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Title: Water Cooler Crowd 

Classification: 3rd person POV

Spoilers: none so far

Summary:

Feedback: is food for the soul, so please take a moment to
tell me what you think of this, my first, effort.

Disclaimer: They're not mine, duh. They belong to CC, the
creator and most especially to GA and DD who breathe life
into them.

~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~><~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

I look up expectantly when I hear their voices in the
hallway.

Of all the Agents that pass through here from time to time,
it is these two that have been the most constant and most
intriguing. I've seen them in here so often, mostly together
though sometimes apart, that to my colleagues I've even
become something of an authority on them. They will
expect me to give them the gossip on this purported latest
mess the infamous duo have gotten themselves into, as
soon as this meeting is over.

The gossip surrounding these two has always centered on
outward appearances. Centered around these attractive
Agents who works so closely together that one usually
knows what the other is thinking without them exchanging
more than two words. These two Agents who are never
seen to have a private life. This male Agent who touches
his female partner on the small of her back as if she
belongs to him. This female Agent, so willful and
independent, who allows it.

The water cooler crowd wonders about what I know and
wants only one question answered, are they or aren't they?

As of yet, I do not know the answer to that one.

I do know though, that where meetings between the AD
and his other Agents are usually conducted with
businesslike efficiency, their interviews usually end up with
one or both of them storming off, he slamming the door,
she gently clicking it shut with a finality that somehow
echoes much louder.

I know that the cases they are assigned to and even more
so the cases they request to be assigned to, are often
cases no other Agents would come within a mile of. I know
that these cases are often dangerous and always draining,
physically and even more so, emotionally.

And I know it is starting to show.

Not that anything would seem to be amiss to the casual
viewer or even the not so casual one. These two know how
to keep their emotions to themselves, their expressions
carefully neutral.

But however much they try to hide the wear and tear of the
last few years, to my by now trained eye they do not quite
succeed.

She especially does not.

Not that I have ever seen her break down or have even
seen her act less than perfectly professional, that's just not
her way, I gathered that the first time I was her stalk
through here. The signs are much more subtle but they are
there non the less, you just have to know where to look.

And that's exactly where you'll find it, in her look.

Though he has been known to throw protocol out the
window on just about anything including the dress code
around here, she has never come in looking less than
perfect. Not a hair out of place and always dressed to the
nines. This has never changed. But slowly the rest of her
look has changed dramatically and that's where she
reveals herself.

Never a flashy dresser, her array of suits was non the less
always impressive. There was one beige phase I didn't
much care for but thankfully she quickly moved to more
tailored suits in different colors. I especially liked the
various shades of blue she used to wear that dramatically
set of her hair and eyes. Then there was a burgundy suit
that not many redheads could have pulled off but she
somehow did.

Nowadays she just wears black.

For some unknown reason this simple fact, a fashion
statement in others, makes me ache for her.

I suspect it reflects her changing outlook on life.

Her partner looks at her with a pained expression on his
face sometimes, when he thinks no-one's watching. I
guess he suspects the same thing.

The pair of them have featured in many a hot debate and
have been the subject of many lustful stares over the
years. They know but hardly seem to care about the
former, and are completely oblivious to the latter. I must
admit to my own fair share of fantasies over her partner at
one point but anyone with half a brain would know he
would never be interested in anyone but her anyway.

It's her I've been fascinated with though, from the moment I
first saw her.

She comes across so strong and competent. It's in the way
she moves with such grace and assurance, the way she
strides in here, head held high, back ramrod straight. She's
a woman making her way in the Old Boys Network and
therefore has to be twice as good at anything she does,
twice as right before getting anything done from the other
Agents, twice as serious to be taken seriously. She does
all that and more and in the process makes her detractors
look bad simply by being better than them.

Then, to top it off she does not follow the career path
mapped out for her, which surely would have had her
gunning for an AD position one of these days. Instead,
after having initially been assigned to debunk his work, she
chooses to stay with the lone wolf in the basement.
Chooses to pursue with him these cases that no-one else
deems worth their time since they are not the sort of high
profile cases that get you noticed by the higher ups. The
sort of cases that make a career.

