(no subject)
Title: The Things That Never Can Come Back
Author: wendelah1
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Karma (Table One)
Classification: Missing scenes for "The End." Character study.
Spoilers: for "The End," of course.
Warnings: none
Summary: After seven years, Diana Fowley returns to Washington D.C. Frankly, she'd just as soon not be there, if she has to listen to Agent Scully argue endlessly with Mulder about whether or not Gibson Praise can read minds.
Author's Note: This story was written for my friend idella for the xf_santa gift exchange. The title is from a poem by Emily Dickinson.
The last place Diana expected she'd be this fine morning in May was sitting in an F.B.I. briefing room in Washington. Listening to this tedious presentation was making her nostalgic for doing routine background checks. The tailored suit, two-inch heels, and pantyhose that were considered de rigueur for the well-dressed female agent were not really to her liking anymore. She had left this city behind seven years ago for a different kind of life, not one necessarily of her choosing, but one she'd grown accustomed to. Whoever was pulling the strings behind this briefing, and had arranged her transfer, certainly had some clout. The spacious room was full of Special Agents, pulled from all over the Bureau. What was this kid's name? Spender? Jeffrey Spender. His monotone voice certainly wasn't an asset; his lecture style was as dull and humorless as any she'd had to listen to since graduate school.
She glanced surreptitiously around at the assembled agents, spotting a face or two she recognized from her previous life, and one known to her only from a photo in a personnel file. Diana had requested that file as soon as she was told of her transfer back to DC. Special Agent Dana Scully, a petite woman with improbably red hair and a serious demeanor, was sitting a row back and on the other side of the room, listening attentively to the speaker, like a good little agent should. Diana sighed and forced her attention back to Spender.
"Using a weapon registered to a U.S. intelligence agency, the shooter fired one kill shot at Anatole Klebanow before being captured without incident a short distance from the scene. . ." Spender suddenly stopped. He looked pained. Diana followed Spender's gaze to the back of the room. Damn it. She should have known Fox Mulder would be involved in this case. She should have expected it, anticipated it, and been ready for it.
"Please continue," Mulder requested. Though he had only arrived moments earlier, Diana could already picture Fox taking over the meeting. He and A.D. Skinner certainly looked cozy together. While Fox Mulder might not be the best-looking F.B.I. agent Diana had ever met, he was without a doubt the best-dressed. She knew approximately what Mulder spent on each of those hand-tailored suits of his. While his costly wardrobe wasn't his only vice, it was by far the most expensive. God. He looked good, too good. Was it possible that Fox was even better looking than he was seven years ago? Watching Mulder assert his theory and argue his points against Spender was certainly stimulating Diana's imagination, but then she always had been most attracted by Mulder's intellect.
"Let me get through this. If you have any questions, we can talk later," Spender said, attempting to wrest control back from Mulder.
"I don't have any questions, no. I just think you're wrong," Mulder retorted. That certainly got everyone's attention.
Interesting. Mulder's partner didn't seem that enthusiastic.
"Mulder … what are you doing?" Scully said quietly.
Diana listened and watched attentively now, waiting for an opening. It wasn't long in coming. "I think Agent Mulder is right. It looks like the boy sensed the shooter pre-cognitively, and if you rewind the tape you’ll see it," she asserted confidently.
Diana was gratified by Fox's response: he looked surprised, but pleasurably so. Diana guessed it had been awhile since anyone with any background in parapsychology had been there to support him. She'd rather not think about what his reaction might be to seeing her again after all this time.
"There’s no way. It’s impossible," Spender objected.
"Just rewind the tape so we can all see for ourselves," Skinner ordered.
Diana caught Mulder's eye and smiled. Hesitantly, he smiled back. Good. This assignment might not be so bad after all. She relaxed back into her seat.
"Agent Spender, you head to Fort Marlene, see what you can find out from the shooter. Agents Booker and Chandra, you begin with the eyewitnesses. Agents Scott, Duncan, Dennett and Garcia. You four start with his last known residence. . ." As A.D. Skinner continued to organize the investigation, Diana watched Agent Scully as she was standing next to Mulder. Diana was surprised at how close the pair seemed, their body language implying a level of intimacy that was beyond what one would expect of a law enforcement partnership, even one of five years duration.
"Agent Fowley." Skinner narrowed his eyes. "You've got some background in this area." Diana was feeling distracted, but she covered it up and nodded her assent. "Okay. You're with them," Skinner said, nodding at Mulder and Scully. Mulder briefly looked like a deer in the headlights at the news. Scully looked indifferent, although Diana doubted that was truly the case. Or maybe she was just projecting? Diana wasn't feeling indifferent toward Scully.
This was how Diana found herself sitting in the backseat of their sedan, as it headed toward Gaithersburg, attempting to give vague but acceptable answers to Agent Scully's rather direct questions.
