Title: Mulder and Scully 101 Author: Vickie Moseley Summary: In Scully's apartment, a long awaited kiss. But elsewhere, the truth is learned. Rating: PG Category: MSR, Doggett angst, Skinnerfic Disclaimer: I'm not infringing on any copyright. Archive: yes Author's notes: I was driven to do this by my muse, who caught me watching 'The Truth Behind Season 8' on the Season 8 disc set. I think it was Vince or maybe Spotz who said 'we never intended to alter the Mulder and Scully dynamic'. Well, guys, you missed that mark. So I figured I'd help you out a little. That is what fan fic is for, you know. Sally, forgive me and don't read this. Lisa, thanks for the encouragement and the lightning fast beta when you were already swamped. This could be considered a sequel to Confronting the Facts, which can be found on Gossamer. Mulder and Scully 101 by Vickie Moseley It was a little past nine and I was just leaving for the day when I saw Agent Doggett pull into his parking space in the garage. "Forget something, Agent?" I asked as I passed him on the way to my car. He frowned and seemed awfully interested in the crack in the cement of the garage floor. "Just thought I'd get a little paper work done, sir," he muttered and headed off to the elevators. "Did you get by to see Agent Scully and the baby?" I called out to his retreating back. I had called Scully earlier and gave her my congratulations. Arlene had already sent flowers for the both of us. One of these days I really needed to take my assistant out for a well deserved drink. But I noticed that John hadn't answered my question. "You were going over there, weren't you?" I asked again. He stopped but didn't turn to face me. I walked the few feet to stand next to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "John, did you get to see Scully and the baby or what?" He drew in a breath and huffed it out. "I drove over there. But he was there, so I didn't bother going up." It didn't take a genius to know who 'he' was. I had thought that after Mulder left the X files, John and he had come to some kind of understanding. I had obviously thought wrong. "John, forget the paperwork. Let's go get a drink." He looked like he was considering a negative response but at the last second he nodded. "Meet me at Casey's," I told him and went off to get in my car. I didn't insult him by waiting to see if he'd follow. The bar was close to empty, but then it was a Wednesday night. We found a booth near the restrooms, away from the lingering smoke over the bar and ordered two beers. I took off my suit coat and loosened my tie. John sat across from me and stared at the deep gouges in the wood of the table. The beers came quickly and I lifted mine in salute. "To Scully's new son," I said and waited. He lifted his bottle and clinked it against mine. "To the baby," he said and we both shared a good long drink. I put my bottle down and watched as he proceeded to finish his off in a sequence of long draughts. Either the man was thirsty or there was something on his mind. "So, it's a boy," I said, not really knowing where I wanted to head the conversation. He signaled to the waitress and soon two more beers appeared on the table. He wasted no time putting a dent in his. "Yeah. I guess," he finally said, wiping some foam from his lips. "At least, that's what Monica told me." "You could call her, you know," I said. "Scully. She wouldn't mind. She'd probably be happy to hear from you." He snorted at that. "I doubt that quite a bit," he said with a bitter chuckle. "She certainly doesn't need me anymore." Several million suspicions were confirmed in that moment, but I tried to keep my facial expression neutral. John Doggett hadn't asked for the X files, he'd been tossed in headfirst. If, along the way, he happened to fall hard for Dana Scully, well he wouldn't be the first man, present company included. I would venture to guess he wouldn't be the last, either. But I felt, as a fellow sufferer in that most peculiar of addictions, that I could give him a little advice. "I think you need to know a little about them, John," I said evenly. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all. They were together for 7 years, been to hell and back and back to hell again. He's special. Yadda, yadda, yadda," he growled and finished off the second beer. Before I could respond his hand was up, signaling for another beer. This time I fended off the offer of another and used the time to gather my thoughts. "You know, she was sent to destroy him," I said when he'd had a sip of his third beer. He stopped in mid drink and stared at me. "I'm serious. Mulder, as you can well imagine, made quite a few enemies. But when he was in Violent Crimes, he always made several patrons. A member of Congress got him the X files. The Director couldn't really give a rat's ass, as long as the appropriation bill for the Bureau got through the subcommittee unscathed. But some under the Director were pissed." "They were still talking about Mulder when I went through the Academy," John said quietly. "'Course, I thought most of what they said was just bullshit, the stuff of legends. Nobody could be that good." "Mulder was," I replied earnestly. "I watched him. He was . . . he was uncanny, the way he could get in their minds. Some people thought he had to be a serial himself, he could think like them so well. Some people -- well, you've heard his nickname." "Spooky," he spat out and didn't hide the belch that followed. "Yeah. Well, I also know that profiling almost killed him. He had to get out or die." "Highest suicide rate in the Bureau," John quoted, but I could see I still hadn't made an impression on him. "Yeah. Well, he wanted to look into the unexplained cases -- " "To find his sister. So tell me something I don't know," he sneered. "Tell me why she puts up with his shit. Tell me why he can get off treating her like she's his maid or his servant or his goddamn wet nurse! Tell me why he can run off and almost get himself killed and she's fallin' all over herself to defend him. Tell me, Skinner. Tell me because I sure was hell want to know!" This was going to take some time, but I felt it was important. "He ditched her on their second case," I said and didn't give him an opportunity to do more than smirk. "She saved his ass from a military installation." "See, just what I was sayin'," he replied happily. "And then, he saved her life on their third case." That seemed to get his attention. "Eugene Victor Tooms. They had been working the case with Colton out of Baltimore." "Tom Colton?" he asked. At my affirmation he nodded. "That man's a prick." "And has been for a long time. Anyway, Mulder knew Tooms had killed four times already, and was going to kill again. I won't go into the details, but somehow Tooms targeted Scully. Attacked her in her own apartment, in her bathroom. Mulder got there just in time." John looked away, thinking for a moment, but his face hardened again. "It's what partners do," he said firmly. "True enough. During that first year, they were pretty much even. He'd save her, she'd save his ass. She really saved his ass when he got shot in North Carolina. If she hadn't gotten the bleeding under control, well, he would have been dead before the ambulance got there. But all in all, it was even." I waited a minute. "And then the X files were closed and they were separated." He sat there, impassive. At least he was listening. "Mulder was put on wire tap." That merited a grimace. "Yeah, you can imagine. It's the worst assignment you can have shoved at you. It was just to break him, see if he'd quit. Of course, he didn't. At least, not until she was taken." A tiny light went on in his eyes. He'd seen the file. "She was abducted. But it wasn't aliens," he insisted. "We're not sure who it was. Scully has always thought it was the military. Mulder, well, you know what Mulder thinks. But the fact of the matter is that he was a walking shell for the three months she was missing. If you think Scully was a basket case looking for him, you haven't seen anything. There were times when I was sure he was starving himself to death. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat. I sent him on assignments, hoping to get his mind off it. I half expected him to wind up dead, but I had to do something. And then, just as suddenly, she was back, but more dead than alive." "Sounds vaguely familiar," he said dryly. "Yeah, real familiar. Right down to that part where everyone around him gave up on her, were just waiting for her to die," I said with just a hint of sarcasm. I realized a long time ago that Doggett didn't have half the information I had, but I still resented the way he reacted to Mulder's exhumation. He had the good grace to swallow and look away. "He sat with her, all night. Missed a chance at revenge, missed a chance to kill the bastards who put her there in that coma. When she came back, it was on the strength of his belief in her." Doggett was chewing his lip now. Maybe it was all sinking in. "It wasn't that long after that she contracted cancer." At his shocked expression, I hesitated. I thought that was in the files, too. So many of the files had been destroyed in the fire, maybe Scully's cancer was in those still unaccounted for. "She had cancer? When?" "She contracted nasopharengeal cancer in 1997. It was inoperable and diagnosed terminal." He looked like I'd just sucker punched him in the gut. "But how did -- " "Mulder found a chip, at great risk, I might add. It was in the Defense Department's underground storage facility. It was surgically inserted