In truth, most likely no-one but the pair in the basement
would have a prayer of solving them anyway.

Watching all this unfold from the sidelines I cheer for her,
she makes me proud.

As does he, usually. Instead of treating her as she had
been treated by her male co-workers since joining the FBI,
he accepted her as his partner and treated her as an
equal. Most of the time anyway. And I'm sure the other
times, the times he ditched her or was overprotective of
her, he only had her best interest at heart. As did she the
times she tried to reign him in and temper his enthusiasm
with her common sense.

I like them; I like both of them for what they stand for, a
working relationship between a man and a woman, based
on mutual respect and mutual trust, a thoroughly
professional relationship. Which isn't to say they aren't
emotionally invested in each other. I've seen her frenzied
when he disappeared in the Bermuda triangle, I've seen
him equally crazed when she disappeared those three
months. I've seen them come in to these offices time and
again, fighting for the others life or career, fighting with
each other sometimes.

Do they love each other? Are you blind?

Are they sleeping together? I certainly hope for their sakes
they are, but I suspect they're not.

Does it matter that much anyway? Not as far as I am
concerned. I think what matters most is that together they
forged a unique partnership unlike any I have yet seen.

But there too is the crux. Their partnership, combined with
their solve rate is the envy of the entire bureau as much as
their expense accounts and hospital stay record isn't.

There are a lot of Agents out there who would like to see
these two go down

And thus the incident - alleged incident - has given rise to a
heated new debate and a brand new office pool.

Did he or didn't he?

Because this time the rumor is that Agent Mulder might
very well be responsible for putting Agent Scully out of
commission for the foreseeable future.

The water cooler crowd is expecting me to give them their
answers. They want me to tell them he did it and thus give
them ammunition with which to gun down the duo's
reputation and destroy what credibility they have left.

I have other things on my mind though.

I know she and her partner have been at odds with each
other lately, and if these rumors are true, I wonder if today I
will see the dissolution of this partnership.

If he did what they say he did, he will never be able to
forgive himself, even if she can. And his guilt will only be
exacerbated by the office buzz which will most certainly be
spiteful. In fact it might just be vicious enough to finally
cause their downfall.

Envy is an ugly thing, especially coming from your co-
workers. Even more so when those co-workers are people
you might one day have to trust to guard your back. No
wonder these two have only ever trusted each other, no
wonder I like them above their so-called peers.

I've been rooting for them from the sidelines for going on 7
years now. I'd hate for this to be the end of my cheering
session.

No wonder I've been anxiously waiting for them to keep
their appointment with AD Skinner all day, while all the
while forcing myself to maintain a front of calm.

A knock on the door announces their arrival. They do not
wait for me to call them in but I'm not offended, the knock
on the door is more courtesy than I usually get anyway.

>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~><~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

When they enter I cannot stifle a gasp at their appearance.
At first glance you wouldn't think anything was wrong. He is
as immaculately dressed as ever and holds open the door
for her just as always. He even reaches for her to guide her
through the door as he invariably does, his hand
automatically searching out its accustomed place low on
her back.

There the illusion is shattered though. For though she is as
impeccably dressed as he is, she does not stride through
the door in her usual brisk manner. Instead she carefully
makes her way through the door on uncomfortable
crutches. Her head is down and she seems focused solely
on getting over to the couch and getting off her feet.

His hand on her back is there for support this time, physical
support rather than the emotional support his affectionate
and at times reverent gesture always seems to convey.

The cause of her discomfort is plain as I take in the cast on
her left leg. She is obviously in some pain and I don't know
what they hell she is doing here. She looks like she should
be in a hospital or at the very least at home in bed, not
outside the AD's door waiting to no doubt get chewed out
for whatever breach of protocol they have perpetrated.

I get up and offer my help settling her on the couch but she
brusquely shakes her head. I know enough about her to
know that she is not one to accept help easily so I take her
rebuff in stride. She has yet to look at me.

When I glance over at Agent Mulder he gently shakes his
head. Upon closer inspection he doesn't look so
impeccable. There are dark circles under his eyes and he
obviously hasn't shaved in a day or two.

He and I anxiously keep an eye on Agent Scully's
progress.