"How long have you been with the Bureau, Agent Fowley?" was pretty standard introductory fare, but Scully was already beginning to connect the dots. She was just as smart as her credentials suggested she would be.
"Since '91. I took an assignment in Europe after the Wall came down, when the Director stepped up foreign terrorism concerns." That was a lie, but Diana had been telling it for a long time so it came out quite naturally. Instead, Diana had been ordered to break off her relationship with Fox and leave for Europe by her Syndicate handlers. Obviously, Agent Mulder had not informed Agent Scully of his prior relationship, working or otherwise, with Agent Fowley. Well, at least that confirmed Diana's suspicion that they were not lovers.
"And they brought you on this because of a terrorism angle?" Scully sounded skeptical.
Oh, come on, you can do better than that, Dana. "No. I, uh, I requested a reassignment. There were things at home that I decided I wanted to get back to," Diana lied smoothly, catching Mulder's eye in the rearview mirror. She was starting to have a little fun with this.
"1991. That's about when you started work on the X-Files," Scully said to Mulder. Diana waited for Mulder to give some kind of an explanation to Scully.
"More or less, yeah," Mulder conceded, looking back again at Diana. So that was how he was going to play it. Well, she would keep their little secret, at least for now. In any case, Diana didn't think it would take very long for Scully to ferret out the truth. Diana and Mulder's relationship was well-known in Bureau circles.
Ingot Murray Psychiatric Hospital seemed like a dismal place to Diana, hardly suitable for holding a child in protective custody. Luckily, Gibson Praise didn't seem to care.
"I don't mind it here. They get all the good T.V. shows. Where I live in the Philippines, all we get is "Baywatch." Gibson's attention was glued to the set, though he still had no problem getting into the heads of the three agents. He was quite a little troublemaker, too.
"I know what’s on your mind. I know you’re thinking about one of the girls you brought," said Gibson.
"Oh?" Mulder seemed nonplussed. Scully raised an eyebrow. Diana wasn't surprised.
"One of them’s thinking about you," Gibson added helpfully.
Now Scully really looked uncomfortable. This interested Diana.
"Which one?" Diana said.
Gibson looked at Mulder, considering. "He doesn't want me to say."
Mulder laughed nervously, then got up. "This kid is going to need around the clock protection."
So was it that Mulder didn't want to know that Scully was thinking about him. Or that he didn't want her to know that he knew?
Gibson Praise's abilities came as a surprise to Diana. It was true that she and Mulder had seen some remarkable things during the course of their investigations, but nothing like Gibson. He was the real deal. The important questions now remaining were who was trying to kill him and why. And of course, what part Diana was supposed to be playing in all of this. She assumed she would be contacted eventually. In the meantime, she needed to be careful about monitoring her thoughts around the kid. He was way too perceptive for his own good.
"You think the other girl doesn't know about you and Fox," he told her after Mulder had left the room, with Scully following after him. "She is way smarter than you think. And you're wrong: she doesn't care what Mulder thinks about you, or what you think of him. Dana doesn't care what anyone thinks," Gibson said in wonder.
Well, he was certainly right about that. Scully challenged Mulder every step of the way. It was a very curious dynamic to watch. Diana wondered if this was always how they worked together.
"We have seen cases, Mulder, of fakers and lucky guessers, but no one who has been able stand up to any kind of rigorous testing. No one who has gone so far as to claim they can zero in on the mind of one person in a crowd of thousands," Scully argued. Diana stepped out of Gibson's room into the corridor, pausing for a moment to observe.
"Maybe that's why they want him dead," Mulder countered.
"Who? Who are you talking about?" Scully said, clearly getting exasperated with Mulder's line of reasoning.
"I'm not the mind reader." Mulder shrugged. Maybe they were lovers, after all. He was awfully tolerant of Scully's constant arguing, especially since she was dead wrong.
"Say that what you're suggesting were even possible, who'd want to kill a kid whose abilities would offer you the ultimate advantage. . .I mean in business, in war, in anything?" Scully was incredulous.
Diana walked up to them. "Maybe somebody whose business is keeping secrets," she offered.
Mulder looked at Diana. "Well, let's test him. I think the kid will stand up. Let's run a brain scan and a psych evaluation on him." Turning to go, Mulder added, "You know what to do, Diana."
She did know, but still, it felt good to be acknowledged by him. In fact, it was altogether too easy for her to fall into their old patterns. Damn him. And damn her. There was something about watching the Mulder and Scully Show that just set Diana's teeth on edge.
"So, you two know each other?" Scully asked.
Diana stared at her. Diana didn't have to be clairvoyant to know that Agent Scully already knew the answer to that question. Diana and Fox had once known each other very, very well indeed. "It was a long time ago," Diana replied, and walked away. Bitch. Well, she had a psych evaluation to arrange. Naturally, she would need to contact Gibson's parents first, and would need a witness for the telephone consent. Lost in her thoughts, she was not prepared for who was waiting for her around the corner, skulking in an alcove.
