feedback: msnsc21[at]yahoo.com
January 2, 2005
Title: The Nature of the Beast
Author: ML
Feedback: always welcome
Distribution: Gossamer, Ephemeral, yes; anyone else, just drop
me a line. Thanks!
Spoilers: S6 up through Alpha
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mulder and Scully continue to work on their partnership
in the aftermath of Two Fathers/One Son
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. They mostly belong
to the actors who portrayed them, but Chris Carter created them,
and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the rights. I mean no infringement,
and I'm not making any profit from them.
Thanks to Carol for beta and to Circe Invidiosa for giving my
stories a beautiful home.
Notes: This is the next story in a series that started with
"Sounding the Depths," "Interval," and "Do Overs."
I don't
blame you if you've forgotten them; the last one was written
in 2003! If you need a refresher you can find the others here:
http://www.invidiosa.com/ml/index.html
You can still appreciate this story without having read the
others, but I hope you will give them a look anyway.
=====
The Nature of the Beast
by ML
He is coming. I expected that he would. I won't say hope.
I deal in behavioral patterns and probabilities. I know his
interests and I know that this is something that will pique
them.
It's good to know that although I am physically weak, my mental
powers have strengthened in comparison. I can still observe
though now I am forced to do so from afar.
I have always been alone. I have always walked the solitary
way, and met life as I chose to meet it. When I could no longer
do field work, I adapted. I know the ancient rule: adapt or die.
He is a loner, too. How rare it is to find a kindred spirit.
x-x-x-x
Flying to California is not what Scully had planned tonight.
She almost sighs but catches herself just in time.
Mulder seems engrossed in the book on his lap, but he turns to
her. "Did you say something?" he asks, his finger holding his
place open.
"No," she replies. She can't express her frustration at being
called out of town again so soon after the last case. They'd
barely started settling back into the basement office after
their recent re-assignment to the X-Files. That isn't the only
reason, of course. The other reason is personal and therefore
she will not speak of it. It's hard enough to admit it to
herself.
Just the week before, not long after they'd returned from their
undercover assignment in Arcadia, they'd actually gone out
together. Just for dinner; Mulder had suggested casually
that they celebrate getting the X-Files back. He wouldn't
have dared to call it a date, and even in her mind Scully
didn't like to use the word. But Mulder had offered to come
by and pick her up at her place. He'd mentioned the name of
the restaurant so that she'd know for sure it wasn't a working
dinner.
She smiles at the memory. He'd chosen just right. It was a
cut above their usual type of place but not formal. Not wanting
to appear too frilly or date-like, she'd changed into a silk
blouse that was tailored but a bit low for work, and a softer
skirt. When Mulder appeared at her door, he'd forsaken suit
and tie for slacks and leather jacket over a nice sweater. He
was freshly shaved and she thought she could detect a hint of
cologne, very subtle, a secret shared only with her.
He'd smiled as she opened the door, a real smile that lit up
his face and made him look unfamiliar for a split second. It
was so unexpected, it made her wonder when they'd stopped
smiling.
She'd smiled a lot that night, too. They'd shared a bottle of
wine and a dessert, spinning out their time together, getting
to know each other again. Mulder had seen her to her door at
the end of the evening. Their hands brushed together as they
walked up the steps of her building, and she caught at his
fingers, glad when they curled around hers. Until that moment,
she hadn't thought about what might or might not come next.
They stood awkwardly at her door for a moment, reluctant to
part but uncertain that they should stay together.
Finally, Mulder spoke. "Work day tomorrow," he'd said softly,
his eyes warm on her face.
She thought of their urgent kisses in her car a few weeks
earlier, wondering if he was, too. She'd nodded, ducking her
head so he wouldn't see her expression.
He'd stepped closer, still holding her hand. "So I should
say goodnight." There was just a hint of a question in his
voice.
She could feel his breath on her cheek and his nose just
brushing her temple. She felt his fingers tip her chin up
and then his soft, soft lips were pressed against hers.
