From netnews.upenn.edu!msunews!agate!uclink.berkeley.edu!madge Fri Dec  9 13:21:19 1994
Path: netnews.upenn.edu!msunews!agate!uclink.berkeley.edu!madge
From: madge@uclink.berkeley.edu (Peggy Mei-Ling Li)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: TRIALS- (1/?)
Date: 7 Dec 1994 04:09:46 GMT
Organization: University of California, Berkeley
Lines: 334
Message-ID: <3c3cia$fcn@agate.berkeley.edu>
NNTP-Posting-Host: uclink.berkeley.edu

This is a short piece I've whipped out in the midst of finals 
frenzy...inspired mostly by the topics in the Glen Morgan IRC chat.  
Sorry, but I don't know if it will get any longer...it just might.  :)  
Please stay tuned.

Until then, enjoy.  As always, comments, flames, suggestions, to :  
madge@uclink.berkeley.edu

NOTE:  Takes place sometime after "One Breath" and 
WATCHING THE SHIPS, but before "Firewalker." 

<all usual disclaimers here>

TRIALS - by peggy li,  December 6, 1994   

	"This is about all about sex, isn't it, Mulder."  Dana Scully 
cocked her head with a challenging gaze toward her partner.
	Fox Mulder pressed the "return" button and the machinery 
hummed to life.   Scully folded her arms and pursed her lips 
impatiently.  Mulder slipped his protective headphones around his 
neck and cupped a hand over one ear.
	"What was that, Scully?  I didn't hear you."
	Scully's fingers drummed along her arm and a smirk creeped 
to her lips.  "You heard me, Mulder,"  she goaded.  "Tell me it isn't 
true."
	"Now Scully, you know that sex is probably the cornerstone 
of the human psyche..."  Mulder could see he wasn't going to be 
able to get out of this one with scientific double-talk.  "Okay, yes!  
It is about sex.  There, I've said it,"  Mulder threw up his hands in 
defeat,  "most likely to the detriment of males everywhere."
	"Ah ha!  I knew it!"  Scully smiled in triumph, eagerly 
leaping upon Mulder's reluctant admission.  "Please, enlighten this 
lowly female of the species as to why she can't like the San Diego 
Chargers."
	"Scully, women are just not meant to watch football..."  
Mulder noted with alarm the look of simmering anger generating 
behind those sharp blue eyes, and hastily continued, "it's simple;  
women have more synaptic connections between the right and left 
sides of the brain."
	"What does that have to do with it?!"  Scully retorted, 
aghast at the sexist tripe her partner was dishing out.
	"These added connections make women more sensitive, 
more insightful,"  Mulder wondered briefly if Scully would attempt 
to connect with his face or simply pummel his solar plexus, or even 
more frightening, that her gun was still loaded, "and way too 
intelligent to sit around swilling beer and watching grown men butt 
heads for a living."
	Mulder watched with relief that Scully realized that he was 
attempting to gracefully diffuse their disagreement and the anger 
drained out of her face.  Scully reached for her target sheet and 
replied wryly,  "So what does it mean when a woman actually likes 
to watch the occasional game and swill some beers?"
	Mulder reached for his returned target as well, "Like you 
said, it's all about sex.  You know, those burly bodies, those tight, 
shiny pants...sometimes it can override even the most stalwart of 
individuals."
	Scully laughed, her teeth flashing;  Mulder was glad to see 
her so at ease- she hadn't been for quite some time.
	"Okay, but that's not the only reason I watch..."
	Mulder shook his head as he re-loaded his weapon.  "Oh no.  
It's all about sexual urges...people these days need constant 
stimulus."  He placed his 'phones back over his ears and took aim.  
"Admit it, Scully, sex is the dominant form of motivation and 
entertainment in our society..."
	"For some of us more than others,"  Scully replied 
pointedly.  Her answer was a barrage of distracted gunfire.  She 
smiled wickedly.
	Mulder quickly regained his composure as he hit the 
"return" button once again.  "Give me three good reasons why you 
like the Chargers."
	"My high school colors were blue and gold,  number 34 is 
very...physically fit, and  I can't help but root for an underdog."
	Mulder sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically.  "Women.  I 
rest my case.  At least you didn't say 'they have cute outfits.'"
	"Now that you mention it, Mulder..."  Scully replied 
teasingly.  "So, are we still on for Pete's?"
	"Only if we get around to finishing this training session, 
Agent Scully."
	Scully stared at Mulder's latest target sheet and pointed at a 
bullet hole a few inches away from a cluster of it's brethren.  "My, 
my, Agent Mulder, looks like you're the one who needs the 
training."  Scully held up her own target sheet, boasting a neat 
cluster of holes in the head of the black silhouette.  Mulder smiled 
at the competitive spark he saw in his partner's eyes and held up his 
gun in a mock show of bravado.
	"Oh yeah?  Just remember-  I have the bigger gun."
	Scully rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket for a new 
clip, unsuccessfully hiding her wide smile.  She murmured under her 
breath,  "Bigger gun, huh, Mulder?    I guess it is all about sex..."  
Mulder turned and looked at her sharply, Scully returning his gaze 
with wide, innocent eyes.  "You are absolutely right, Mulder, 
absolutely."
	Mulder couldn't imagine what his face looked like at the 
moment, but judging from Scully's reaction, it was quite amusing. 
	 After a minute she wiped the tears of laughter from her 
eyes and replaced her safety glasses, looking apologetically at a 
sheepish Mulder.  "Come on, let's do another round.  Worst 
percentage buys, okay?"
	"You're on."