"Jesus. You startled me." Diana recovered quickly. She glanced down the hallway to confirm that they were alone. "I was wondering when someone was going to contact me about this assignment. I was told you were dead," she added by way of explanation for her surprise.
"And yet, here I am, very much alive," the Smoking Man said lightly, puffing away on his omnipresent cigarette.
More's the pity. "So what am I supposed to be doing here?" Diana asked politely.
"Why your job, of course, Agent Fowley. You're a professional. Surely you know what to do without being told."
Diana was irritated. Will these games never stop? "Look, I just need to know what part I'm supposed to be playing here. Am I here to help Mulder? Or to hurt him? And what about his partner, Agent Scully?" Whatever the assignment was, Diana just wanted to get on with it. The truth was she just didn't want to be here. She wanted to get home, back to her life, such as it was. But there was no way she was going to let the Smoking Man know how much it had cost her to leave Mulder seven years ago, let alone how much she didn't want to be here, even now.
"Yes. Well, don't underestimate her, or underestimate his loyalty to her. Over the long term, naturally we wish to break up their partnership," he added, exhaling a foul-smelling cloud of grey smoke.
Naturally. "Why haven't you just reassigned her then?" The way you did me, you bastard, when it served your purposes to do so.
"Mulder has allies; on the Hill, within the Justice Department, even in the F.B.I., there are people who believe in his work. And, unfortunately, their solve rate together is nearly double what it was before Agent Scully was assigned to him." This Diana didn't know. Frankly, she was surprised. The Smoking Man looked at her, knowingly. "There is a more--permanent--solution in the planning stages, but that is not your concern. For now, your presence alone should be enough to keep them both off balance."
Diana refused to ask the question but the Smoking Bastard went ahead and answered it anyway. "Their relationship, while not strictly professional by any means, has always been admirably chaste."
Diana wasn't sure if she was supposed to feign relief or indifference.
"He might welcome your attentions in that area again. He certainly did before, you know. You're still a very attractive woman." The Smoking Man smiled reassuringly.
Diana just barely controlled her urge to strike the man. "That was a long time ago," she made clear for the second time that day. The problem was she wasn't feeling like it was all that long ago. "What about the case?" Diana said coolly. "What about Gibson?"
"Protect him, at all costs," the Smoking Man said, looking at her sharply. "He is a very valuable asset, despite the short-sightedness of a certain faction within the organization. As always, I will contact you when I need to," he added, lighting up another cigarette. Diana had never seen anyone who truly chain-smoked the way this man did, one after another, after another. The habit was probably going to kill him, but not soon enough for her taste.
"I can do that."
*****
Gibson's testing went far better than she could have imagined. One hundred per cent accuracy on everything from Zener cards to random numbers testing. He even told each participant what they'd had for breakfast that morning. Her unofficial project, that of keeping Mulder and Scully "off-balance," was working best on Agent Scully, who seemed to get a little more wound up every time Diana mentioned the past work she and Fox had done together. Diana imagined that even just seeing her and Fox together in the same room was starting to get to Scully.
Fox was more difficult to read and much harder to get close to than he had been, back when he was fresh out of the academy.
"I sense you could have used an ally, though--someone who thinks like you, with some background," Diana had ventured, trying to see what kind of reaction she could elicit. But no matter what Diana said about Dana Scully, the only emotions that Mulder showed to her were affection for his partner, and a clear respect for Scully's abilities, both as a scientist and an agent. Then just as Diana felt she had started to connect with Mulder, sharing her feelings, taking his hand, giving the little "I'm on your side" speech, it fizzled. All it took was a one phone call from Scully and Mulder was out the door.
Hearing one side of their conversation made it easy enough to fill in the rest.
"Mulder."
"Where are you?"
"Well, I’m at the psych facility with him right now. Why don’t you come by and show me?"
"Okay, what is it?"
"What was that about?" Diana said tightly after Mulder had hung up with Scully.
"Scully. She wants me to meet her back at the office, there's something she wants to show me about Gibson," Mulder said, grabbing his jacket.
****
After that meeting, there was another, more ominous meeting, this time in Skinner's conference room. It was Mulder's party now. Though ostensibly Skinner was still in charge, it was clear to anyone who was paying attention who was calling the shots. Mulder was unstoppable. And Diana knew him well enough to realize that in this mood, nothing Diana or anyone else said would make any difference. His plan was fatally flawed. He wanted to go to the Attorney General to ask for immunity for the shooter. For what reason? Not even evidence of who was behind the Russian's murder seemed to be his goal. They wanted to give the shooter immunity for verifying the "quantifiable scientific proof of everything Agent Mulder and I have investigated over the past five years." How the shooter could possibly do that was what Diana was struggling to understand. Scully already had Gibson. There was her proof. What could the shooter say that would add anything to her investigation? The man was a murderer under the law, and as such, he should be prosecuted, no matter what sort of mumbo-jumbo he was willing to feed Mulder in exchange for immunity. Plus, the fool was dumb enough to get caught, on the premises, minutes after doing the shooting. Hell, he should be shot for that kind of stupidity. As much as she hated to admit it, on this issue, Spender was right. This was bullshit.