They'd kissed, and paused, and kissed some more. Soft,
comforting kisses, simply touching lips to lips, over and
over again. She hadn't pushed for more, and he'd taken his
cue from her. They stood cheek to cheek for several moments
before Mulder gently slid his fingers from hers.
"See you in the morning," he'd whispered in her ear, and left
one last lingering kiss on her cheek before turning away.
She'd turned away to unlock her door, then turned back to see
Mulder standing at the open door of the elevator, looking back
at her.
If she'd said his name or made a move, he'd have stayed.
But she'd simply smiled at him and mouthed "goodnight" before
turning to go inside. She'd heard the elevator door slide shut
just as she'd closed her own door.
It is a delicate dance they are performing, each taking a turn
leading, watching to make sure the other is following along,
then changing directions again. It has its charm but it's
also unnerving. She's sure they both know where they are
heading, and both are willing to get there, but they are
determined to draw it out.
She hopes for more of the same. A selfish part of her wants
to be free to enjoy this without other distractions.
When she'd gone down to the basement earlier that evening,
perhaps she'd been hoping for a repeat performance. She'd
told herself she was just checking on Mulder. She'd been
upstairs most of the day, working in her tiny cubby of an
office. Except for one trip to bring a load of files down
earlier, they'd had no contact. She'd kept herself away from
him deliberately, wondering if he'd seek her out or if he'd
comment on her absence. He'd surprised her by not calling her
every few minutes, which she thinks now was a gambit to get her
to go down to the office.
It's a game and only we know the rules, she muses. We're making
them up as we go.
He'd discovered a case for them to investigate. Maybe that
was another way of luring her back down to the basement. He
dangled the bait in front of her, and she'd taken it.
x-x-x-x
I feel deceived. He presented himself very differently -- or
I perceived him very differently -- from a distance. Perhaps
I saw only what I wanted to see. I was attracted by his mind,
by his questions and observations, so open to my unorthodox
views. He expressed interest in my theories, and even shared
some of his own. But I am thrown by Fox Mulder. His physical
presence is more unnerving than I care to acknowledge.
I'm even more thrown by his partner. I didn't expect the
trappings of officialdom with his visit. I had no idea that
the FBI investigated cases like this. I thought that his
interest was personal.
If he and I were truly canids, it would be easier. Our actions
would be dictated purely by instinct and heredity instead of
our frail human sensibilities. My frail human sensibilities.
He is not frail. I feel certain he would be the alpha male in
any pack, human or canine.
He is one of the few males I would allow to dominate me.
x-x-x-x
Scully can see that she isn't the only one who's taken the bait.
"We met online," Mulder said. Why is she surprised? He's
mentioned some of the oddball chat rooms he's used as information
sources in the past, but until now they had been just that --
Mulder's nameless, faceless sources, often dismissed by her for
that reason. But now Karin Berquist is characterized as a
colleague, and Mulder calls his contact with her "two
professionals exchanging information."
That isn't Ms. Berquist's view on the matter, Scully is pretty
sure. Had Mulder not heard the disappointment in her voice
when she asked if he'd come for any other reason? Does he
attribute her attitude shift toward him as mere eccentricity?
Regardless, it doesn't look as though they'll be getting any
cooperation from Ms. Berquist now, and Scully can't bring
herself to be sorry about it.
Mulder doesn't seem to notice Scully's silence as they drive
to their motel. "We're in luck," he says. "There's a diner
next door."
"Oh joy," Scully says. Mulder seems not to notice the sarcasm.
Is this the same Mulder that jumped on her every utterance in
Arcadia? Is he so certain of her now that he can ignore her?
Or is she the only one having adjustment problems?
x-x-x-x
Karin Berquist is more of a cipher in person than Mulder
expected. Or, maybe he is now seeing her through Scully's
eyes. He shuts his laptop, rubbing his eyes. At Karin's,
he could feel Scully's doubts even when he couldn't see her
face. No doubt Karin sensed them, too. He considers calling
Scully on it, but isn't it what he wants from her?
