Latine Loqui Coactus Sum

AUTHOR: Aloysia Virgata
aloysia.virgata@yahoo.com


DISTRIBUTION/FEEDBACK: aloysia.virgata@yahoo.com. Just ask before
archiving, please.

RATING: PG-13

CLASSIFICATION: Vignette

SPOILERS: Let's just say it's everything.

SUMMARY: I trust her to shoot me when I need to be shot.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, Chris Carter, 1013, the usual.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a follow-up to a silly thing I wrote in
response to those viral vids they put out for IWTB. Zoe42 said she'd
like to see a sequel and it sounded like a fun thing to do.

As ever, many thanks to Dasha and Scarlet for not calling the nice
men with nets.

I neglected to explain the title of Si Hoc Legere Potes, Liberaliter
Educatus - "If you can read this, you are very well educated" - in my
other author's notes and got a bunch of queries about it. So, before
I forget to include it, the title of this piece means "I have a
compulsion to speak Latin." (Just teasing a little, Chris. You know I
loves you.)

You can find Si Hoc etc. at http://undertherug.insatiable-
mind.net/sihoc.htm


**********


"All I'm saying is that Smurfette was the only female Smurf there and
Baby Smurf had to come from somewhere. They called him *Papa* Smurf,
Scully. Now why do you suppose that is?"

"Stop saying Smurf."

He holds the door open and then walks in after me. I give the
receptionist a tight smile as I push past the large vase of calla
lilies and head for Allison's office. The door is open and we walk
in, both of us looking around again at the tasteful artwork and
listening to the soft burble of the stone fountain in the corner.
It's been years, but old habits die hard and we still enter every
unfamiliar space like we're casing the joint.

Allison comes in behind us and takes a seat on her overstuffed
armchair, her wicked red shoes vibrant against the white upholstery.
"Good morning! How are we doing today?"

"Just Smurfy," Mulder says, settling onto the couch.

I pretend he has not spoken. "We're fine, thank you."

"Good, good. Can I get you anything? Some water? Coffee?"

We both decline as she flips through her notes. "So on Monday we
started to discuss the professional bond you two shared, and how that
came from a place of mutual trust and respect. I was really impressed
by that and - as per our agreement - I talked it over with Deputy
Director Skinner. He agreed that your partnership was nearly unique
in many ways. My hope is that we can delve further into that today."

I give her the same laminated smile I have given my mother over the
years when she tried to get me to "talk."

"That sounds nice," Mulder lies cheerfully. "I was profoundly moved
by the depth of all that we uncovered last time, Allison. Really gave
me some food for thought."

She brightens; her dazzling smile a tribute to the artistry of a
cosmetic dentist who probably owns a summer villa in Tuscany. "That's
wonderful, Fox! So, let's start talking about the level of trust
between you. It's clearly such a strong part of the foundation you
have. Talk to me about how that kind of trust develops." Her
Montblanc pen hovers over the thick cream paper like a dragonfly.

Mulder crosses his legs and clasps his hand around the right knee.
"Oh, gosh. I wouldn't know where to start. I have trusted Scully's
instincts from day one. Her scientific approach to the investigative
method was always deeply appreciated."

I cough politely and Mulder grants me a beatific smile.

"Something you'd like to add, Dana?" queries Allison. "Remember, this
is a place for sharing."

Mulder pats my leg. "Yes, Dana. Share."

"I just had something caught in my throat," I say. What I do not say
is that it was the big chunk of bullshit he expected me to swallow.

"Perhaps you'd like to reconsider that beverage after all," Mulder
suggests. I give him a warning look.

Allison turns her attention to me. "And you, Dana? Has your trust
towards Fox been there since the beginning?"

I consider how best to word this. "I have always trusted that, in any
given situation, Mulder would do his utmost to act in accordance with
his beliefs and worldview."

She nods, scribbling furiously. "Mmm-hmmm...so you see him as a man
of principle then?"