As soon as they were sent outside of Skinner's office, Diana tried to take Scully aside. "I need to talk with you. I think you are making a huge mistake here. You are risking everything and I don't think you even know what's at stake. Or maybe you don't really care. Maybe getting the X-Files shut down is a good excuse for you to get back on the career fast track you fell off of when you were assigned to work with Mulder."
But Scully was unperturbed by Diana's accusation. "If that's all you have to say to me, save it. You don't know anything important about me or my career, despite having accessed my personnel file and Mulder's. Yes, I know about that. So will Mulder after all of this is over." Scully then crossed the room to wait for Mulder and Skinner to emerge from the conference room.
Diana was surprised by Scully's calm demeanor and at her brass. This woman knew what she wanted. Diana could respect that, even admire her for it. She was even more surprised by the scene she accidentally witnessed in the hallway, at the end of the meeting. Diana had stayed behind, hoping to catch Mulder before heading to her apartment. She wanted to try to get some sleep before her next shift at the hospital, where they were taking turns watching Gibson.
"Scully. I just need to thank you, for supporting me in front of Skinner and the rest of the task force. I know you must still have reservations. . ." Mulder's voice sounded uncertain, pleading even. Scully, though, sounded confident.
"Mulder, whatever you might think I believe or want to believe, I care about the same things that you do. I want the truth. But I also need to understand it, so that I can make sense of it. I really do believe Gibson Praise is going to be the turning point for us." Then she stepped closer, reached out, and put her hand on Mulder's arm. He then took her hand and raised it toward his lips. At first, Diana thought he had actually kissed Scully's fingertips but that was totally in her head, she was sure of that now. And that Cigarette-Smoking Bastard was wrong about the nature of their relationship, too. They were so doing it.
Unfortunately, the rest of her memories of that time were blurred and fragmented. Diana remembered going to the hospital to relieve Scully. The jet-lag must have finally caught up with her, as she fell asleep, at least momentarily. She remembered her panic on awakening, at not seeing Gibson. To her shame, she had not reacted in a professional manner when she spotted him at the window, peering out. The last thing Diana recalled clearly was Gibson telling her that she was the one they were shooting at, and her shock and disbelief. She didn't recall the actual shooting, or anything much that happened in between that and waking up in the hospital in horrible pain.
Either it was pitch black or she was having trouble seeing.
There was a tall man with an unusually large head staring at her out of the darkness.
"Are you sure you want me to save her? Why is that so important to you?" she heard the man they referred to as the Alien Bounty Hunter say.
"Of course, I'm certain." Another voice, this one she thought she recognized. "I wouldn't have let her get shot if I didn't know you could bring her back. She is useful to us, useful to me. Do it."
She felt the alien's hands on her chest, the pain already receding, her blood vessels warming again, her muscle fibers reforming, snapping back into their places, her skin becoming smooth and unblemished. Such a strange sensation, like she imagined it would feel if time speeded up for just a few seconds.
"Hello, Diana. Welcome back." The Smoking Man. Now Diana finally understood what her assignment really was, why she had been brought back to Washington. She was there to take the fall, to do whatever the Syndicate deemed necessary to further their cause, including being shot just for show, and being brought back from the brink of death. She wondered if the dying part was part of the plan or if it had just gotten away from them.
The darkness gradually faded away, just like the pain had. As it did, she opened up her eyes to the light. It felt good. She felt warm again. It felt as though she were floating, almost like she'd been given a dose of narcotic. There was a memory of Fox taking her hand briefly while the paramedics were working on her; at least, she hoped it was a true memory. She loved Mulder's hands, with their long, beautifully tapered fingers. She had loved feeling them caress her face, stroking her breasts. Holding her after they had made love. A person could live for years on a memory like that.
Again, she heard Fox's voice, felt his hand holding her hand. "I've done okay without you, Diana."
Diana wondered if she could honestly say the same was true for her.
Putting aside her doubts about what had happened, and her fears of what the future might hold, Diana allowed herself to drift back into the darkness. Just this one time, she let herself imagine what it would be like to have Fox there at her bedside, instead of being left alone in the dark. She imagined she felt safe. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be loved again.
The Things that never can come back, are several --
Childhood -- some forms of Hope -- the Dead --
Though Joys -- like Men -- may sometimes make a Journey --
And still abide --
We do not mourn for Traveler, or Sailor,
Their Routes are fair --
But think enlarged of all that they will tell us
Returning here --
"Here!" There are typic "Heres" --
Foretold Locations --
The Spirit does not stand --
Himself -- at whatsoever Fathom
His Native Land --
~Emily Dickinson
Author: wendelah1
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Karma (Table One)
Classification: Missing scenes for "The End." Character study.
