A Whole New WorldFEEDBACK - Oh Yes Please -You can email us docwho2000@hotmail.com author: docwho2100 and ellie no name Consensual relationship depicted between adult women in this story. If you have a problem with that or are under 18 please do not read. AUTHORS' NOTES – I am sure this has been done before, in fact we would not be surprised if this general storyline exists at least in the same general vein as I set it up– if it does – YAY and please let us know where those stories are so we can go read. As such, this is our first attempt at BoP or X-Files fanfic. Saying that, feedback is welcome especially if this is a lot like other stuff out there.
Chapter 1 - "Welcome To My Life" (Simple Plan) Quantico Saturday Night, 11:00pm Sighing the red-head took off her glasses and half-heartedly tossed them on the desk. She watched them land on the manila envelope that had been waiting for her when she got back to her office and was the cause, among other things, for the sigh. It'd been almost four months since the last envelope and she had just about forgotten what had happened as a result of the last one. She stared at her small desk lamp, the only illumination on the office. She preferred the dim light as her eyes had been overtaxed during the last two hours from the harsh lights in the autopsy lab. She'd been so engrossed in detailing the new procedures and testing new equipment that her muscles' protests had gone unheard as her mind took over allowing her to continue on past normal limits. Of course that meant now she was going to pay and she could feel her calf muscles along with her upper back and neck muscles almost shaking with tension and tautness from having been standing for so long not moving much except to retrieve an implement, make a change in the tape recording or lean further in to examine a detail. Anyone who worked with her, especially the last four years knew this was her style. To throw herself into the case, autopsy, lecture, whatever might be the current focus always received the full 110% of her attention. Rarely did she let her mind or mannerisms waver or appear uncontrolled. She could not afford to as rumors and gossip still followed her as did that slight air of being a freak and being on the outside. She tapped her fingers on the envelope at this thought as she realized those biting words and whispered conversations always would surround her. No matter how hard she tried, no matter what she did, no matter how many awards and special recognitions she had received in the last four years, she would always have that large X hanging over her head. Scully peered at the clock and shook her head making a tsking noise at herself. She'd actually the last year or so come to accept the X, somewhat. She knew it would be there forever, even if her reputation managed to outrun it or somehow found a way to erase it from her record. Her own personal traits, character and mind would never shed what had happened to her. And frankly she was coming to a point where she actually did not mind that she could not climb out from under the shadow. Unsolved puzzles always did stimulate her imagination. Her laughter rang through the office, "Good god I've become Mulder." As the words echoed and were swallowed by the stillness of the Bureau, she stopped her tapping finger when the enormity and truthfulness of those words hit her. The FBI agent had changed Dana Scully; her beliefs, approach to life, even her physical chemisty, all had been touched deeply and permanently once she had been partnered with Mulder. Never could what she had gone through be redone, taken away or made 'better'. What did that mean anyway... made better. At first, those first few years, she fought the changes. Dana had a clear sense of better and knew honestly that working on X-Files, with Fox Mulder was not better. It was so far from who she was at that point, the path she planned to travel and even what she was capable of at that juncture of her life. But now... now she was a whole new woman. That fact was something she had slowly accepted. Along with the realization that alone, with out the X-Files she never would have gotten to the place she was today. The X-Files had molded her, shaped her and very literally rebirthed her. She'd died, she was certain of that now. And although she didn't believe in reincarnation, she had been trained through her X-File experiences not to discount anything. She could not afford to waste any more time denying the existence of more than her mind understood, to continue trying to hide, run away or even rationalize things out. The agent had come to understand some truths would find a way to drag you down whether you were kicking and screaming or calmly watching the show as you went. The key to remaining somewhat sane was saving your energy. Not fighting the inevitable, inevitable because as the song goes, nowhere to run to baby, nowhere to hide. She had learned through trial by fire, and trial by water, mutants, aliens, chemicals, you name it she'd gone through it, but Scully'd learned that energy could be better spent on finding the backdoor way out of the situation. To not waste energy running from something that would grab you, use you and spit you back out but rather focus on keeping some semblance of sanity as the weirdness processed