	Scully and Mulder were the only two agents down in the 
firing range, understandable since it was early on a Sunday 
morning.   
	Upon her release from the hospital, the Bureau had ordered 
that Scully undergo a battery of tests before being re-instated as an 
agent, and Scully had decided to be as prepared as possible.  
Mulder had volunteered to help her prepare even though he himself 
wondered if she was ready to return to active duty.
	Her wit was as sharp as ever, but Mulder couldn't help but 
notice how pale and fragile she still seemed...and the toll of the 
abduction on her body was most likely nothing compared to the 
impact on her mind.
	Naturally Mulder was more than happy to have his partner 
back in his life-  he had missed her presence more than he liked to 
admit.  Still, it seemed he worried more about her now that she was 
out of the hospital than when she was in it.
	He tried hard to shelter her, and she was acutely aware of it;  
it was only a matter of time, Mulder knew, before he'd get scolded 
for being a mother hen.  But he couldn't help it;  for the first time in 
his life, he had someone who needed *his* support, instead of the 
other way around.   Great, he thought, the walking wounded.  
	He glanced over to the next booth and what he saw there 
made him pause, a chill going up and down his spine;  Scully's 
pleasant features were twisted into a snarl, her ruby  lips curling and 
revealing clenched teeth.  Mulder felt himself jump as the report 
from Scully's weapon blasted in rapid succession.  He looked away 
quickly, fumbling with the empty cartridge from his gun.
	"Mulder, what's wrong?"
	"Wha...?  Oh, Scully, nothing."  Scully gave Mulder a 
puzzled double-take before sliding back the bolt on her gun with a 
clack.  She was back- calm, cool, collected.  There was no fooling 
him, however;  he had seen the undiluted hatred, the look of pain 
and hurt, burning deeply in her eyes.   

	Mulder didn't bother going home to change before arriving 
at Pete's Sports Bar.  He expected Scully to still be in her suit as 
well, but apparently he had miscalculated.  After wading through 
the smoky entrance, he spotted her sitting at the bar in running 
pants, T-shirt, and hooded zip-front sweatshirt.  He almost didn't 
recognize her, except for the tell-tale auburn ponytail which jutted 
out through the vent in her baseball hat.
	He slid onto the barstool next to her and she turned, looking 
down her nose at him from under her cap. 
	"Mulder, you're late.  The game's already started."
	"Sorry,"  Mulder motioned to the bartender for a beer.  
Scully already had a bottle clutched in her hand.  "You're really into 
this, aren't you?"
	"I told you I knew the difference between a touchdown and 
a home run,"  Scully waved a greeting to an unknown group of 
questionable-looking individuals seated in a corner.  Mulder 
downed a gulp of his beer.  
	"I'm more of a slam-dunk person myself."
	"Did you come straight from the office?"  Scully eyed 
Mulder's crumpled-looking suit.
	"I've been down in the archives, catching up on  my reading.  
What about you?"
	"Had a short run.  Excuse me if I offend."
	"You're excused.  I often offend."
	Scully grinned at him and he reached up to loosen his tie.  
The beer bottle almost made it to his lips before a collective roar 
went up and Scully jostled his elbow as she put up her arms in 
excitement and whooped with enthusiasm.
	"How many drinks have you had?"
	"Come on, Mulder, they just scored."
	"Really, Scully,"  he was more than serious,  "how many?"
	Scully's lips pursed in annoyance and the merriment left her 
eyes.  "Just this one."  She picked up her bottle and took a sip.  
"Please, Mulder;  we're not at the office."
	Mulder looked at Scully, who suddenly had a drained, tired 
look on her face.  "Sure.  Sure, I'm sorry."  Scully patted his arm in 
thanks and turned back to the grainy television.  Mulder took 
another swig of his drink, amused, annoyed, and depressed all at the 
same time.  He had never seen Scully act this way before, but then 
again, he never really saw Scully outside of work.  He kind of liked 
it.  And he really hated it.  Shaking his head, he ordered another 
beer and decided he'd root for the Chargers.

