Chapter Text
Scully was having a surprisingly pleasant morning and entering the Hoover Building more smiley than usual. Despite their initial skepticism towards each other, over the course of their first year working together, they had become more and more of an inseparable unit of partners, who could count on each other. Especially recently, things had been going really well between her and Mulder, and she had a feeling that they were slowly, very slowly, moving towards being more than just professional partners. The fact that she was wearing a brand-new pair of high heels, one that was exceptionally comfortable and almost made her feel like she was walking on air or gliding across the floor, also significantly boosted her mood. With a spring in her step and a fresh cup of coffee in her hand, she entered the basement corridor, smiling to herself, as she attempted the impossible task of figuring out what case Mulder might have ready for them this time.
She was surprised to see the office door ajar with light streaming into the hallway. She raised an eyebrow, trying to identify the male voice that she heard talking to Mulder. At least one of the two sounded jovial and there was intermittent laughter. An old friend, maybe? Mulder certainly didn't have any friends at the FBI that she knew of, at the present.
She slowed her pace, scolding herself for trying to catch phrases of the conversation. It was unlike her to eavesdrop, but a glimpse into Mulder's past was rare, and she knew that the conversation would come to a halt, as soon as she made her presence known. Besides, she did not want to interrupt the playful banter, although the stranger was doing most of the talking, apparently laughing at his own jokes, some of which could have been at Mulder’s expense, given that Mulder was laughing much less and not as loudly.
About 10 feet from the door, Scully stopped, just as the stranger's voice was saying, "I don't understand why you would trust her, knowing what you know about her, acting all supportive, when she was really just trying to debunk your work. I don't know why you would ever want to partner with that bitch again."
Scully held her breath. Had the man just called her a bitch?
She heard Mulder say, "Don't call her that, Jeff," and relaxed just slightly, mildly reassured by the fact that Mulder was defending her.
"Hey, your words, not mine."
Scully had a hard time believing Jeff’s words. Mulder and her certainly had their differences, but she couldn’t imagine him calling her a bitch. Or would he?
Scully had her doubts, until Mulder asked pensively, "She is kind of manipulative and domineering, isn't she?"
There was no training in Quantico that could have prepared her for that kind of bullet to her heart and none of the walls that she had erected were sufficient armor to stop it from penetrating deep into where it hurt most. Not Mulder. It couldn't be. Had she been wrong about him all along? Had he just been playing her, pretending to have affectionate feelings, when he really despised her? Scully suddenly felt nauseous and momentarily almost lost her balance.
The triumph in Jeff's voice was evident: "Yes!" he exclaimed, "and Reggie agreed."
“Who's Reggie?” Scully mouthed to herself, standing in the gloomy hallway, when Mulder echoed her thoughts, "Who's Reggie?"
Just then, the man's phone rang. - Either a salvation for Scully's bruised heart or a spoke in the wheel of her finding out what was going on. It was like watching a car wreck, and Scully had the perverse feeling that she just couldn't look away. She was frozen, forced to keep listening.
"Sorry, I gotta take this," the man said hastily, the moving location of his voice suggesting that he was getting ready to leave.
"Nice talking to you, Jeff," Mulder said his goodbye.
"Yeah, we need to do this again, sometime. Maybe over a beer?"
"You bet."
The sound of business shoes on linoleum, the faint creak of the door, and "Jeff" entered the hallway.
He didn't seem the slightest bit startled to see her standing there, off-kilter, as if caught mid-step.
"Agent Scully!" he greeted her joyfully, "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."
Scully nodded stiffly but politely, but she refused to extend her hand for a handshake, as he approached.
Noting her iciness, Jeff raised his eyebrows, then turned his attention to his phone to take the call that he had been so eager to answer, previously.
Scully hesitated briefly, then approached the office door. No, she would not lash out at Mulder. That was not her style. She would remain professional, but maybe, as much as it pained her, she would now have to consider a reassignment. The mere thought of that was overwhelming, but she knew that if it was what had to be done, she would find the strength to leave Mulder and the X-Files behind.
Mulder's greeting as she entered the room was disturbingly exuberant.
"Hey, good morning!"
Scully faked a smirk but didn't say anything. How could he act as if he hadn't just badmouthed her in her absence?
"Something wrong?" he mumbled all too convincingly, walking closer to her and scrunching up his forehead.
"I'm fine," she said – as usual when things clearly weren't okay.
"Well, I've got something to perk you right up. Listen to this!"
He went on a rant about werewolves, or shapeshifters, or something along those lines. His enthusiasm and the glimmer in his eyes, as he went through the projector slides, pointing out details in the crime scene photos here and there, would have been endearing to her just 10 minutes prior but now annoyed her to no end. Admittedly, she barely heard anything that he was saying, as her mind was still on his earlier conversation with Jeff.
Mulder had had her fooled. This past year, he had probably only been taking advantage of her scientific knowledge and autopsy skills. Perhaps, she thought glumly, he had also become frustrated by the fact that she was not as easy of a lay as other women that he had encountered. He would not be the first man to call a so-called "frigid" woman a bitch.
Despite his zest, Mulder was noticing her disinterest and paused his waterfall of words, eyeing her cautiously.
"You seem absent."
"Mulder, stop always inquiring into my state of well-being," she snapped.
Mulder looked at her as if pondering the meaning of her response, then did as instructed. However, Scully could still see the wheels turning in his head. He wasn't going to let this one go.