TITLE: Value & Honor AUTHOR: Forte E-MAIL ADDRESS: Forte1354@aol.com or bjm1352@aol.com RATING: strong R CATEGORY: XA SPOILERS: All over the place, through The Beginning (US Season 6), including Fight the Future. Author's Notes includes a spoiler for Alpha. KEYWORDS: UST, hint of MSR, MulderAngst, ScullyAngst, mythology. Secondary character death. SUMMARY: When Mulder and Scully face past and present evils, "value" and "honor" are proven to be both nouns and verbs. TIMEFRAME: Early in US Season 6, after The Beginning but before Triangle. ARCHIVE: Gossamer/Ephemeral/Xemplary OK; anywhere else please ask first. DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, et al. don't belong to me. They belong to His Majesty Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. (And as far as I'm concerned they belong to David and Gillian, too.) The only thing that belongs to me is the bill I get from AOL each month. I'm making no money off of this and intend no infringement. I write with great love, reverence, and respect for all concerned. FEEDBACK: Yes please -- it's better than chocolate! E-mail me at Forte1354@aol.com or bjm1352@aol.com. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: If this fic is any good at all, it's because of Jintian, beta reader extraordinaire, who taught me why adverbs are (often) evil . She also told me what things worked and what things didn't, and encouraged me to keep plugging along. All writers should be as blessed as I am. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! Thanks also to Risheloo, for telling me which ep Scully references toward the end of this story. As promised, I've immortalized you within this fic to thank you for saving my sanity. And last but certainly not least, Virtual margaritas, Sno Caps, and whatever else their little hearts desire to the Primal Screamers, whose Season Six Wish Lists inspired this fic. AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a Work In Progress. Although I don't know how many chapters I will ultimately have, I expect the total length of this story to be around 250K. (Additional Author's Notes at end.) ******************************************************************** Value & Honor by Forte ******************************************************************** "NO!" Mulder fired. But it was too late. A thousand silent, instantaneous prayers, then the words no law enforcement officer ever wants to speak or to hear: "AGENT DOWN!" ******************************************************************** 60 hours earlier J. Edgar Hoover Building Washington, DC Friday, 8:20 a.m. With eyes shut and elbows on her desk in the bullpen, Scully massaged the inside edges of her eyebrows with her thumbs and sighed -- but only loud enough for Mulder to hear. They had arrested the suspect the previous morning, finally returning home as dusk and exhaustion set in. Scully had cried as she lay in bed, a release she rarely allowed herself but for this case could not deny needing. All she had been able to see when she had closed her eyes was the wiry man, straggly black hair obscuring his face, hunched over a strangled 4-year-old. In all, five pre-schoolers -- three girls, two boys -- had been brutally murdered by the psychotic in Providence, Rhode Island. And his reason? "Because I felt like it." Accompanied by a shrug. As though they had asked why he'd worn a blue shirt that day. Even more than her partner, Scully grieved for the senseless waste of innocent life. Those children never should have had to suffer and die. Scully sat up and rolled her neck slowly. She tried to unravel the knots in her shoulders, borne of the anger twisting her stomach, but without success. Giving up, she opened her eyes, put her wire-rimmed glasses back on, and turned back to her PC. Her nails clicked over the keyboard as she continued to summarize her autopsy notes for their report to AD Kersh. Over the top of her lenses, she could see Mulder standing and watching her with concern. "Headache already, Scully? It's not even 9 a.m. yet." She stopped typing and glanced around. The other agents in the bullpen seemed engrossed in their own tasks. She turned her gaze to her partner. "Not =already=, Mulder. =Still=. The same one I went to bed with last night." Given the case they had just cracked, not even Mulder was in the mood to follow up on that straight line. Scully sighed again. "You know, Mulder, I would happily spend the rest of my life making those damn fertilizer calls if it would guarantee that there would never be anyone else like Jack Morse walking the face of the Earth." Mulder nodded, looking uncomfortable. "Look Scully... I didn't get a chance to say anything while..." He paused. he berated himself. Mulder cleared his throat and tried again, his voice low. "I know this case must have been..." he struggled for the right words, "difficult for you...." Scully's eyes widened for a moment, horrified at her partner's choice of timing -- -- yet grateful for his acknowledgment. Finally, she let them both off the hook by looking back down at her keyboard and nodding. It was the closest she could come to admitting to her partner just how much the Morse case had bothered her. Her head throbbed. "Thank God Kersh let us go out there," Scully said finally, "or that bastard would be looking for his next victim right now." Mulder nodded again, half from agreement and half from relief at the change of subject. "Well, you certainly get the gold star for putting two and two together, Scully. You figured out from the autopsy results where the son of a bitch was going to stalk his next victim." Scully looked up at him again. "I wouldn't have had the first 'two' without your profile, Mulder." She turned that thought around in her mind. Yes, they had worked especially well together on this case. Her science and his intuition had meshed perfectly, so unlike many of their other cases where, although successful, they found themselves at odds with each other. she wondered, then dismissed her concern as a side effect of fatigue and her headache. It was their way, and it worked. Mulder's sigh interrupted her thoughts. "Well, I guess it's good to know I still have some value, at least when every other profiler in the Bureau is tied up with other cases." Scully shook her head, her gaze intense. "You never lost your value, Mulder. Other people lost the ability to see it." Mulder blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly at the unexpected compliment. He leaned over to within a few inches of her, and brushed the edge of her shoulder with his fingertips. "Thanks, Scully. It's comforting to know that there will always be at least =one= person