Professionally, anyway.
She seemed open to coming to California for this. More, she'd
seemed intrigued by the case. So why does he feel so defensive
about Karin Berquist? He shouldn't have to justify how he met
her or what their relationship is.
Recent events have sensitized him to Scully's moods. She is
human, after all, and can also fall prey to human doubts and
fears. Yet it seems beneath her to be jealous. Even mentioning
the possibility to her is perilous. On the other hand, for them
the lines between the personal and the professional blur more
with each passing day. Before they got the X-Files back and
things were going to hell all around them, he'd been dismissive
of Scully's concerns. She'd turned out to be right, up to a
point. He has yet to truly acknowledge that to her.
Will it always be this hard? Will Scully question any and all
females who cross his path, and how will he be able to tell if
it's a personal or professional concern?
Maybe they are both seeing this through the filter of the
personal now. After their enforced togetherness in Arcadia,
he'd made an effort to show Scully how much he cared about
her not just as a colleague, but as the most important person
in his life. Maybe that gives her the right to feel a little
territorial about him, but not at the cost of the work. She
has nothing to fear as far as Karin Berquist is concerned.
He decides that he's making too much of it. He has to trust
that Scully is behaving professionally, and if it's something
different, she'll tell him. He does trust her.
x-x-x-x
"What's next, Mulder?" Scully asks at breakfast the next day.
She has decided to make the best of this. Karin or no Karin,
there is a crime to be solved. Mulder probably has something
up his sleeve.
"I don't know for sure. Maybe talk to Detwiler a little more
about the animal. What do you think about performing some
additional work on the bodies?" Mulder is making an effort,
too. He will not order Scully. He wants to engage her on
this.
"It seems odd --" Scully begins, but doesn't continue. She's
starting to go down a road she had resolved not to travel
last night.
Mulder raises his eyebrows. "Out with it, Scully. Odd how?
Odd is what we do, isn't it?"
Thank goodness Mulder expects resistance from her about the
case. It's not too late to make the argument about the case's
merits rather than his would-be informant.
But how can she accuse him of holding things back if she is
doing exactly the same thing? "I have to admit, Mulder, that
I don't always understand what motivates you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, this case."
"Is this where you ask me why I think it's an X-File?" Mulder
asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I don't disagree that there's plenty unexplained here. I'm
just curious about the selection process. It doesn't seem
connected in any way with anything we've investigated in the
past."
"I didn't think that was part of our criteria for selecting
a case. I find something worth investigating and I investigate
it. Isn't that the way it works?"
"I guess I'm wondering why this particular case," Scully
admits. "It's a long way to travel for a case that's already
under investigation."
"You don't think it has merit?" Mulder asks mildly. This is
a new variation on Scully's usual "how is this an X-File?"
argument.
"If we went by my standard of what merited investigation, there
are a lot of cases we wouldn't take," she says.
"No kidding," Mulder mutters before he can help himself, but
adds in a more conciliatory tone, "Okay, I'll bite. Give me
your best shot as to why we shouldn't be here." He turns toward
her with a half-smile, hands palm up as if to show his openness
to her.
She doesn't really want to argue about the case. She tells
herself to stop being such a coward about what she really wants
to say. She picks her way carefully. "It just seems, sometimes,
that you are...persuaded into investigating by someone who has
a vested interest in the outcome. That your sources know what
it will take to get your attention."
Mulder shrugs. "What can I say? My life's an open book. But
I don't think that's what you're getting at here." He raises
his eyebrows at her. Will she take the opening or not? It's
probably not the best time to get into a personal discussion
but their timing sucks most of the time anyway. He won't rebuff
her if she wants to talk.
Scully doesn't answer.
After a minute, Mulder says, "Don't worry," with a small smile.