Spoilers: for "The End," of course.
Warnings: none
Summary: After seven years, Diana Fowley returns to Washington D.C. Frankly, she'd just as soon not be there, if she has to listen to Agent Scully argue endlessly with Mulder about whether or not Gibson Praise can read minds.
Author's Note: This story was written for my friend idella for the xf_santa gift exchange. The title is from a poem by Emily Dickinson.
The last place Diana expected she'd be this fine morning in May was sitting in an F.B.I. briefing room in Washington. Listening to this tedious presentation was making her nostalgic for doing routine background checks. The tailored suit, two-inch heels, and pantyhose that were considered de rigueur for the well-dressed female agent were not really to her liking anymore. She had left this city behind seven years ago for a different kind of life, not one necessarily of her choosing, but one she'd grown accustomed to. Whoever was pulling the strings behind this briefing, and had arranged her transfer, certainly had some clout. The spacious room was full of Special Agents, pulled from all over the Bureau. What was this kid's name? Spender? Jeffrey Spender. His monotone voice certainly wasn't an asset; his lecture style was as dull and humorless as any she'd had to listen to since graduate school.
She glanced surreptitiously around at the assembled agents, spotting a face or two she recognized from her previous life, and one known to her only from a photo in a personnel file. Diana had requested that file as soon as she was told of her transfer back to DC. Special Agent Dana Scully, a petite woman with improbably red hair and a serious demeanor, was sitting a row back and on the other side of the room, listening attentively to the speaker, like a good little agent should. Diana sighed and forced her attention back to Spender.
"Using a weapon registered to a U.S. intelligence agency, the shooter fired one kill shot at Anatole Klebanow before being captured without incident a short distance from the scene. . ." Spender suddenly stopped. He looked pained. Diana followed Spender's gaze to the back of the room. Damn it. She should have known Fox Mulder would be involved in this case. She should have expected it, anticipated it, and been ready for it.
"Please continue," Mulder requested. Though he had only arrived moments earlier, Diana could already picture Fox taking over the meeting. He and A.D. Skinner certainly looked cozy together. While Fox Mulder might not be the best-looking F.B.I. agent Diana had ever met, he was without a doubt the best-dressed. She knew approximately what Mulder spent on each of those hand-tailored suits of his. While his costly wardrobe wasn't his only vice, it was by far the most expensive. God. He looked good, too good. Was it possible that Fox was even better looking than he was seven years ago? Watching Mulder assert his theory and argue his points against Spender was certainly stimulating Diana's imagination, but then she always had been most attracted by Mulder's intellect.
"Let me get through this. If you have any questions, we can talk later," Spender said, attempting to wrest control back from Mulder.
"I don't have any questions, no. I just think you're wrong," Mulder retorted. That certainly got everyone's attention.
Interesting. Mulder's partner didn't seem that enthusiastic.
"Mulder … what are you doing?" Scully said quietly.
Diana listened and watched attentively now, waiting for an opening. It wasn't long in coming. "I think Agent Mulder is right. It looks like the boy sensed the shooter pre-cognitively, and if you rewind the tape you’ll see it," she asserted confidently.
Diana was gratified by Fox's response: he looked surprised, but pleasurably so. Diana guessed it had been awhile since anyone with any background in parapsychology had been there to support him. She'd rather not think about what his reaction might be to seeing her again after all this time.
"There’s no way. It’s impossible," Spender objected.
"Just rewind the tape so we can all see for ourselves," Skinner ordered.
Diana caught Mulder's eye and smiled. Hesitantly, he smiled back. Good. This assignment might not be so bad after all. She relaxed back into her seat.
"Agent Spender, you head to Fort Marlene, see what you can find out from the shooter. Agents Booker and Chandra, you begin with the eyewitnesses. Agents Scott, Duncan, Dennett and Garcia. You four start with his last known residence. . ." As A.D. Skinner continued to organize the investigation, Diana watched Agent Scully as she was standing next to Mulder. Diana was surprised at how close the pair seemed, their body language implying a level of intimacy that was beyond what one would expect of a law enforcement partnership, even one of five years duration.
"Agent Fowley." Skinner narrowed his eyes. "You've got some background in this area." Diana was feeling distracted, but she covered it up and nodded her assent. "Okay. You're with them," Skinner said, nodding at Mulder and Scully. Mulder briefly looked like a deer in the headlights at the news. Scully looked indifferent, although Diana doubted that was truly the case. Or maybe she was just projecting? Diana wasn't feeling indifferent toward Scully.
This was how Diana found herself sitting in the backseat of their sedan, as it headed toward Gaithersburg, attempting to give vague but acceptable answers to Agent Scully's rather direct questions.
