[oom: The X-Files: Ancient History]

[she_questions]

Dana has a cup of coffee precariously balanced on the edge of a desk she commandeered from his ever encroaching pile of paper work.  She's bent over a stack of yellowing manilla folders, each one with an X file number meticulously hand-typed on a label and affixed above a brief description.

After their encounter with Eugene Tooms, she still isn't sleeping through the night, finding herself checking and rechecking the vents and windowsills, trying to catch a whiff of bile on the air.  Her solution as always, is to throw herself into her work.

"Mulder, how far do these files go back, anyway?"

Comments

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

"Way back. Far enough that the first official one was filed by J. Edgar himself."

Across the office he leans back in his chair, watching his new partner over the top of one of the more recent reports.

"Anything that can't be explained makes its way down here eventually."

[she_questions]

"Anything and everything, it looks like," she murmurs half to herself.

"I'm just wondering, how we're going to get this guy for these murders, if we can't get them to acknowledge that he's the same man."

There's an edge to her voice, one he knows well by now. Her precious scientific method is useless when the courts won't admit your evidence.

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

Mulder's mouth twists.

"We have the evidence from Exeter Street-- the trophies he took from his victims. They can't ignore the correlation, Scully." He watches her, reading her before continuing. "If the assault charge keeps him from killing until we can build a better case, we might have to accept that for now."

[she_questions]

She takes off her glasses and rubs her eyes, sighing.

"Yes, I know. I just -- don't see how any judge is going to accept that as evidence. Because the theory, however demonstrable, stretches credulity to the point of breaking."

She sits back, rolling her shoulders.

"And I don't feel good about the prospects of having Eugene Tooms examined like -- some kind of specimen."

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

"The important thing is that he won't be hurting anyone else," his eyes sliding off of her as the sentence ends. Concerned, not patronizing.

"I only wish those fingerprints were admissible."

[she_questions]

"Well, they aren't. Not without a reasonable scientific explanation for his particular morphology."

And that's just not going to happen. Moving on.

"Have you eaten yet? I think I could do with a break."

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

"We just need a judge who, not unlike myself, has always been suspicious of Stretch Armstrong."

Mulder digs beneath one of the mountains of paperwork, emerging with a bag of sunflower seeds. Empty.

"Sure. I could use some time out of the basement."

[she_questions]

She does smirk at his dry wit. He's not nearly as insular as her contacts had made him out to be, a fact for which she was very grateful.

"How does Chinese sound?"

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

"Just about perfect, actually." The report goes back onto the pile, and he goes for his coat. "You have somewhere in mind?"

[she_questions]

She stretches, reaching for hers as well, slipping her arms in her jacket and dragging her hands through her hair. Tired hands fumble with her glasses and she tucks them back into their case.

"Yeah, Honey Wu's. She's open late, and she makes the best Mu Shu pork. You drive, I'll buy."

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

Mulder beats her to the door to hold it open, a contented sound in his throat.

"Ah, and thus emerge the true benefits of having a partner. You should have pissed those folks upstairs off long ago, Scully."

[she_questions]

She gives him the you're kidding right? look as she passes him in the doorway.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I didn't piss anyone off. And I rather resent the implication. Do I threaten your complete and utter dominion over the bizarre and inexplicable case of -- the Dog Boy of Lubbock, Texas?"

Her tone is light, teasing, and she falls into step beside him, not even trying to trot to keep up with his easy, long legged stride.

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

"I resent that implication. I think you'll find I'm quite happy to share that case."

It's a long way out of the basement. Up some stairs, an elevator ride, a half-dozen corridors and a security checkpoint. Mulder is kept buried deep, but he's used to it.

[she_questions]

She laughs, shakes her head.

"Well, remind me to pick up some milkbones on the way back, huh?"

She'd rather deal with the Dog Boy of Lubbock than Eugene Tooms any day of the week.

The elevator glides to a stop and then hitches.

"What the --?"

They're caught between floors.

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

"We've stopped."

He tries the button again, then another, but the elevator doesn't move.

The emergency phone offers nothing but static.

"Well that's spooky."

[she_questions]

She takes the phone from him, punches a few buttons.

"Great. Just great."

She pulls the alarm button and the elevator lurches. There's a metallic DING! that she's never heard before.

"That's weird."

And then the doors slide open.

[he-believes.livejournal.com]

There's a beat of silence before Mulder steps protectively in front of his partner, one hand to his weapon.

"Scully? I might have to call a rain check on that Mu Shu pork."

Because what's on the other side of the door sure isn't the Bureau. (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/23154510.html)