into her neck. It's there today. Without it, she would have died, there is no denying that." "A lot happened in those seven years, is that what you're tryin' to tell me?" he asked with forced calm. "A lot. That's an understatement. But let me just let you in on the big stuff. If you've read the files, you know he went to Antarctica to find her after she'd been abducted again." "Yeah, I saw something about that. It was connected with the bombin' in Dallas." "The report doesn't mention that Agent Mulder had been shot at close range, in the head, and that he left his hospital bed to travel 36 hours to reach her, including a 150 mile trek across open ice fields in a half track," I rattled off calmly. "No, there was no mention -- a gunshot wound to the head?" he asked, incredulous. "Sir, that's -- " "I was called that night. When I got to the hospital, he was still being examined. Fortunately, it was a glancing shot, but the fact remains he had a concussion, had been unconscious for nearly 8 hours and left the hospital against medical advice. Well, it would have been against medical advice, if he'd bothered to consult his doctor. He just took off." Doggett looked skeptical, not that I blamed him. "So how did he know to go to Antarctica?" "Unofficial channels," I said with a smile. He didn't buy that answer, so I had to be straight with him. "He had an informant. Someone connected with the men who took Scully. He was also given a vaccine against the alien virus." "So that's how Scully knew so much about the virus," Doggett said to himself. "Actually, Mulder had been exposed to the virus once before -- " "In Alaska," Doggett supplied. "Yeah, I saw the file." "Of course, that time Scully went to all lengths to find him. John, they have literally followed each other to the ends of the earth." "I got that," he said with a sullen expression. "I'm a little fuzzy on how Scully knew she couldn't have children." "When she was abducted the first time, Scully's ova were stolen. She was left barren. But the Christmas after they were in Antarctica she found out she had a daughter." I gave him a moment to deal with that revelation. "Her name was Emily Sims. She was five years old and she was . . . created. She was part -- " "I saw the file on Emily Sims." His brow furrowed and he stared at me. "You're sayin' her daughter was part . . . alien?" I nodded. "Scully petitioned for custody. The parents, the adoptive parents, had both been killed under mysterious circumstances. Mulder went out to testify on Scully's behalf at the custody hearing. He ended up finding the monster who'd created Emily, who was creating others like her. But then the man, this doctor, just vanished and all evidence with him." "And Emily died," he said, regret coloring his voice. "She died. Without the drugs the doctor was using to inhibit the alien growth in her, she died. According to the report that Mulder submitted after the incident, the body was stolen before burial. Even so, the headstone is in a cemetery in San Diego." John swallowed another sip of beer, but not as much as he'd been drinking down. I continued. "About a year and a half later, Mulder was almost driven insane by exposure to an artifact believed to be from a downed spacecraft. Scully left him in a mental ward and went to the coast of Africa to find a cure. When she returned, he disappeared from the hospital. He'd been taken. Days later, she found him, but they had operated on his brain. If she hadn't found him when she did, he would have died, they'd gotten what they wanted and left him for dead. It wasn't long after that time, now this is all speculation on my part, but I think that's when they finally crossed the line. They'd loved each other for such a long time. They just stopped denying it to themselves." Doggett drew in a deep breath. I had to give the man credit, he was taking it better than I would have expected. "They are each other's reason for living. They truly are two halves of one whole. There is no Scully without Mulder and equally no Mulder without Scully. If you could have met her before he was abducted, she was a different person. She was strong, confident. She took anything that was thrown at her. After he was taken, I don't think it was just hormones. She was fragile, she seemed lost -- let's just say that the only reason she's alive right now is because she was carrying that baby -- " "'His' baby," Doggett interjected. "See, I don't think she was sure of that. I think they both have been afraid to believe it could be true; that they could have something that simple, that miraculous, happen to them. But yes, it was the only thing keeping her alive. My greatest fear after we buried him was what would happen after the child was born. Would she see him in the baby's face and want to be there