"How long have you been with the Bureau, Agent Fowley?" was pretty standard introductory fare, but Scully was already beginning to connect the dots. She was just as smart as her credentials suggested she would be.
"Since '91. I took an assignment in Europe after the Wall came down, when the Director stepped up foreign terrorism concerns." That was a lie, but Diana had been telling it for a long time so it came out quite naturally. Instead, Diana had been ordered to break off her relationship with Fox and leave for Europe by her Syndicate handlers. Obviously, Agent Mulder had not informed Agent Scully of his prior relationship, working or otherwise, with Agent Fowley. Well, at least that confirmed Diana's suspicion that they were not lovers.
"And they brought you on this because of a terrorism angle?" Scully sounded skeptical.
Oh, come on, you can do better than that, Dana. "No. I, uh, I requested a reassignment. There were things at home that I decided I wanted to get back to," Diana lied smoothly, catching Mulder's eye in the rearview mirror. She was starting to have a little fun with this.
"1991. That's about when you started work on the X-Files," Scully said to Mulder. Diana waited for Mulder to give some kind of an explanation to Scully.
"More or less, yeah," Mulder conceded, looking back again at Diana. So that was how he was going to play it. Well, she would keep their little secret, at least for now. In any case, Diana didn't think it would take very long for Scully to ferret out the truth. Diana and Mulder's relationship was well-known in Bureau circles.
Ingot Murray Psychiatric Hospital seemed like a dismal place to Diana, hardly suitable for holding a child in protective custody. Luckily, Gibson Praise didn't seem to care.
"I don't mind it here. They get all the good T.V. shows. Where I live in the Philippines, all we get is "Baywatch." Gibson's attention was glued to the set, though he still had no problem getting into the heads of the three agents. He was quite a little troublemaker, too.
"I know what’s on your mind. I know you’re thinking about one of the girls you brought," said Gibson.
"Oh?" Mulder seemed nonplussed. Scully raised an eyebrow. Diana wasn't surprised.
"One of them’s thinking about you," Gibson added helpfully.
Now Scully really looked uncomfortable. This interested Diana.
"Which one?" Diana said.
Gibson looked at Mulder, considering. "He doesn't want me to say."
Mulder laughed nervously, then got up. "This kid is going to need around the clock protection."
So was it that Mulder didn't want to know that Scully was thinking about him. Or that he didn't want her to know that he knew?
Gibson Praise's abilities came as a surprise to Diana. It was true that she and Mulder had seen some remarkable things during the course of their investigations, but nothing like Gibson. He was the real deal. The important questions now remaining were who was trying to kill him and why. And of course, what part Diana was supposed to be playing in all of this. She assumed she would be contacted eventually. In the meantime, she needed to be careful about monitoring her thoughts around the kid. He was way too perceptive for his own good.
"You think the other girl doesn't know about you and Fox," he told her after Mulder had left the room, with Scully following after him. "She is way smarter than you think. And you're wrong: she doesn't care what Mulder thinks about you, or what you think of him. Dana doesn't care what anyone thinks," Gibson said in wonder.
Well, he was certainly right about that. Scully challenged Mulder every step of the way. It was a very curious dynamic to watch. Diana wondered if this was always how they worked together.
"We have seen cases, Mulder, of fakers and lucky guessers, but no one who has been able stand up to any kind of rigorous testing. No one who has gone so far as to claim they can zero in on the mind of one person in a crowd of thousands," Scully argued. Diana stepped out of Gibson's room into the corridor, pausing for a moment to observe.
"Maybe that's why they want him dead," Mulder countered.
"Who? Who are you talking about?" Scully said, clearly getting exasperated with Mulder's line of reasoning.
"I'm not the mind reader." Mulder shrugged. Maybe they were lovers, after all. He was awfully tolerant of Scully's constant arguing, especially since she was dead wrong.
"Say that what you're suggesting were even possible, who'd want to kill a kid whose abilities would offer you the ultimate advantage. . .I mean in business, in war, in anything?" Scully was incredulous.
Diana walked up to them. "Maybe somebody whose business is keeping secrets," she offered.
Mulder looked at Diana. "Well, let's test him. I think the kid will stand up. Let's run a brain scan and a psych evaluation on him." Turning to go, Mulder added, "You know what to do, Diana."
She did know, but still, it felt good to be acknowledged by him. In fact, it was altogether too easy for her to fall into their old patterns. Damn him. And damn her. There was something about watching the Mulder and Scully Show that just set Diana's teeth on edge.
"So, you two know each other?" Scully asked.
Diana stared at her. Diana didn't have to be clairvoyant to know that Agent Scully already knew the answer to that question. Diana and Fox had once known each other very, very well indeed. "It was a long time ago," Diana replied, and walked away. Bitch. Well, she had a psych evaluation to arrange. Naturally, she would need to contact Gibson's parents first, and would need a witness for the telephone consent. Lost in her thoughts, she was not prepared for who was waiting for her around the corner, skulking in an alcove.