	"Need a ride?"  his breath made a cloud in the chilly night 
air.
	"Nope, thanks.  Walking."  Scully zipped up her jacket and 
turned to proceed down the block.
	"Wait a minute.  I'll walk with you."
	Scully heaved a sigh, the swirl of vapors emphasizing her 
displeasure.  "Mulder..."  He fell into step beside her, drawing up 
his coat collar and jamming his hands into his pockets.  "Fine."
	They walked in silence for the first block, the sounds of 
their feet moving across the pavement loud and clear in the night 
air.   They stopped at a traffic signal, Scully pulling off her hat and 
shaking out her ponytail before sliding on her hood, shielding her 
face from him.
	"How 'bout them Chargers?"  Mulder ventured, keeping his 
tone as casual as possible.  Scully only turned and smiled at him 
slightly.
	"Nervous?"
	"About tomorrow?"  They began crossing the street at the 
signal change.  "No, not particularly."
	"You'll have no problem,"  he reassured.
	"Yeah."
	"Will I see you before?"
	"No, I think I'll go straight to the range and squeeze off a 
few extra practice rounds before the trial."
	"I'll take you to lunch afterwards."
	"Am I buying?"
	Mulder turned and regarded her, his feeling of concern 
unmistakable.  "No, Dana, this one's on me."
	Scully raised a surprised eyebrow at his words.  He was so 
damn tired of playing these games.  They trotted up the few steps 
to the entrance to her apartment complex.
	"Good luck."
	"Thanks, Mulder."  Scully paused, watching Mulder 
shivering without his trenchcoat.  "You want to come in for a 
minute?  Have a cup of coffee, you look like you're turning into a 
human popsicle."
	"N-no.  Thanks.  I think I better get back before my 
hubcaps go missing.  There's only so many times I can say that 
aliens took them."  Mulder smiled wryly and Scully laughed under 
her breath, giving him a small wave before dashing into the warmth 
of her flat.
	Mulder quickened his steps in an attempt to warm up, 
unable to shake the feeling that he actually wanted Scully to not 
pass her exams the next morning.  Feeling traitorous and very, very, 
cold, Mulder broke into a run.

	Scully poured herself a cup of tea to help clear the fuzziness 
from her brain, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the room.  
She wondered absently if Mulder thought she was coming onto him 
just then at the door, and thus refused to take a minute inside.  
Their night at Pete's was probably the closest thing to a date they 
had ever done.  After those first initial awkward minutes, Mulder 
had loosened up and enjoyed himself.  She had really had a fun 
time.  They had even made plans to go to the opening Knicks game;  
Mulder had made her promise.  She wandered out of her kitchen, 
easing onto her couch.  She hadn't thought about her and Mulder 
for quite some time now.  Well, that wasn't quite true.  She had 
already sorted through the emotions she felt upon seeing him at her 
bedside, the absolute faithfulness he had given her.  It had made her 
realize that they had grown very comfortable with each other.
	What if Mulder got a girlfriend?  How would that change 
their relationship?  Scully couldn't imagine it happening.  Why not, 
she couldn't say.
	What if they started dating?  Scully knew now that she must 
be exhausted.  There were times, early on, that she had considered 
the possibility.  But there were also times where she considered 
every male within a ten-mile radius as a possibility; it was only 
natural, for a single, intelligent, moderately attractive woman to 
keep her options open, to consider.  And yet, here she was, alone.  
And the remarkable thing was, she didn't mind in the least.
	So there wasn't the physical aspect of a relationship-  the 
touching, the contact.  But she certainly hadn't spontaneously 
combusted into a puff of smoke because of it.  Rather, she was 
being satisfied elsewhere in her life-  with Mulder.  He was a good 
friend and a terrible flirt.  And he also was fascinating, intelligent, 
and sincere.  She loved him very much, and wondered if he felt the 
same about her.  Often times she felt he did.
	"It's all about sex..."  She imagined herself and Mulder, in a 
passionate embrace;  it wasn't hard to picture.  If it was to happen, 
it would, naturally.  But really, their relationship was already so 
much more.
	And yet it wasn't.  So she thought again about the idea of 
Mulder with another woman.  She'd be jealous, but she'd accept it if 
it made Mulder happy.  Still, she couldn't see it happening.  It 
wouldn't feel right.
	Scully stood and moved to her liquor cabinet.  She fingered 
the bottle of bourbon, wondering if she'd have the dreams again that 
night, when she needed her sleep.  She turned away from the 
cabinet quickly, sucking in a sharp breath.  What would Mulder 
think of her like this?
	Dana made her way down the narrow hallway, relishing the 
idea of drowning out her tears with the splatter of hot running 
water.  