"Undeniably. In fact, I'd say Mulder's concern for the principle of a
thing is one of his most notable characteristics."

Next to me, Mulder smirks.

Allison looks up. "Okay! Well, I'd like to talk about how that trust
worked over the years. How did it affect your communication?"

"Our communication transcended the spoken word," Mulder deadpans. "We
eventually developed a series of secret handshakes."

I pinch his arm discreetly. "What Mulder means is that, over time, we
became highly attuned to the other's way of thinking and were able to
anticipate things without necessarily discussing them first."

"That's so wonderful," Allison chirps. "Truly. Many people go their
whole lives without making that sort of connection with anyone, and
from what you've told me here and from what I've gleaned from my
conversations with Deputy Director Skinner, it sounds like you bonded
almost instantly."

"I think the nature of our jobs helped with that," I offer before she
turns this into a Hallmark card. "When you're constantly in life-
threatening situations, you have to develop that level of trust with
someone for your own safety and survival."

Allison nods sagely. "That's so true, Dana. Now what are some of the
situations where you found yourself most reliant on your trust in
Fox?"

Shit. I set myself up nicely for *that,* didn't I?

"Um... I'm not really sure what you mean," I stall.

"I mean, what were some of the life-threatening situations where -had
it not been for the trust between you - you might not have survived?
I'd like to examine some of that professional history between you."

I look at Allison carefully. She has no idea what she's asking. This
is not her usual brand of couples' therapy. She's used to money
squabbles and sexual tedium; not alien conspiracies and ice-pick
lobotomies. I can't tell her about the time I shot a necrophiliac
serial killer at point blank range. It would upset the highly
polished superficiality of her world.

Mulder senses my reservation. "It's been a long time, Allison. I'm
sure it's difficult for Scully to recall specific incidents after so
many years."

I offer him the flicker of a smile while Allison jots things down.

"I sense some reluctance on your part, Dana. And I see that Fox
senses it as well and that he's protective of your privacy."

"As he said, it's very difficult to recall after so long."

"I'd like you to try. Last time you said...let me see. Ah! 'Knowing
that if I was in trouble, the chances were he was doing everything in
his power to come help me.' That says a great deal about how
important that aspect of your relationship was to you, Dana."

There's really nothing quite so bitter as the taste of one's own
words, is there? I rub my thumb over my fingernails as I consider
this. Hell, if Mulder can have fun with this, so can I.

"Well, there's the time I shot him. I really trusted him to
understand why I had to do that. For both our sakes."

Allison blinks. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Shot. Him. Just a flesh wound in the shoulder. He recovered
quickly."

Mulder looks delighted by this turn of events. "It still aches a
little in the humidity, but what can you do? I trust her to shoot me
when I need to be shot."

Allison turns the page and continues writing.

I tap my lip thoughtfully. "When I was stung by a bee carrying an
unknown virus and was then abducted by men pretending to be
paramedics, I trusted Mulder to find me and bring me home. He came
all the way to Antarctica. That really touched me."

Allison stares at us, her chocolate-colored eyes wide.

"Ah, yes. The bee," Mulder muses. "That came as such a disappointment
for so many reasons. And do you know I didn't see a single penguin
the whole time we were in Antarctica? I was crushed."

"I'm pretty sure that was their mating season," I tell him. "Perhaps
they're clandestine."

Mulder considers this. "I don't think they have to be clandestine.
What are their natural predators on the ice? There aren't any polar
bears down there, Scully. Did you know that the Antarctic takes its
name from the Greek 'anti-arktos,' meaning 'no bears?' "

"Yes, I did. Perhaps they were wary of seals. Or they're camera shy."

"I didn't bring my camera. There wasn't a lot of time to pack, you
know? You didn't really give me any advance warning, which is your
usual MO when you go missing."

I flick his leg. "You could have brought an extra gas can for the
Sno-Cat."

"I'll do better next time."

