By Toniann
ts19@cornell.edu
 

Rating: PG
Category: Story, Pre-episode
Spoilers: None at all.
Keywords: CSM, mytharc, conspiracy
Archive: I have already submitted to Gossamer.
Elsewhere, by all means. Just let me know where.
Summary: A discussion takes place before the events
of The Pilot.
Disclaimer: None of it belongs to me. But don't let
that stop you from reading.

Web site:
http://home.earthlink.net/~hiraeth/fanfic.html

_____________________________________________________
 

It should come as no surprise to you that I have my
own agenda regarding the selection of Fox Mulder's
new partner.

I always have my own agenda.

We sit here in Blevins' office, just a few of our
select group, going over the dossiers of some of the
FBI's finest. We debate, we discuss, we compare.

In certain ways, all of our... finalists... are
alike.

They are all, first and foremost, women. There was
never any question of assigning Mulder a male partner
at this time. We know his weaknesses. We've always
known them.

They are all brilliant. They are all young. They are
all innocent of our plans. They are also all
beautiful. But that's where the similarities end.

Claire Dovanovich, for example, is a former Marine.
Sydney Clarkson competed in the 1988 Olympics, track
and field. Valerie Shepard is a biologist, out of
Harvard. And the list goes on.

But what difference, really? They're all women, all
qualified, all perfect for the job.

But not for my job.

Blevins shuffles through the files on his desk,
searching for one in particular. "Amanda Reeves."

I pause to light a fresh cigarette before answering.
"What of her?"

"I think that's who we should go with."

"Refresh my memory."

Blevins reads from the file. "Amanda Reeves, twenty-
eight, recently divorced, no children. Has a degree
in psychology from Princeton. Finished seventh in her
class. No close family, parents live in Florida. Grew
up in Massachusetts."

"Let's see her," I state disinterestedly, having
already seen the Reeves file.

Pulling out her badge photo, Blevins lays it on the
desk for our perusal. I give the others a few moments
to study it, watching their faces. Finally, Blevins
himself concedes the point. "It's true there is a
resemblance..."

"A resemblance?" I reply.

He looks flustered, unwilling to concede the point.
"Agent Fowley was not entirely unsuccessful in her
efforts--"

Jackson cuts in, scoffing. "Ultimately, she was a
failure-- or else we wouldn't be here today."

"And why are we here today?" Crisfeld asks
impatiently.

"We're here to choose a spy," I tell him. In some
ways, it's the truth. We are. But there are many
truths, after all, some of them more complicated than
others. Some of them hiding behind the obvious, the
surface. All of which, for the record, Fox Mulder has
yet to learn.

Crisfeld's question, though, is a good one. Why are
we here, this collection of great men, poring over
agent files like so many judges at a beauty contest?
We're here because of Fox Mulder, and we're here
because he needs to be reined in.

Blevins sighs and tosses the file aside. "Fine,
Reeves is out of the running. I grant you, she's too
obvious a choice. Mulder would never trust her."

There's nothing like watching a man come to a
conclusion you've led him to, with just a few simple
words.

"I find it hard to believe Mulder will trust anyone
we send to him," Jackson interjects.

Again, I allow a small silence before replying,
dismissively. "You don't know Mulder."

Jameson speaks up, somewhat nervously. "I think Agent
Phillips would be an excellent choice."

The others nod, considering. Victoria Phillips, age
thirty-one, recently transferred from Seattle. A
professor of criminal justice, with a degree from
Berkeley. Single. Smart, outspoken, and a record of
unswerving Bureau loyalty. Just the kind of woman to
shut Mulder down, all within the confines of policy
and protocol. Just the woman to stand up to Mulder,
and the initial attack he is bound to launch at
anyone we send his way.

Blevins looks pleased and nods. "Then we're all--"

"You might want to check her file again," I interrupt
from a calm haze of smoke. "For updated information."

He gives me a long look and gestures to Jackson to
pull up the Phillips file from the Bureau database.

Jackson types silently, waits for a response, and
getting one, stares at the screen before turning to
glare in my direction. "She just put in for maternity
leave."

Around the room there is some sputtering and a few
comments of surprise. Blevins just looks at me. He
knows. But what of it?

"How... inconvenient," he says finally, attempting to
shrug it off. "That leaves us back at square one,
gentlemen."

Now.

"I believe I can provide a viable alternative," I
state, and pause, lighting another cigarette. By the
time I'm done, all eyes are turned in my direction.
"Dana Scully."

Crisfeld looks surprised. "The doctor?"

"The pathologist," I correct him simply.

Once again, the shuffle of papers is the only sound
to fill the room as these few good men take a look at
our latest contestant.

"She's..." Jameson begins hesitantly. "She's
different."

"Yes, she is," I reply.

You could hear a pin drop in this room right now. And
you can also hear the tide turning. Like sheep, all
of them. They all just want to be led.

"Father's in the Navy, an officer," Jackson states
questioningly. "That's probably in our favor."

"How?" Crisfeld questions belligerently.

"Loyalty." I am met with a blank stare. They need it
explained to them. "She's been raised on the idea of
loyalty to her country. Loyalty to what is right and
what is wrong. She'll do the right thing. She won't
be swayed to bend the rules."

Jameson nods gamely. "And she's a scientist. You
know, she won't go for Mulder's... little green men."

This time the silence is heavy. We all know, now,
what Agent Dana Scully's primary qualification is.
She's a skeptic. A non-believer. She won't see the
truth when it is right in front of her, unless she
can prove it scientifically. And believe me when I
tell you, she'll never be able to.

The tide has turned; they're all in agreement now.

Even Crisfeld. "So, Agent Scully it is, then?"

Mutters of acceptance and quick nods-- from all but
the man I've been watching the entire time, and who
hasn't said a word.

Blevins stares at me for a long moment. We've worked
together quite some time now, Section Chief Blevins
and I. We were young men together. We may become old
men together. Or maybe not. Regardless, out of all
the great men gathered in this room, he is the only
one who knows. Oh, not the truth, of course, or even
a facsimile of it. He knows better than to guess. But
he knows what the others do not.

He knows I have my own agenda regarding the selection
of Fox Mulder's new partner. He knows I always have
my own agenda.

Dana Katherine Scully, MD. She was precocious, as a
child. A tomboy, a daddy's girl, an overachiever.
When she was seven years old, she broke her arm in
the playground after school, and walked straight to
the nearest adult, free from tears, reciting her home
phone number. She fell in love once, as a young
woman, and nearly lost her head. She knew it was a
mistake she'd never make again. She loves her parents
and fears God, and she wants so very badly to
distinguish herself. To make Daddy proud. To make
them all proud. And she knows she can. She knows she
will.

Dana Scully, full of passion, full of determination
and life. Dana Scully-- I've watched her grow up into
exactly what I wanted her to be.

Just as I've watched Fox do the same.

How do you bring down a man like Fox Mulder, when
every setback only makes him more determined to
succeed? How do you make him vulnerable, when he has
long since stopped caring about his own life? How do
you distract him, when his vision has narrowed to one
quest, one truth, one goal?

You give him something to care about. You give him
something to love.

You give him someone to lose.

"Yes," Blevins says finally. "We are in agreement.
Our selection has been made."
 

END