She has finally made her way over to the couch and is now
lowering herself down slowly. He is standing over her, not
touching her but ready to grab a hold of her at a moment's
notice. When she is settled she looks up at him and offers
him a tiny smile. It's all she can give him, the right side of
here face is too bruised and swollen for anything else. Her
cheek is so badly discolored it's almost black. Angry purple
and red contusions streak down towards her jaw and
flower up towards her temple. A thin but deep gash
decorates the center of the bruise, following the sweep of
her cheekbone. I hope it won't scar.

I wonder what happened, whatever it was it must have
been bad. I wonder what happens now.

>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~><~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

Agent Mulder does not answer Agent Scully's smile but
instead turns towards me with a pained expression on his
face and asks me to please inform Skinner they are there.

I go back to my desk and tell AD Skinner just that. His gruff
voice filters back to me through the intercom, telling me
he'll be a few minutes and to send the Agents in as soon
as he buzzes next. I acknowledge his command and
wonder if he knows what happened anymore than I do.

I surreptitiously glance over at the Agents and notice Agent
Mulder has joined his partner on the couch. He is not
looking at her but instead is studying his hands as if the
answers to life, the universe and everything are hidden in
the creases in his palms.

Agent Scully meanwhile is squirming uncomfortably on the
couch and I wonder if she has any more not so apparent
injuries hidden underneath her black business suit. My
musings are cut short when she suddenly speaks up. Her
voice is soft and she sounds tired when she asks me if I
could please get her something to drink, something without
caffeine and preferably not carbonated, juice would be best
if it's not too much of a bother.

I get up and smile at her to let her know it is no bother at
all. I know she is a very independent woman and I know
how much it must gall her to ask for help so I quickly start
to leave before she can change her mind. I turn at the door
and ask her partner if he would like something to drink as
well.

His eyes never leave his hands as he quietly asks me to
get him some coffee.

They haven't said two words to each other all the while
they have been here and even though through her smile
she has tried to forge a connection he doesn't seem
inclined to respond in kind. Now that the immediate worry
over her sitting down safely is over he seems to have
withdrawn to someplace deep inside himself, some place
grim with high walls and maybe a moat where nothing or
no-one can reach him.

Except her I guess.

Usually.

It's painfully clear to both him and me however that she's
not at her usual, moat swimming, wall climbing best right
now and that seems to add to his distress immeasurably.

She doesn't seem to be quite ready to throw in the towel
just yet though.

I have a feeling that she asked for the juice just so she
could get him to herself for a moment. I also get the feeling
they have probably been surrounded by far too many
people, at the crime scene I imagine and then in the
hospital and during the flight and subsequent cab ride back
here. They ostensibly haven't had a moment to
themselves, have found no time to talk things through and
start dealing with them.

The stain between them is palpable but I see her make a
visible effort to marshal her strength in order to start trying
to clear the moat and scale the walls anyway .

Quietly I leave them to it.

Walking out into the hallway I find curious glances are cast
in my direction wherever I go. I ignore them all and quickly
make my way down to the cafeteria to pick up some apple
juice. I hesitate only a second and then add a coffee for
him and two ham-on-rye sandwiches. I wouldn't be
surprised if they haven't eaten since before this happened.

Making my way back I realize I still don't have a clue as to
what this "this" is that is supposed to have happened.

~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~><~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

As I approach AD Skinners offices my pace slows until
I have come to a full stop right outside. Their
disembodied voices float back to me through the
hardwood door. His sounds agitated hers soothing. I
cannot make out what they are saying though and
actually debate for a moment whether to put my ear to
the door or not. I can almost feel the water cooler
crowd urging me to do just that.

Eavesdropping on them in this manner would mean I
would probably learn in no time what happened, as
they are more likely than not discussing that right now.
It would also mean I would have no plausible
deniability towards the gossipmongers around here
though, as small gatherings of them are scattered
throughout the hall, observing my actions. They would
know I'd have a story to tell the minute I pressed my
ear to the door and would not rest until I'd told it.

I decide against it and instead quietly open the door.
The collective sigh of disappointment from the water
cooler crowd is almost audible. I find satisfaction in
that, in fact it pleases me no end.