"I may wear my heart on my sleeve, but that doesn't mean just
anyone can take it."
Scully lets it drop. The last thing she wants is a repeat of
the Diana debacle, and she's afraid that if she continues in
this vein, she will once again be accused of jealousy. It's
too late now anyway, they're already here. And it's not about
jealousy.
<But it is, isn't it? Not just concern for Mulder, but
competition for his attention. You've always known that his
work comes first. Why do you think things are different now?
And why should they be?>
Mulder's phone rings, calling them to the scene of another attack.
x-x-x-x
Despite common belief, wolves are not loners. Perhaps that
is why I felt I should seek Fox out once more. I wasn't prepared
for our initial meeting. I couldn't let down my barriers.
Especially not in front of someone else.
I notice his partner glance up at me and step away as I approach.
Is she so certain of him? I don't try to fool myself into
thinking that she is conceding territory.
Fox is more distant this morning. Am I the cause or is she?
My small joke to him falls flat -- the easy camaraderie we
shared online can't be recaptured in person. Strange that we
would have a closer connection from farther away. But here
there are too many distractions. Part of his attention seems
focused on his partner, part on the other activities relative
to the investigation. He introduces me to Detwiler -- and our
mutual dislike is immediate. If I had hackles, they would be
raised. He is implicated, I know it. Fox thinks so, too, but
not in the way I do.
Perhaps I have redeemed myself in Fox's eyes a little. When
I am able to show him the pawprints back at my place, he is
completely engaged, oblivious to his partner's sharp questions.
It is only when she leaves the room that he is distracted. She
is so protective of what she believes to be hers -- and yet she
doesn't seem to value him or his ideas.
I watch him go to her. I don't think he'll be here much longer.
She will find a way to lure him back.
x-x-x-x
The drive back to the motel is silent.
Maybe Scully really is jealous, Mulder thinks. All that talk
about women being tricksters. She's never had a very high
opinion of her sex. And yet she has more integrity than anyone,
male or female, that I've ever known.
I supposed I can't blame her for being distrustful of some
people's motives, but she seemed to have it in for Karin from
the first meeting. Why? What does she see that I don't?
x-x-x-x
I've said all I can say on the subject, Scully thinks. I've been
as plain as I can be without crossing the line.
What is it about men that they can't see an obvious play for
their attention? Even she could see Karin's reaction when he
touched her hand, and yet he remained unaware.
Except, of course, he hung on her every word. He couldn't
have flattered her more if he'd brought her flowers. To be
listened to, to be believed, is the ultimate compliment.
Mulder rejected her assertion of Karin's personal interest very
gently, but it was still a rejection. Scully has done what she
can. She will keep an eye on Karin, but she will not say
anything more to Mulder about her.
x-x-x-x
The autographed picture on the wall at the vet's office is
the last straw. As she drives back to Karin's alone, Scully
reflects on what she will say. Other thoughts intrude and she
tries to shake them away. She sees Diana's smug face in a room
full of agents, remembers her non-apology in the decontamination
ward.
Karin Berquist is no Diana Fowley, Scully tells herself. She
represents no danger to you, or to the X-Files. Maybe not even
to Mulder, except that she can't bear to see him disappointed
or deceived once again by something or someone who is other than
she seems.
The meeting is not successful in any way that Scully can
justify. Karin doesn't pretend to misunderstand Scully, but
she will not admit to Scully's assertions.
"You watch but you don't see," Karin told her. What the hell
did she mean by that? Scully sees plenty. More than Mulder
seems to, in this instance. Still, she can find it in her
heart to feel compassion for the solitary woman who has stood
so far outside the mainstream for so long that she mistakenly
believes Scully to be a part of it.
I'm as alone as Karin is, Scully thinks. No matter that we've
both chosen our own paths.