for the child, or would she feel her job was done and . . . join Mulder, wherever he was." "But the way he's been -- Sir, he's been a bastard to her. Hell, he's been a bastard to everybody!" I shook my head. "John, put yourself in his shoes. He was taken, against his will. He was tortured, you saw his body! My god, imagine what they did to him! He was dead and buried, for Christ sakes. And then, when he was resurrected, he came back to a life that had moved on without him. A world where his job, his X files, had been taken over by someone else. His partner suddenly had another partner -- experiences that he hadn't shared with her. Worse yet, the woman he loved was pregnant, but she had no explanation as to how it happened, and they were both certain it was impossible. In the back of his mind, and hers, too, the thought kept coming up that the baby might not be his, that it was just like Emily all over again and that had to be the most frightening thing either of them could imagine. How would you feel?" I didn't give him time to answer, I was on a roll. "Now Mulder has pulled a lot of dumb stunts since returning, but if you look closely at all of them, there is a common thread." "Aliens." "And by extension -- " "Scully's baby," Doggett answered with a downcast look to the table. "Right in one," I reply. "He's been -- " "Trying to find out the truth about that baby. To see if there is 'alien involvement'. To protect . . . to protect Scully." "So, you asked me how she can put up with that shit? I think you have your answer." "I'm too much of a skeptic to look out for her in that way, so he did it." "You were never in the equation, John. It's always been about 'them', the two of them. Mulder and Scully against the world, the universe actually. They have some kind of special connection that the rest of us would kill for, but will never attain. They exist only for each other and it's a wonder to behold. But through it all, John, you and I are just observers." He looked up at me, and I'm almost positive there were tears in his eyes, but I ignored them. I'd been there enough times already to recognize the very private pain that comes when you realize you couldn't have your heart's desire. "So, that's how he knew where she was, is that what you're tellin' me? How he knew where to find her and Monica and the baby without the coordinates?" I shrugged. That was my guess, and his too, obviously. But neither of us would ever know for sure. "I thought . . . I thought all this time since he's been back that she's been upset about him, about his actions. She was really upset about the possibility that the baby was alien." I could only nod. "I've been a fool," he said sadly. I pushed my untouched second beer closer to him and shook my head. "No, you just didn't have enough information to process the facts properly," I told him. "Now, all that matters is what you do with all the information." He shook his head. "Bow out gracefully." I drew in a deep breath. I understood the feeling, but I'd gotten past it a long time ago. I needed to walk him through the same thought processes I'd had back then. "John, it's hard, but sometimes the best thing you can be is a friend." He looked up at me from his perusal of the table top. "Friend?" "Yes. Scully thinks highly of you. Do you have any idea how rare that is? Mulder doesn't hold a grudge, or god knows he'd hold one against me. And I think if you give him a chance, Mulder just might grow on you, too." "He saved my ass on the oil rig. I thought he was going to get us both killed, but in the end -- " "He's a good man. She's a good woman. But together, they are incredible," I told him. He sat there for a full minute, saying nothing. Finally he looked down at his watch. "Wow. Look at the time," he said. "I need to get home. I, ah, I have to go baby shopping in the morning. Maybe stop by and give the . . . the little family my congratulations." I smiled, I understood. Better yet, I felt he now understood. It would make everything so much easier. "I think that's a great idea," I said firmly. He stood and pulled out his wallet, but I stopped him before he reached in for any bills. "This one is on me, John," I said with a grin. "But the next one?" "Is on you," I confirmed. He grinned back at me. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks, uh, -- " "Walter," I said. "Off hours, it's just Walter. Remember, John, we're all in this together." His smile got bigger. "Yeah, I guess we are." "You OK to drive?" "I'm gonna grab a cab," he said hesitantly. "No need. I'll give you a ride, you can pick up the car in the morning." When I dropped him off at his house a few minutes later, he seemed calmer, not as angry. I don't know if he'd feel the same way in the morning. But at least now, he knew the truth. the end.