her
side, Scully, you have to believe that. I had to follow through
with the plan. She had information. Diana had answers."

Her name again. Didn't he know what it did to her?

Unable to control the flash of anger in her voice, she told him,
"Get out! Just go," and stepped aside giving him a wide berth.

"Fine, Scully. I'm outta here" His voice was gruff, but she
detected hurt and maybe defeat. He was giving up. He got as far
as the door.

Grabbing his wrist, she caught him off-guard, her voice
bordering on hysteria. "You're leaving? I don't buy your excuses
and you just give up, is that it, Mulder? When did we get to
this point?" Her tone fell off as she mouthed his name, her hand
releasing its hold on him.

She observed his indecision with detached resignation colored
by an anger and hurt she wasn't sure how to fathom. Would they
ever work this out?

"Scully...there are things you don't know; things I couldn't
share with you..." Now it was his turn to trail off, unsure of
how to proceed.

"So, tell me, Mulder." They both remained poised by the door and
she had no idea where to go from there. Not one to shy away from
taking the lead, her partner took the first step and headed for
the side chair, nearly collapsing into it. Restless, he moved
about trying to find a suitable position. At another time, it
might have amused her.

She crossed to the couch, choosing to sit on the far end, her
legs crossed at the knee, arms folded in front of her chest, her
body angled in his direction. Waiting.

He leaned forward then, his forearms resting on his knees, head
down. At his first words, he lifted his head, searching her
face.

Looking first at her own hands as she uncrossed her arms and let
them fall to her side, and then at his, aimlessly animated, she
met his gaze.

Held it. Waiting for him to continue.

Strangely, she was tired and weary. So very tired of not knowing
what had happened, where they stood as partners...

She had to lean forward to hear his first words...words that
were spoken barely above a whisper. An imploring whisper.

"Where to begin. So much has happened, Scully. So much that
isn't as it appears."

Her normal pitch sounded almost deafening in the quiet of her
apartment and in contrast to his.  "You're speaking in riddles,
Mulder. Out with it."

Pressing his palms into his thighs, he slowly rose, moving to
sit on the couch, to the left of her feet, careful to keep his
distance. "Not intentionally. It's just that sometimes we've had
to rely on each other without knowing all the facts. Make
decisions on the fly, trusting that the other would understand.
Right?" He turned toward her, his right leg bent at the knee,
resting on the couch.

She nodded for him to continue, her hands now resting in her lap.

"I mean, we've both been involved within a certain set of
circumstances that have dictated appearances, driven behavior,
necessitated divorcing ourselves from each other in order to
pursue the goal."  She marveled at how this man could marshal
the words to weave a reasonably intelligible discourse, but she
needed more. She needed answers without qualification or
subterfuge.

She knew he'd eventually get to the crux of the matter, but in
the meantime, he was driving her around the bend. It was a
classic stalling technique.

As he drew in his next breath, most likely prepared to skirt the
facts a little longer, she brusquely interrupted him. "Mulder."
That got his attention. "You're trying to tell me something
about this trip of yours. Do I have to play twenty questions
here or are you going to just tell me?"

She could see the internal debate in his eyes; should he, could
he? How much longer did she have to wait to hear what she had
the feeling would answer very little?

"Skinner, Skinner had me on a case. He was working with OPR on
an internal investigation and they needed more information." Now
that the words had started to flow, it was almost as if he
couldn't stop.

But she was finding the information a little hard to swallow. "And
you couldn't tell me about it? Couldn't answer any of my questions
for two weeks? That is, if my assumption that your mysterious phone
call, meeting with the unnamed agent in the hallway and the
appearance of Agent Fowley at the crime scene are all connected."


She could sit no longer. "This isn't getting us anywhere, is it?"

Raking his hand through his hair, he stood, joining her. "No,
it's not Scully, but I can't tell the story unless you're
willing to stop asking me more questions."

Before she could give voice to the look of frustration on her
face, he continued. "I know what this all must look like to you.
Can't say it wouldn't look exactly the same way to me, but I
thought you knew me better than that."

They stood less than a foot apart now, a glaring stalemate. Her
head tilted to one side and one eyebrow raised she waited.

"I was undercover, Scully. Reports had been coming in over the
last several months regarding some not so kosher activities.
Most of these activities involved Diana; directly or indirectly."