	Mulder climbed onto his couch, wishing he hadn't had that 
last beer.  Just the thought of he and Dana sitting in a bar, 
carousing, complete with beer and pretzels, made him want to 
retch.  It was so...inexplicably different...but also so unexplainably 
right.  He liked her;  no, he knew, he loved her.  A deep, complex 
love, one that he didn't mind letting run it's course, perhaps to no 
conclusion, because it was always fraught with surprises.  She 
trusted him;  but more importantly, she loved him.  He could see it 
in her eyes, when the light was right.  And why, he mused, didn't he 
do anything about it?  He could see his body easily responding to 
hers;  had, on occasion, imagined them wrapped in a romantic 
entanglement or two.  To do something about it would be 
effortless...but, for some reason, to do nothing about it was equally 
as easy.  Just as long as they remained together.  Mulder sighed, 
turning over on the narrow couch, trying to get comfortable.  It 
was a damned X-File, that's what it was.  
	After fishing around for a moment, the pea in his bed came 
out crumpled from the crack in the couch cushion.  Mulder 
unfolded the piece of paper, squinting at it in the dimly lit room.  It 
was a 776 form, a request to place a file with a case letter "X".  He 
had only half-completed this one, having stopped at the blank 
where he had managed to write "Dana K. Sc..."  and had stopped.  
Crumpling up the form in his hands, Mulder three-pointed it into his 
garbage can without even getting up from his couch.
	
	Dana never made it to the firing range early that morning.  
When she had driven into the garage, there had been a message 
waiting for her.
	
	Skinner smiled warmly at her from behind his desk.  Mulder 
had told her the extent of Skinner's actions during their situation, 
and Scully was grateful, if not wary, of this new-found ally.
	"Agent Scully, I've called you in this morning just to say 
that I support your return to the Bureau one hundred percent."
	"Thank you, sir."
	"Your trials begin this morning, do they not?"
	"They do."  Scully wet her lips.  "Early."
	Skinner took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes.  "Off the 
record, Agent Scully...I think you're a very brave woman."
	Scully, surprised, felt a smile leap to her lips unbidden.  "I'd 
prefer that to be on the record, sir."
	Skinner laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  Scully 
hadn't really noticed before that the man before her was attractive.  
It amazed her how people's perspectives were twisted by 
circumstance.
	"Dana..." he paused, as if uncertain whether or not to 
continue on such a familiar level.  Scully watched as the friendliness 
receded and Skinner's business tone reappeared, "You're a good 
agent.  I'm sure you'll have no problems with re-instatement.  I look 
forward to having you back on duty."
	Scully stood, nodding.  "Thank you sir, very much."  She 
gave him a warm smile and felt glad that he seemed to understand 
it.
	"Agent Scully."

	Dana took a deep breath after leaving Skinner's office.  It 
was very sad, in a way.  Here was a man who may have risked his 
career, if not his life, for her and her beliefs, and they could barely 
even exchange compliments.  Dana wondered briefly, with 
amusement, what Skinner would be like if she ever got him to join 
her at Pete's.  Checking her watch, she realized she needed to hurry 
if she was going to make her first exam.  The trials were about to 
begin.