"Uh, thank you," Allison says. I am impressed by her composure. She
is made of sterner stuff than I reckoned.

"Sorry," I say. "Where were we?"

Her expression is somewhat dazed. "We were discussing your, um, trust
in one another."

"Yes," I say. "We're very trusting."

She scans her notes quickly. "So, have there been times when you felt
you *couldn't* trust one another? I'd like to hear what that was
like. Fox, why don't you start?"

Mulder uncrosses his legs and sprawls back on the couch. "Well, right
after my father was murdered, I had my suspicions that she'd been
spying on me and suspected me of being the killer. That was
stressful."

"That's right around the time I shot him," I add. "It was a difficult
period in our relationship."

"I imagine so," says Allison. She looks flustered.

"The whole Diana...thing." Mulder says. "That wasn't great."

"No," I agree. "It wasn't. Honestly, Mulder. What were you even
thinking with her?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Hey, at least she wasn't some bucktoothed
yokel from Pig Spit, Texas."

I roll my eyes. "Really? You're still insisting he had big buck
teeth? Grow up, Mulder. You were so jealous."

He looks astounded. "Jealous? He was a vampire, Scully. A *hick*
vampire."

"Whatever you say."

Allison's Pantene-model hair is losing its bounce because she keeps
running her fingers through it. She's definitely beginning to fray at
the edges and is stealing incredulous glances as she writes

"You got your little claws out when Phoebe came to town."

"She was a sociopath!" I say indignantly. "For Christ's sake, Mulder,
she pretended she'd put a bomb in the car. That isn't normal."

"She may have had an excessively dark sense of humor," Mulder
concedes.

"Fox, Dana," Allison interrupts. "Let's try to stay on track for the
moment. Have there been any other instances where you felt uneasy
being forthcoming with the other? Times when you held back?"

We ponder this for a moment. "I told him I'd never hit a baseball,
but I was the captain of my high school's JV softball team in tenth
grade," I say.

Mulder stares at me, open-mouthed. "You lied to me?"

I return his nonchalant shrug of earlier. "You knew the date of the
apocalypse and didn't tell me. I'd say this is minor in comparison."

He shakes his head. "Oh no you don't. This is not about me. You lied
about *baseball,* Scully. That violates a sacred trust."

"I knew how to read box scores too," I inform him cruelly. "And that
wasn't a Tofutti Rice Dreamsicle either. It was a Nestle King Cone."

"I don't even know you," he says in a wounded tone. "I don't know
what to believe anymore."

I rub his shoulder. "You seemed so giddy about it, Mulder. You were
so eager to teach me how to play, I didn't want to spoil it."

"I was trying to get laid."

"That explains why you had your crotch grinding into my..."

Allison clears her throat and makes a show of looking at her watch.
"That's all the time we have for today, I'm afraid."

"What a shame," says Mulder as he gives me a cold look. "It was just
getting interesting."

"You can leave out that last part when you talk to Skinner," I
suggest. "It's probably not all that important."

"Right," says Allison, sounding distracted. "You know, I don't really
know how much more there is to gain from future sessions. I'll talk
it over with the Deputy Director and get his opinion." She gets to
her feet and straightens her lovely gray suit as we stand up and
shake her hand.

We follow her out to the lobby and then take our leave of her office.
Mulder crosses his arms and fixes me with a level stare. "Lucy," he
says. "You have some 'splainin' to do."

"Woman's prerogative," I tell him archly. "Besides, you have no
complaints, as I recall."

"If I'd known you were a sucker for jocks, I would have done that
years before."

I laugh and take his hand. "Come on, Mulder. I think we just scored
ourselves a Get Out Of Jail Free card. I'd say that deserves a
celebratory meal. What are you up for? We haven't been to CityZen in
ages."

He leans down so that his lips brush my ear. "How about a pickup game
instead?"

We walk out to the parking lot and I let him take me home.


**********


The End

Check out my site at http://undertherug.insatiable-
mind.net/Aloysia.htm