"Jesus. You startled me." Diana recovered quickly. She glanced down the hallway to confirm that they were alone. "I was wondering when someone was going to contact me about this assignment. I was told you were dead," she added by way of explanation for her surprise.
"And yet, here I am, very much alive," the Smoking Man said lightly, puffing away on his omnipresent cigarette.
More's the pity. "So what am I supposed to be doing here?" Diana asked politely.
"Why your job, of course, Agent Fowley. You're a professional. Surely you know what to do without being told."
Diana was irritated. Will these games never stop? "Look, I just need to know what part I'm supposed to be playing here. Am I here to help Mulder? Or to hurt him? And what about his partner, Agent Scully?" Whatever the assignment was, Diana just wanted to get on with it. The truth was she just didn't want to be here. She wanted to get home, back to her life, such as it was. But there was no way she was going to let the Smoking Man know how much it had cost her to leave Mulder seven years ago, let alone how much she didn't want to be here, even now.
"Yes. Well, don't underestimate her, or underestimate his loyalty to her. Over the long term, naturally we wish to break up their partnership," he added, exhaling a foul-smelling cloud of grey smoke.
Naturally. "Why haven't you just reassigned her then?" The way you did me, you bastard, when it served your purposes to do so.
"Mulder has allies; on the Hill, within the Justice Department, even in the F.B.I., there are people who believe in his work. And, unfortunately, their solve rate together is nearly double what it was before Agent Scully was assigned to him." This Diana didn't know. Frankly, she was surprised. The Smoking Man looked at her, knowingly. "There is a more--permanent--solution in the planning stages, but that is not your concern. For now, your presence alone should be enough to keep them both off balance."
Diana refused to ask the question but the Smoking Bastard went ahead and answered it anyway. "Their relationship, while not strictly professional by any means, has always been admirably chaste."
Diana wasn't sure if she was supposed to feign relief or indifference.
"He might welcome your attentions in that area again. He certainly did before, you know. You're still a very attractive woman." The Smoking Man smiled reassuringly.
Diana just barely controlled her urge to strike the man. "That was a long time ago," she made clear for the second time that day. The problem was she wasn't feeling like it was all that long ago. "What about the case?" Diana said coolly. "What about Gibson?"
"Protect him, at all costs," the Smoking Man said, looking at her sharply. "He is a very valuable asset, despite the short-sightedness of a certain faction within the organization. As always, I will contact you when I need to," he added, lighting up another cigarette. Diana had never seen anyone who truly chain-smoked the way this man did, one after another, after another. The habit was probably going to kill him, but not soon enough for her taste.
"I can do that."
*****
Gibson's testing went far better than she could have imagined. One hundred per cent accuracy on everything from Zener cards to random numbers testing. He even told each participant what they'd had for breakfast that morning. Her unofficial project, that of keeping Mulder and Scully "off-balance," was working best on Agent Scully, who seemed to get a little more wound up every time Diana mentioned the past work she and Fox had done together. Diana imagined that even just seeing her and Fox together in the same room was starting to get to Scully.
Fox was more difficult to read and much harder to get close to than he had been, back when he was fresh out of the academy.
"I sense you could have used an ally, though--someone who thinks like you, with some background," Diana had ventured, trying to see what kind of reaction she could elicit. But no matter what Diana said about Dana Scully, the only emotions that Mulder showed to her were affection for his partner, and a clear respect for Scully's abilities, both as a scientist and an agent. Then just as Diana felt she had started to connect with Mulder, sharing her feelings, taking his hand, giving the little "I'm on your side" speech, it fizzled. All it took was a one phone call from Scully and Mulder was out the door.
Hearing one side of their conversation made it easy enough to fill in the rest.
"Mulder."
"Where are you?"
"Well, I’m at the psych facility with him right now. Why don’t you come by and show me?"
"Okay, what is it?"
"What was that about?" Diana said tightly after Mulder had hung up with Scully.
"Scully. She wants me to meet her back at the office, there's something she wants to show me about Gibson," Mulder said, grabbing his jacket.
****
After that meeting, there was another, more ominous meeting, this time in Skinner's conference room. It was Mulder's party now. Though ostensibly Skinner was still in charge, it was clear to anyone who was paying attention who was calling the shots. Mulder was unstoppable. And Diana knew him well enough to realize that in this mood, nothing Diana or anyone else said would make any difference. His plan was fatally flawed. He wanted to go to the Attorney General to ask for immunity for the shooter. For what reason? Not even evidence of who was behind the Russian's murder seemed to be his goal. They wanted to give the shooter immunity for verifying the "quantifiable scientific proof of everything Agent Mulder and I have investigated over the past five years." How the shooter could possibly do that was what Diana was struggling to understand. Scully already had Gibson. There was her proof. What could the shooter say that would add anything to her investigation? The man was a murderer under the law, and as such, he should be prosecuted, no matter what sort of mumbo-jumbo he was willing to feed Mulder in exchange for immunity. Plus, the fool was dumb enough to get caught, on the premises, minutes after doing the shooting. Hell, he should be shot for that kind of stupidity. As much as she hated to admit it, on this issue, Spender was right. This was bullshit.