She was barely aware of her partner's hand on hers, gently
pulling it away from her body, guiding her over to the couch.
Sitting side-by-side and turned toward each other, she looked
down at her fingers twined with his, not really remembering when
she had decided holding hands was all right.

"You're not going to say anything, ask any questions, Scully?"
She noted the somewhat bemused expression, but schooled hers to
remain neutral.

"Mulder...the results?" she asked him, "What did you find?"

"Not nearly enough, but I did manage to pull in some outside
sources who will be able to finish what Skinner had me initiate,
hopefully before the trail grows any colder." He squeezed her
fingers, trying to draw her hand closer to his leg, but she
resisted.

"You avoided me, evaded my questions." She paused, and took a
deep breath, pushing away the pain caused by his actions.  His
all too recent actions. Reminiscent of a pattern she hoped had been
broken long ago.

"You ditched me, Mulder."  She glanced down, noting how his
thumb seemed to be tracing imaginary patterns in her palm...how
his eyes followed hers.

"I was doing my job, Scully; nothing more, nothing less. You
would have done the same."

"You don't know that, Mulder. I do know you were doing what
Skinner asked, but damn it, when the hell have you ever followed
protocol, done what you were told? We're a team, or I thought we
were." As he began to shake his head, she continued,  "All
right, we're not officially assigned as partners right now, but
you know what I'm talking about."

Through it all, he seemed unwilling or unable to release
his hold on her. Their connection.

"What made this 'undercover' case any different than the others
you'd been assigned?" She shook her head when she noticed his
attempt to respond. "Those others that you either enlisted my
help or at least let me know you were going undercover and would
be out of touch?" The sting of the initial anger had abated,
although she still wondered at his reticence to include her.

Fidgeting. Classic.  Drawing his bent knee toward his body, he
turned, facing her completely. Their still connected hands now
resting on the back of the couch.

"I don't know what made this case different, Scully...," he
trailed off, gathering his thoughts, "But I think it may have
had something to do with who was being investigated and the fact
that I was going to have to have substantial contact with her.
Something told me that your reaction might make it, uhm somewhat
distracting to my work."

Although she remained seated, Scully pulled her hand free as her
mouth opened, her eyes expressing her incredulity. "Do you really
believe that I'd compromise your work, Mulder, because of a
professional disagreement with Diana Fowley?"

"'Professional disagreement' is one way of putting it, Scully."
She wanted to wipe the arrogant smirk from his face. But also
resigned herself to the fact that he did have a point, albeit a
weak one.

"Point taken, Mulder. But I can't believe you'd honestly think
I'd let my feelings interfere." She noted his wince at the
tartness of her voice.

"I don't necessarily think that. What I know is that I had a
tight timeline, little to go on. You know the drill, Scully;
places to go, people to see?"

This time, her fingers sought his, twining, joining and resting
on her leg. She said nothing in response, knowing she was
becoming more at ease with the situation, but was still waiting
to hear that which would allow their partnership, sanctioned or
not, to regain its former status.

"What can I say? Proactive notification and explanation aren't
my strong suit?"

She'd missed that smile. The one that started out as nothing more
than a glistening in his eyes, traveled to his mouth where the
corners turned up first. And then blossomed into a full tilt
whole face grin. With teeth.

"Yeah, you could say that, partner.  But I thought we had a plan.
Thought we were working toward mutual inclusion, teamwork?" Her
smile held the question, her lips pursed, then curling upward.

"Scully, we don't need anyone to officially declare our
partnership. They made us a team long ago when they assigned you
to work with me. Okay, I admit their intentions were far afield
from where we are now, but you and me working together has been
a done deal since that day you waltzed into my office, scrubbed
and professional and really wet behind the ears." She could tell
he was proud of himself based on the all-out smile that headed
toward lopsided.

"I was not 'wet behind the ears', Mulder. You know darn well what
I'd accomplished before I was recruited." She was only
half-serious in her rebuke, her eyes catching his.

Ignoring her rebuttal, he continued, "The point *is* Agent
Scully, circumstances beyond our control might send us in
different directions at different times, but there isn't
anything I can think of that could split up apart."

Feeling the warmth of his hand on her leg, she smiled. "I
couldn't have said it better myself Agent Mulder."

~~Finis~~