Subject: Lessons 25 NEW
Date: Wed, 19 Aug 1998
*XXV*
12:35 PM, State Secretary's Office, Richmond, Virginia
"Oh shit-fuck-damn." Tina dug her knuckles into her
eyes. Saw reddish
blotches mixed with glitterglobs from the copier's hard light.
Okay, get
Zen. Imagine the spots as an inner lava lamp and maybe this
bullshit might
turn groovy.
"Here, Jeffie." Thick, bundled paper thwacked
against her belly and a
muscle twinged.
"Sadist." She took the file. "I'm fading fast here, kid."
Dana riffled the copies in the 'job finished' tray. Bloodshot
pupils
glanced up at Hill. "You want more coffee?"
Tina eyed the cup on the counter next to her. Greasy, pale
brown stuff
inside a circular Styrofoam boundary. Clots of creamer.
"Coffee? Is that
what it said on the machine?"
"Uh-huh. My treat. You want the sucrose special again?"
"Shit," Hill groaned and turned back to the copier.
"What kind of city
doesn't have a Starbuck's on every corner?"
"Richmond." Coins jangled as Dana shook her pants
pocket, and Hill gritted
her teeth. "C'mon Tina. You want coffee or not?"
"What I want is to kiss off this Xerox machine." She
dropped the lid over
another asshole's Article of Incorporation and thumbed the green
button. "I
wasn't recruited for clerical services."
"What does that mean?" The question was flat. Predatory. The New Dana.
Tina sighed. "Look, I just want to figure out what
fuckwad grabbed your
partner so I can get back to a city with iced latte and a
secretarial
pool."
"This is not a waste of your time, Agent Hill--if that's what you're implying."
"Oh yeah? Well, let's talk about that--Agent
Scully." Hill waved at the
stacks of documents and copies. "For four days you've been
spouting
conspiracy crap and we've been nosing around every rathole in
D.C. and
Virginia looking for crumbs. And now I'm running copies of the
articles of
incorporation for a goddamned sex-toy shop! And--and
it's--it's...." She
threw her hands out, mouth open, flailing for words. "Well,
for shit's
sake, what do you expect to find here? This--this is
insane."
The muscles along Dana's jawline flexed and one eye twitched.
Looked like
frickin' Clint Eastwood and Tina wanted to giggle and smack her
all at
once. Tried to keep from doing either as Tiny Dirty Harry
reminded, "We're
here because Agent Mulder is gone, and is almost certainly in
physical
danger. He may be dead already because we've overlooked something
as simple
as one sentence on one page of these documents."
"You don't believe that." Hill shook her head,
looked up to see the clerk
behind the counter filing with the kind of concentration used to
ignore
drug dealers and bad dates. "And I'm not fucking around,
Dana--being a lazy
agent. I haven't overlooked anything: not one page you wanted
copied, not
that Mulder plays conspiracy games, not that you're scared and
hurt. I just
don't think this the way to find him. Maybe our Mystery Date
tonight can
help, but this is--this is a paranoia monger's wet dream. Mulder
ordered
dirty tapes through DT Enterprises; he bought a week with an
ass-kickin'
whore--I don't know--but the board of directors of some--what's
this load?
Ophelia Diversified--okay, the board of some antique malls,"
she shook the
file, "has not got your partner tied to a Mission Style
chair in the back
of Stickley's Many Splendored Things. It just ain't so."
"Are you finished?" Crimson hairline capillaries made pupils look bluer.
Hill shut her own eyes and let her head tip back. "Yeah. I guess I am."
"All right. I'm going to go buy us each another cup of
coffee. We are going
to xerox every piece of paper here." Hill didn't open her
eyes at the slap
of a palm on paper. "Then we'll drive back to Washington and
I'll get you
reassigned."
"Dana!" Tina suddenly yanked herself upright, but
Scully had already
wheeled and was stalking through the open door. Tina pointed at
the paper
pile, shouting to the clerk, "This is ours. I'll be right
back!" and was
out the door before the girl could answer. "Dana, wait!
Goddamnit, Mutt!"
The little woman was walking as fast as she could, slapping
her heels
against tile so hard that Hill winced in sympathy. Long legs and
didn't
need to run. Ran anyway. "Dana, you're not getting rid of
me. And
especially not before you meet this guy tonight. Don't even think
about it.
You aren't going out to that overlook alone."
"I don't think there's anything else to say." Dana
didn't stop, didn't turn
her head to look. "I'm running an investigation. I'm the
agent in charge
and you just questioned my judgment."
"This is really a fine time to pull rank on me. Yes, I
did question your
fucking judgment," Hill snapped, caught her friend by the
arm and jerked
her to a halt. "I questioned the judgment of a stressed out,
freaked out,
exhausted person who shouldn't be working this case. You're too
close to
it, Dana. You've been down in that basement with Spooky so long
that
everything looks like fairy tales. I don't think it would take
much to
convince the AD of that either."
Hill watched Scully blanch. "Shit, Tina. Skinner pulls me
off this case and
Mulder's dead. There's nobody else with a chance in hell of
finding him."
"Listen to yourself. You sound like a codependent! '"
"Jesus Christ! What do you want me to say? You want to
think that Mulder's
abusing me? You want to rescue me from him--is that it? Christina
Hill, you
have no idea in hell what I have been through or what Mulder and
I have
seen!"
"You're right," Hill sighed. "But I know what
you've got on Mulder's
disappearance, and it's fuck all. I mean, realistically, what
HAVE you got?
A couple of vile dirty videos and an e-mail deal for who knows
what. Dana,
look at it. Really look at it. Believe it or not, I want to find
Mulder
almost as much as you. But that means we start with procedure.
Where do you
look when a cop disappears? It ain't where he bought his
porn."
Scully was standing her ground, stiff body and shoulders
squared. "No. We
won't find Mulder if we go by the textbooks. I know it sounds
thin. I know
how hard it's to believe. God, don't I know that! But he needs--I
need--you
to believe."
"But I don't." Hill glanced sheepish at the yellowed
floor tiles. "I just
don't buy into this creepy little fantasy of yours."
"Then give me something better." Dana demanded. "Go on."
"I don't know." She looked up. Saw a feral snap in
azure eyes. "Maybe
someone's on parole. Some asshole let Monty Props out for good
behavior. I
don't know and I won't know until we look, and that's the
point."
Dana drew a measured breath and Hill knew she was trying to
sound sane.
"I'm telling you that we won't find Mulder looking where
we've been trained
to look. If you can't believe in the conspiracies or the X-Files
or any of
the other shit, please, can you believe in me?"
Tina Hill stared down at her friend, wanting to say no, and
that emotional
arm-twisting was a piss-poor way to win an argument. Instead,
Hill shut her
eyes, took her lies in her hands, and gave them to Dana, just
like she was
supposed to. "All right. All right. I'll try to
believe--"
A hand on her arm sent a shiver through skin. Tina hated
Dana's small,
relieved smile. "Thanks, Jeff. Better get back to the
machine before
someone else takes it over."
"All right." She sighed. "Five sugars in that swill. And you buy dinner."
"You got yourself a deal."
--lisby@earthlink.net
---------------------------------------
"Do you want fries with that?"
---------------------------------------
For the best of X-Files fan fiction
and images, visit IOHO at
http://home.earthlink.net/~iwonder