She will not pity herself.
x-x-x-x
I accused Agent Scully of not seeing, yet I'm as guilty. Lying
to Fox has only disappointed him. And yet when I throw him
another tidbit, he trustingly accepts it. I listen to his call
to his partner, calling her off the surveillance of Detwiler.
His stubbornness blinds him to the obvious.
I have deceived everyone here, including myself. Cyberspace
is as seductive as the wild -- you are your own creature there,
beholden to nothing and no one. Civilization is what gets us
into trouble: trying to maintain the veneer of what is considered
acceptable behavior. No too-raw emotions, no following of one's
instincts.
My instincts about Fox may have been wrong. He may want to
believe but he is more bound by society's rules than I
realized.
No matter. I can offer him one last bit of assistance, and
in so doing, save myself from the trap of my own making.
x-x-x-x
Scully is displeased with him, and she makes it plain. She
turns her back to him and it's not until she dozes off that
she relaxes her posture. He stays alert, though it is now
evident that their quarry is hunting elsewhere tonight.
He can't say that he blames Scully. He believed Karin over
her objections. On the other hand, why would Karin lie to him?
She seems to put a high value on the truth herself. She laid
herself bare when she confessed earlier that she had perhaps
pinned higher hopes on meeting him than he'd realized. Even
in the face of Karin's confession, he'd wanted to believe she
was telling the truth about Detwiler. He'd told Scully very
confidently that Detwiler would show up at the hospital to
finish Officer Cahn off.
Now he wonders if his wanting to believe Karin was just a
knee-jerk reaction to Scully's distrust of her. He'd like
to think he's better than that.
Or maybe he's just a jerk. He remembers the shocked look on
Scully's face when he refused to believe her about Diana
Fowley. He has been less harsh on this case, but nonetheless
just as reluctant to trust Scully's judgment.
Time to make a confession of his own. He stands up and wakes
Scully. "He's not coming here tonight," he says grimly. "Karin
knew that. She lied to me."
x-x-x-x
There is no joy in knowing that she was right and Mulder was
wrong. The very thing she hoped to protect him from has
happened anyway.
Her steps slow as she approaches the open door of the basement
office. It's well after office hours, but she knows he's still
there.
"Mulder?" she says softly. "Are you going home?"
He looks up at her, eyes bleary and defeated. There are still
wounds to be closed here. It's hard to be mad at Mulder when
he's so hard on himself. Instead, she tries to help him.
She asks, "Why wouldn't you believe her?" Sometimes the
wanting to believe is more seductive than the belief itself.
They both know that.
Before she leaves, she hands him the package she used as her
excuse to come down. She's pretty sure she knows what it
contains -- she'd noticed its absence from Karin's wall when
they went up to her office after finding her.
x-x-x-x
He sits staring at the poster for some time. What does he
want to believe? An easy phrase, a hard question. Easy to
want, much harder to express that want.
He wanted the X-Files back and he got them. He wanted Scully
back -- this is a little less certain. Maybe that's his
fault, too.
He wants to believe that the work they do is important to
both of them, and that it will make a difference somehow.
His personal cause has become more than personal now,
ironically. But at the same time, other wants and needs
have become more personal. Scully is now essential in all
ways, not just as part of his work.
Does she know this? Does she truly know this? He's made
a lot of assumptions but this is something that he should
no longer take on faith, perhaps. They'd both gone through
some pretty thorough shakeups of beliefs over the years, none
more than in the past year.
It's past time to say something about it.
Less than an hour later, there's a knock on Scully's door. She
is unsurprised but nervous all the same. She opens the door
and there he stands. He says nothing, just looks at her. She
can't read his expression. Panic? Sadness? There's more to
it than that.
She moves to stand aside, to let him in, and he steps up to
her, crowding her.
Instead of stepping back, she moves forward. He places his
hands on her shoulders and then up to cup her face. His thumbs
caress her cheeks and lips. He smiles, just barely, eyes not
leaving hers.
This time they move forward together.
...the end
=====