Coffee and juice in one hand, sandwiches in the other
I walk in and flash a smile at the objects of all this
curiosity. They do not even notice my entrance,
focused as they are solely on each other.

I catch the tail end of their argument. Agent Mulder is
standing over his partner, towering over her, obviously
using his superior height to cry and cower her. Agent
Scully is having none of it. She too is on her feet,
leaning heavily on her crutches and swaying a bit. I
have a fleeting thought to the effect that this stand off
hardly seems fair. Whereas he apparently survived
whatever they went through without a scratch, she is
hurt and looks about ready to keel over.

Then I notice the way her blue eyes are spitting fire
and I think again.

She's telling him that he should not blame himself, that
she is as much to blame as he is, that neither of them
could have foreseen this happening. Her tone brooks
no argument and had it been me at the receiving end
of that little speech I would have felt wholly absolved,
would have thrown in the towel and pronounced her
right in every way.

He merely hangs his head in shame and seems less
than convinced. His face is contorted, anguish written
plainly across his features. He gives no reply though,
apparently aware of my presence now and unwilling to
argue in front of me.

Thus it is Agent Scully who has the last word, for now.
I do think however that Agent Mulder has silently
reserved the right to get back to the argument and his
self flagellation sometime in the near future,
presumably when they are once again alone.

He turns to me and his movement alerts Agent Scully
to my presence. She starts to turn towards me as well
but moves too quickly and looses her balance. To my
horror she starts to fall and I am too far away to do
anything but look on helplessly.

Agent Mulder is there to catch her though.

He assists her towards the couch and gently
admonishes her to take it easy. He then takes her
juice from me with a grateful nod and tells her to drink
it. While she sips her drink he produces a small bottle
filled with little white pills from his pocket, shakes out
two of them and presents them to her.

His voice is stern as he tells her to swallow them but
underneath his brusque words there is a tenderness
that takes my breath away. In all my life I have never
been spoken to by anyone with such absolute
reverence.

How he manages to vacillate between such guilt and
self-loathing as I saw reflected in his face when I
walked in one moment; and this caring, sensitive man
out only to support his ailing partner the next is beyond
me. It makes me dizzy just observing the shifts in his
demeanor. Jekyl and Hyde have got nothing on Agent
Mulder it seems.

Agent Scully for her part takes his behavior in stride.
Obviously this is nothing new to her. She sips her juice
and offers me a small smile when I present her with
the sandwich I bought her.

Her bruised cheek is turned away from me and for a
moment there is nothing to shatter the illusion of
perfection I am presented with. Pretty under any
circumstance, she is transformed by the tiny lift of her
lips into something altogether lovely. I suddenly realize
how rarely I have seen her smile. I have certainly not
seen it lately, believe me I would have remembered.
I gape at her and idly wonder what she must look like
with a full-blown smile gracing her features.

Then she turns towards her partner and with the
reemergence of the terrible contusion marring her
cheek the illusion is shattered. I hastily collect myself
and retreat back to my desk where I pretend to be
busy shoving papers to and fro and meanwhile
maintain a watchful eye on the Agents.

He has absentmindedly wolfed down his sandwich in
two huge bites and has gone back to morosely staring
at his hands. He is leaning forward and his elbows are
resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together
between them, head down. His posture is one of total
dejection.

She meanwhile has swallowed the two little white pills,
painkillers I assume, and nibbled a bit at her food. She
is obviously not very hungry but maybe she doesn't
want to appear ungrateful, or maybe her common
sense tells her she should eat something because she
will need all her energy to deal with Agent Mulder.

Presently she puts down the remains of her sandwich
and sighs deeply. I observe her observing Agent
Mulder's non-reaction to this obvious ploy for his
attention and try to make myself disappear. Maybe if
become inconspicuous enough they will finally start
discussing what happened.

I see her shore up her courage, see sorrow flit across
her features and then determination and rejoice as I
gather she has decided to try once more to reach him.
Maybe now I'll get some answers.

She has just quietly breathed his name, he has just
rather jerkily turned towards her, unwilling to get into
this again but unable to deny her anything it seems,
when I hear AD Skinner impatiently calling my name.

