By Vickie Moseley
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com
 

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 and my
website
http://vickiemoseley.freeservers.com
Feedback to me:  vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com.
 
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.