in the Fox Mulder fan club." He stood up again, still smiling. His comment pulled a wry smile from her lips. "Don't press your luck, Mulder." She pushed her chair back and stood up. "I'm going to get some coffee. You want some?" "Yeah, thanks." He gestured toward his own desk. "I'm gonna try to get my shit together for this report before we see Kersh at nine." "Okay." Scully touched Mulder's arm briefly as she slid past him in the narrow space between desks, and then headed down the hall towards the floor's kitchen area. ******************************************************************** Scully's heels clicked on the tile floor of the kitchenette. "Figures," she grumbled at the three coffee pots, each holding one-half inch of dregs. "If I ever get my hands on the people who take the last of the coffee without starting a new pot..." Scully contemplated various forms of retribution as she emptied and rinsed one of the carafes, dumped the old coffee grinds, and started a fresh batch of coffee. The throbbing in her head became stronger. she told herself as the fresh coffee started to drip through into the carafe. She took a deep breath through her nose, and blew it out slowly through pursed lips. Although Scully tried to focus on ideas for channeling her anger, her mind kept returning to more unsettling thoughts. <... the five children that already died...> <... the carnage...> <... little children had to suffer...> "Suffer the little children that come unto me," Scully murmured. As the coffee drip slowed to a trickle, she picked up a Styrofoam cup and turned it around in her hands absently. She thought of Emily, for only the thousandth time since she and Mulder had started on the case a week before. "A sick bastard," she told the cup. **Throb** Scully was startled out of her thoughts by a cheerful voice that came from behind her. "Good morning, Agent Scully." Scully turned. <=Just= what I need right now.> She suppressed a scowl, and instead nodded a non-committal greeting. "Agent Fowley." "I understand that congratulations are in order, Agent Scully," Diana Fowley said, smiling. The dark-haired woman grabbed a cup and reached around Scully for the pot of fresh coffee, moving too far into her personal space for Scully's liking. Scully eyed her, one eyebrow up. Fowley poured herself a cup of the dark brew, then set the carafe down on the burner again. "How so, Agent Fowley?" Scully asked, with a calm she didn't feel. "Your autopsy work resulted in the arrest of a child killer," Fowley replied. "In remarkably short time, in fact. Your skill and dedication are commendable." "It was a joint effort between my partner and me," Scully said evenly, forcing herself to not place emphasis on =my partner=. "As it always is." **Throb** "And how is Fox?" Fowley asked. "I never see him anymore, now that you two are on this floor." "He's fine." **Throb** "You know," Fowley said, in a conspiratorial tone, "I'm aware that Fox must not be particularly thrilled in your... current assignment. I hope he's not taking his frustrations out on you. He can be very =child=ish." She drew out the 'i' sound in 'child' for emphasis. "I hadn't noticed that tendency in him," Scully lied. "I've always found him to be the consummate professional." **Throb** Realizing that she was still holding an empty cup, Scully filled it, then started to add powdered creamer as Fowley spoke again. "I know you haven't asked for my advice, Agent Scully, but if he =does= start acting up, I would suggest that you not..." She paused, then finished the sentence with a hint of a smirk. "=Baby= him." Scully blinked hard, reached for a plastic spoon from the box on the counter, and stirred her coffee aggressively. That was her second reference to... Could Fowley possibly be making jokes about the Morse case? Could she be so insensitive? "I'm sure he was glad to have that case to work on, to be able to stop that madman," Fowley continued. "Fox always had a soft spot for children. He'll be a fine father for some woman's children someday." Scully heard herself say, "I'm sure he will." **Throb** Scully's mind tried to sort out the bizarre conversation. She turned that idea around in her head and dismissed it. With Mulder and her in the bullpen making fertilizer calls, she was already as much of an outcast in the Bureau as she could be. That was a more plausible explanation. But it didn't explain the "why". "Well," Fowley said, glancing at her watch, "I'd better get going. Agent Spender and I have a meeting with AD Skinner in a few minutes. Shall I tell him you send your regards? I'm sure he misses working with you and Fox." She smiled pleasantly. Scully fought the urge to clench her teeth, refusing to give Fowley any indication that her words were causing anger. Instead, she grabbed another cup, this one for Mulder. "Yes, thank you," she said evenly, pretending to give the coffee her full attention as she filled the second cup. Fowley paused as she turned to walk away, as though she had made a decision about something. She leaned in towards Scully, and spoke in a stage whisper. "It's a good thing you're married to your work, Agent Scully. Who would want a woman in your situation?" At first Scully drew a blank at the other agent's remark. Then realization struck her like a physical blow. A chill ran down her spine. Fowley was ridiculing her inability to have children. For a long moment Scully stood shell-shocked, unable to process what had just transpired or think of any kind of coherent response. Fowley straightened again and fixed her with a contemptuous glare. Then the chill in Scully turned into a burn; she contemplated "accidentally" slipping and dousing Fowley with the pot of coffee she held. And for that split second it was a =damn= attractive idea. But she knew that a violent reaction was exactly what the dark-haired agent was hoping for, had goaded her towards, and Scully refused to give Fowley what she wanted. Instead, she returned the pot to its burner and then leaned toward Fowley's ear, to ensure that no one would overhear her words. Unlike Fowley's, her voice was low. "You're not worth it. And this conversation is over." Without taking her narrowed eyes off of Diana Fowley's, Scully picked up the two cups she had prepared and backed away. Finally satisfied that she had moved far enough away from the other woman -- Scully wondered -- she turned on her heel to head back to her desk. And came face to face with Mulder. ******************************************************************** - end chapter 1 - ******************************************************************** Feedback is cherished at Forte1354@aol.com or bjm1352@aol.com.