I lunge for the intercom but it's too late, the doors to
his office swing open and his bulk darkens the
threshold. He's obviously ticked off, probably has
buzzed a few times and getting no reply decided to
see what was happening.

Damn, the man has a sense of timing that would not
be amiss in a comedy routine. Bad comedy that is, the
kind where the joke's on me.

Apparently AD Skinner is in a foul mood and looking
for someone to vent it on. As I am the one most
recently responsible for adding to his load by not
answering his calls he starts chewing me out while not
even halfway through the door. Then his eyes fall on
his two Agents and his whole body goes still. Only his
eyes move as they take in first Agent Mulder's
slumped posture and then Agent Scully's pained lurch
as she tries to get up quickly but fails miserably.

The AD's habitually stern expression goes soft as he
sees Agent Mulder coming to his partners aid and he
abruptly turns away to afford them some privacy. He is
aware that to Agent Scully being dependant on
anyone's help is a sign of weakness and obviously
knows not to dwell on her infirmity.

Moreover he evidently was unaware of his female
Agents condition. A horrified expression is plastered
across his normally inexpressive face and I see him
working very hard to get his features under some
semblance of control.

This unusual display of emotions from this otherwise
reserved man tells me two things. First, it confirms my
suspicion that AD Skinner carries a secret torch for
Agent Scully. Where she is concerned the AD has a
protective streak to rival Agent Mulder's own. Second,
it tells me he knows that he doesn't stand a chance,
knows that her eyes are filled with Agent Mulder only,
and has already relegated himself to playing the part
of boss and sometime friend.

It is a part he plays well but I can see in his eyes what
it costs him as he silently holds open the door and lets
Agent Mulder usher his partner in. The door closes
behind them with a click and I am left to my own
devises. Still non-the wiser as to what the hell
happened.

~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~><~<~<~<~

This time I cave in to the pressure, exerted not by my
colleagues at the water cooler but by my own burning
need to know. I get up and press my ear to the door,
half-ashamed of myself but unable to curb my curiosity
any longer, and listen as they unfold their story to the
AD.

Agent Mulder does most of the talking and his voice is
so soft I am not able to catch everything he says, but I
hear enough to piece the story together.

The tale as he tells it, involves the two of them and a
case of a child's disappearance that Agent Mulder
ascribed to alien abduction and Agent Scully insisted
was abduction of a more down to earth kind. It also
involves them following Agent Scully's lead to a
remote farmhouse out in the boondocks, with Agent
Mulder protesting all the way. There they confronted
their suspect and unwittingly fouled up a 3-month
investigation into the man's activities by the domestic
terrorism unit. It ended up with Agent Mulder trying to
shoot him, while Agent Scully was serving as the
man's shield. The shot felled Agent Scully instead
hitting her in the leg as the suspect was trying to move
himself  out of the path of the bullet.

Throughout his narrative I hear Agent Scully
interspersing her comments as well. Her voice is even
softer as she consistently counters his self-
condemning statements and takes her part of the
blame. Yes he was less than enthusiastic following her
lead first; she was over zealous in pursuing it, wanting
to be right for once, instead of wrong 98,9% of the
time. Yes he did not pay any attention to the signs of
extreme duress the guy was sending out, neither did
she notice them until just before he exploded, too
focused as she was on making her case. Yes, he shot
her in the leg, but he had just been clocked a good
one seconds before. And yes, while his aim was off
which resulted in her being out of commission for a
while, at least it stopped her from being forced to
follow the perp over the edge of the roof and ending up
dead, which is what the bastard had had in mind for
her.

There's an uncomfortable silence at this last statement
and then I hear AD Skinner tell them to go home and
for Agent Scully not to come back until fully
recuperated. I hear them get up, hear the thump
thump of her crutches and his heavier steps behind
that and scurry back to my desk. The door handle
starts to move just as I slide behind my computer and
then AD Skinners voice floats towards me. He tells
Agent Mulder to take some time off and see that his
partner is taken care off properly. For a moment all
sound from the inner office ceases as they are
apparently rooted to the spot, then I hear Agent Mulder
tell him, yes, off course and they continue on their
way.