As soon as they were sent outside of Skinner's office, Diana tried to take Scully aside. "I need to talk with you. I think you are making a huge mistake here. You are risking everything and I don't think you even know what's at stake. Or maybe you don't really care. Maybe getting the X-Files shut down is a good excuse for you to get back on the career fast track you fell off of when you were assigned to work with Mulder."
But Scully was unperturbed by Diana's accusation. "If that's all you have to say to me, save it. You don't know anything important about me or my career, despite having accessed my personnel file and Mulder's. Yes, I know about that. So will Mulder after all of this is over." Scully then crossed the room to wait for Mulder and Skinner to emerge from the conference room.
Diana was surprised by Scully's calm demeanor and at her brass. This woman knew what she wanted. Diana could respect that, even admire her for it. She was even more surprised by the scene she accidentally witnessed in the hallway, at the end of the meeting. Diana had stayed behind, hoping to catch Mulder before heading to her apartment. She wanted to try to get some sleep before her next shift at the hospital, where they were taking turns watching Gibson.
"Scully. I just need to thank you, for supporting me in front of Skinner and the rest of the task force. I know you must still have reservations. . ." Mulder's voice sounded uncertain, pleading even. Scully, though, sounded confident.
"Mulder, whatever you might think I believe or want to believe, I care about the same things that you do. I want the truth. But I also need to understand it, so that I can make sense of it. I really do believe Gibson Praise is going to be the turning point for us." Then she stepped closer, reached out, and put her hand on Mulder's arm. He then took her hand and raised it toward his lips. At first, Diana thought he had actually kissed Scully's fingertips but that was totally in her head, she was sure of that now. And that Cigarette-Smoking Bastard was wrong about the nature of their relationship, too. They were so doing it.
Unfortunately, the rest of her memories of that time were blurred and fragmented. Diana remembered going to the hospital to relieve Scully. The jet-lag must have finally caught up with her, as she fell asleep, at least momentarily. She remembered her panic on awakening, at not seeing Gibson. To her shame, she had not reacted in a professional manner when she spotted him at the window, peering out. The last thing Diana recalled clearly was Gibson telling her that she was the one they were shooting at, and her shock and disbelief. She didn't recall the actual shooting, or anything much that happened in between that and waking up in the hospital in horrible pain.
Either it was pitch black or she was having trouble seeing.
There was a tall man with an unusually large head staring at her out of the darkness.
"Are you sure you want me to save her? Why is that so important to you?" she heard the man they referred to as the Alien Bounty Hunter say.
"Of course, I'm certain." Another voice, this one she thought she recognized. "I wouldn't have let her get shot if I didn't know you could bring her back. She is useful to us, useful to me. Do it."
She felt the alien's hands on her chest, the pain already receding, her blood vessels warming again, her muscle fibers reforming, snapping back into their places, her skin becoming smooth and unblemished. Such a strange sensation, like she imagined it would feel if time speeded up for just a few seconds.
"Hello, Diana. Welcome back." The Smoking Man. Now Diana finally understood what her assignment really was, why she had been brought back to Washington. She was there to take the fall, to do whatever the Syndicate deemed necessary to further their cause, including being shot just for show, and being brought back from the brink of death. She wondered if the dying part was part of the plan or if it had just gotten away from them.
The darkness gradually faded away, just like the pain had. As it did, she opened up her eyes to the light. It felt good. She felt warm again. It felt as though she were floating, almost like she'd been given a dose of narcotic. There was a memory of Fox taking her hand briefly while the paramedics were working on her; at least, she hoped it was a true memory. She loved Mulder's hands, with their long, beautifully tapered fingers. She had loved feeling them caress her face, stroking her breasts. Holding her after they had made love. A person could live for years on a memory like that.
Again, she heard Fox's voice, felt his hand holding her hand. "I've done okay without you, Diana."
Diana wondered if she could honestly say the same was true for her.
Putting aside her doubts about what had happened, and her fears of what the future might hold, Diana allowed herself to drift back into the darkness. Just this one time, she let herself imagine what it would be like to have Fox there at her bedside, instead of being left alone in the dark. She imagined she felt safe. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be loved again.
The Things that never can come back, are several --
Childhood -- some forms of Hope -- the Dead --
Though Joys -- like Men -- may sometimes make a Journey --
And still abide --
We do not mourn for Traveler, or Sailor,
Their Routes are fair --
But think enlarged of all that they will tell us
Returning here --
"Here!" There are typic "Heres" --
Foretold Locations --
The Spirit does not stand --
Himself -- at whatsoever Fathom
His Native Land --
~Emily Dickinson