you, mutated you and then spit you out naked and bare in front of the world. That way you could find your feet at the end and walk away. Sure you might be limping, crawling or the way her life had gone you might have an extra leg by the end. The secret was you were still moving. Might be in a different place, with a new mindset or even suddenly seeing the world for the first time, but you were still around to enjoy the fireworks. Seeing the world…. She chuckled at that as she turned the envelope over seeing only a small X in the corner. Time dealing with the X-Files had given her a new vision. One might say an x-ray vision to the soul. So now, almost four years after her last physical contact with her former partner, she found he still could get to her. She was sure if she checked the cameras, both the official FBI and the ones she had personally installed, the year Mulder disappeared had taught her a lot about surveillance and she now employed many non-traditional methods, there would be no indication of who had delivered the envelope. But the red-head knew and it still brought the ghost of a smile to her lips. She pursed her lips at that thought as she realized she actually had come full circle in some ways. She still held tightly to her science, her medical profession, her determined thoroughness in attacking a problem, in finding an answer. But she had relaxed that scientific method and code quite a bit. She'd become the one to suggest a non-traditional, a not by the book, in fact so far away from the book you might as well use the book for something more useful, like wiping your butt, possible solution. So yes, the last few years instead of running away from the X, she'd come to ignore it and carried on. The forensic specialist still felt the stares, the initiation of new agents that included a trip by her office or lab and the explanation that always had people making those quote marks in the air or doing the little finger spin around their temple, universal signals for something about Agent Scully was a little off kilter. "And I am," she sighed out loud admitting that. As shocked as she'd been at her partner's unprofessional manners, and Mulder was very unprofessional, the woman realized how much she had become just like that which had at one time made her go to her superiors requesting transfer or at least public reprimands. But Scully was not Mulder. Although she continued his research she at least kept a firm sense of professionalism associated with her mannerisms, reports and cases. It kept her slightly ahead of the total joke game that had befallen Mulder. That sense of authority that hugged her like a well worn mantle kept her in a regular office and lab and not some basement. And that sense of getting the job done and using the most efficient methods (although her superiors talked about the fact her efficient methods sometimes were not the most sane, expected or requested but they did get the job done) had brought her to the fork in the road that lay before her. She'd been offered a promotion, of sorts. In one way it was a tip of the hat to her abilities and the fact she was not, well not officially, working on the X-files and bringing shame to the FBI name. But in another way she had a feeling it was a move to further isolate her, further bury the Bureau's dirty secrets. New administrations had come into the division in the last year and once again Operation Clean Slate was in effect. And this last offer seemed to be part of that ritual. Sure being a Director was a promotion and for once it meant at least right above her on the chain she'd not have to answer to some one or explain her report no matter how meticulous she had been in preparing it. But she'd started checking out the two offices she'd been given to choose from and as suspected the position was more a title to entice her to take the one way ticket to Obscurityville. Dr. Dana Scully, trained medical doctor and FBI agent, could spend her days in Siding, South Dakota over 300 miles from any town with a population of more than 200 or take the New Gotham office. An office that for some reason was harder to find out about than her former partner's X-files. In fact from the small gossip and few reports she'd found she was beginning to think she should be researching New Gotham using the X-files. "Damned if I do..." she let the rest of the quote go, she knew she was dammed. Had been so many years ago when the words, "Your new partner, Fox Mulder," had echoed through the office. Tucking the mysterious envelope in her briefcase along with a stack of other reports to be reviewed and finished up, Dana stood and switched off the desk lamp. She was tired, had been tired for quite awhile now. She picked up another folder and headed down the empty halls. She stopped and placed the folder with her acceptance of the Directorship for the New Gotham field office in her superior's bin. With one last look at the folder, she headed out already thinking about
packing and what she would need to do to clean out her office here. "Ready
or not here I come." She sang out hoping this new direction would
provide the change she needed to lift her spirits and her life from where
it had fallen. contact: docwho2000@hotmail.com page last modified - August 25, 2005 graphics from www.eosdev.com |