While waiting for them to come through the door, I
contemplate what I just heard

I feel intensely for both of them.

They are they going to have to endure the wrath of the
Agents on the other team who saw 3 months of hard
work going down the drain by them inadvertently
stumbling upon the scene and exposing their suspect
as not just as a terrorist but an even more heinous
child abductor. This team is even now being reamed
out for not making these connections themselves and
will in retaliation no doubt start spouting rules and
regulations, about a dozen of which the two Agents
broke by going after the suspect alone, without
notifying the local field office.

All this waiving of the rule book will have no effect on
their superiors for once as they did solve the case after
all and saved the child as well, which made the FBI
look good for a change too.

The effect on Agent Mulder and Scully's colleagues
will be pronounced however. No-one wants to work
with the crackpots in the basement as it is. Now it
appears that they are not only crazy but also they do
not follow rules, they foul up your investigations,
deprive you of your collar, then have the nerve to not
show any remorse.

When those tales start circulating these two can kiss
any though of getting any kind of back-up goodbye.

Not only that but when his all gets out they will also
need to listen to endless jabs about them seeing the
movie "Speed" one to many times. First that other case
where he drove halfway across the country without
stopping, now this. Shoot the hostage, eh Spooky?
Brilliant tactic, just brilliant, wouldn't you agree Mrs.
Spooky? You wouldn't? Oh, but then you were the
hostage, weren't you? Again.!

I can see it wearing them down another fraction. Even
if they would never admit to it they are affected by the
jabs and jeers hurled their way constantly, I see her
flinch for him as he strides by seemingly unaware, I
see him cringe when mention is made of Mrs. Spooky
and career paths leading down to the basement.

And I can see the black wardrobe reflecting back even
more starkly her black mood, can see even more guilt
clogging his features, even more smiles suppressed,
higher walls and broader moats loom in the future.

When they emerge from AD Skinner's office however,
one look at them has me hastily retracting that
thought. She is slightly in front of him, his hand is on
its rightful place low on her back, and a rather
enigmatic smile is turning up the corners of her mouth.
I don't know what else occurred in the interim but I
realize she has crossed the moat already and is
strategizing her next move. I think that if left to their
own devices, she will no doubt wind up right inside his
walls, probably much to his surprise and while he is
still busying setting rocks in place and slapping on the
mortar, cursing himself all the while.

I watch them leave and wish them well. When they
came in I feared for their partnership, seeing them
together I think they will be fine, they just need a little
room to breathe and get back on their feet.

Which leaves me in somewhat of a quandary.

What to tell the water cooler crowd, they will expect
something from me. I can't very well claim to have
heard nothing with them having been in these offices
for over an hour. And as much as I do not want to lie -
I hate liars, - I cannot tell them the truth either. That
would only be adding fuel to the fire.

A diversion, that's what is needed.

Yes I tell them, Agent Scully got hurt yesterday in a
shoot-out which also resulted in the death of a
dangerous child abductor. End of case.

"Now", I reveal to them, "what I learned this afternoon
is that yes, he does love her, and yes, they are doing
it...I think."

The water cooler crowd scurries back to spread the
news and just like that the stakes in the office pool, the
original one, are once more upped. The duo's every
gesture will once more be looked at with an eye to the
romantic, their every movement analyzed. Are they
doing it in the office, against the filing cabinet or on his
desk, or only when out of town on a case?

I look out the window and see him helping her into his
car. He holds open the door and lets her get in on her
own, or so he lets her think. From my vantage point
though, I see how he surreptitiously makes getting
in easier on her while at the same time preserving for
her the illusion of self sufficiency.

His expression is tender and leaves little doubt as to
the veracity of at least the first half of my little
revelation to the water cooler crowd, as to the second
half, who knows?

I wonder if I haven't done these two a disservice.

~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~><~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

End: Water Cooler Crowd 
I repeat; feedback is food for the soul, so please take a
moment to tell me what you think. Note that English is
not my first language, if there are any glaring errors
here I would appreciate you pointing them out.
Mail me at: either lydx@club.tip.nl 
or lydx@angelfire.com