TITLE: Sneaking Out of Town
AUTHOR: Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: shoshana1013@excite.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere 
SPOILER WARNING: Everything through TF/OS
RATING: PG-13 (for language)
CONTENT WARNING: MSR, ScullyAngst
CLASSIFICATION: SRA
SUMMARY: Scully sneaks off to Phoenix to meet an
                    informant.  Consequences ensue as things
                    don't always go as planned...
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.
FEEDBACK: Would love it.


Sneaking Out of Town
By Shoshana


Friday night, several weeks after the Consortium is toast.

     I am in Phoenix, sitting in the parking lot of a bar on 
Seventh Street.  To get to this place, I had to lie to my Mom, 
Mulder and Skinner, book a phony trip to New York under my 
own name, then book a flight here under another phony name. 
My contact is to meet me in this bar ten minutes from now. 
Langley received an encrypted message from a German 
citizen who formerly in a Mufon chapter in Europe.  I 
knew the contact was a man, but knew nothing else about
him and was relying on the man's claim that he was well 
aware of what I looked like and who I was.
     He had information about Diana Fowley.  I knew Mulder had believed some
of what we tried to tell him, had searched 
her apartment, was fully aware of her connections with 
Spender, Sr.  I knew this would be breaking our implicit 
trust in one another and it wasn't making me a happy camper. 
But I couldn't tell him I was rushing off to Phoenix to find 
out dirt on his former wife and lover.  He clearly still had 
his doubts about her complicity with the Consortium.  Maybe
he felt she had been brainwashed along the way. Maybe he
felt they were holding her relatives hostage. He remained
reluctant to find her and find out what she knew and when 
she knew it.  It was such a dreadfully awkward situation for 
me by now that I had just quit trying to discuss it at all.
     Getting the X Files back relieved a bit of tension in our relationship.
We didn't rehash any of the events or speak 
of Diana, Spender, or the Consortium.  There would be time
for that, time to regroup and fortify our defenses. In the 
meantime, we were busy evaluating which cases cried out to investigated
first.  And there was the little problem of 
getting back into the office.  A lot of blood had been found 
there immediately after our meeting with Kersh and Skinner. 
It was Spender's blood type and a subsequent DNA test 
confirmed that suspicion.  And just as in the case of his 
father's shooting, no body was found.  We didn't get 
access to any of the files in the office for several days. 
We suspected Spender, Sr., but he had all but disappeared 
from the face of the earth.  Diana's apartment had been
abandoned and it still nagged me that she and Cigarette Man 
must have colluded with one other to some extent.
     So Langley sent out surreptitious messages to Mufon 
members he knew and trusted, asking for any data on Diana
Fowley's activities in Europe.  He was sworn to silence by
me, under penalty of I know not what...I just trusted that
he would be discreet. The other lone gunmen had no idea
what was up.  I just didn't want Mulder to know.  This was
my pursuit now and I didn't want his help, nor did I expect it. 
At least Langley knew where I was in case things got dicey.
      So I lock up my rental and enter the bar.  It's dark 
and smoky and it takes several minutes for my eyes 
to adjust.  My other senses are telling me that this is 
not your ordinary bar.  Judy Garland is singing in the 
background and the voices of the patrons here are mostly
male.  There's a heavy odor of cologne, laced with that of
several perfumes I recognized from department store 
counters I had recently been to around Christmas time. 
The crowd is a happy one and as soon as my vision improves 
I see that many of them are men dressed in drag. Marilyn 
Monroe, Judy Garland, Barbra Streisand and every other 
major star that had caught someone's fancy are standing 
and chatting it up or seated at booths enjoying the booze 
and the atmosphere.  A few women are there, dressed 
formally or not, comfortable in their surroundings and
laughing and talking animatedly with their male friends.  
     "Wow, I hope I got the address right this time..., " I 
mutter to myself.
      Ten seconds later, Bette Midler walks up to me.  At
least, it looks like a very good Bette clone.  She (he?) says 
"Hello Agent Scully, I'm Gerhard and I'm sure we can find 
a nice, quiet booth in the restaurant area."
       After a moment to assess this new development, I nod
affirmatively and we're off through a door adjoining the 
nightclub to a small restaurant, elegantly decorated with 
white linen and candles. We sit down at a table and Gerhard 
speaks first.  "I know this is perhaps a bizarre place to 
meet, but I feel very safe here and if you have been 
followed I doubt if anyone will recognize my true identity.  
I want to help you destroy Diana Fowley for she has 
helped destroy my friends in Germany.  Many of them 
have died after their abductions.  We just received the
knowledge recently that they shouldn't remove their 
implants.  It has saved some lives, but we mourn those 
women who've died from this treachery."
     I am taken aback at his directness and can't speak for
about a minute as I roll his words over in my head.  The
pent-up anger I have had toward my abductors sweeps 
through my body as I imagine all the others who have been 
subjected to the same fate and much worse.  Finally, I say, 
"Please don't apologize for your stealth, I know you are 
taking a huge chance here.  I haven't even told my partner 
about this meeting.  I may never do so, unless I can find
definitive evidence of Diana Fowley's criminal acts.  I don't
want to involve anyone else in this quest.  Not until it's crystal 
clear what she's capable of being and doing." 
    "You are wise to not tell your partner.  His personal 
attachment to her in the past seems to have clouded his 
judgment.  However, he is as human as anyone else.  This 
is completely understandable.  If you were not such a good 
friend of Langley, I would not have spoken to you at all.  
I'm more than a little nervous about being here tonight. 
But I must help you any way I can."
     "So, do you have this information in some physical 
format?"  I wasn't trying to rush him, but he did seem 
anxious to get back to the anonymity of the bar, away 
from the possibility of being seen with his contact.
     "Yes, it's on this disk that I am sliding under the table
to you.  There is only one other copy.  I have it in a safe
place.  I'm afraid that we can't stay here much longer. 
I have to go back to my friends next store before I am 
missed.  Agent Scully, pursue Diana Fowley, bring her
to justice.  For me and for my sister Lise.  She died last 
year.  We had removed her implant before we knew of its 
importance.  It was just too late for her, but I'll not rest
till I see the whole lot of them dead.  We just found out 
about El Rico.  We'd like to see the rest of them 
apprehended and brought to justice. It's the least we can 
do for our friends and relatives now."
     "Gerhard,  you're brave and unselfish to do this.  
I'll make sure Langley gets a message to you as soon as
there are any developments in the case.  I guess I can 
find my own way out now.   I'm so sorry about your sister. 
I know what it's like to lose one and I know we'll never be 
the same without them.  Thank you for everything."
     With a nod and a handshake from my companion, I
rise from the table and make my way back through the 
restaurant, through the club and almost make it to the 
door.  An unseen hand pulls me aside, into a hallway near
the john.  I was not feeling at all good about this.  I am 
getting ready to reach for my weapon when I recognize 
the man who has pulled me aside.  He isn't dressed in drag,
but he has on nightclub attire and looks many years older 
than when I had last seen him, at the Academy.  
     "Scully, what the hell are you doing here!  I haven't 
seen you in over six years, or is it more like seven?"
      "Brian, what are you doing here?  Are you undercover?"
      "You bet I am." he whispers.  "There have been some 
local murders that we've finally been able to connect to 
a suspect who frequents this place.  I'm staking it out 
till we get him.  I thought you were still working with 
Spooky on the X-Files."
      "I still am.  But I'm just here on vacation.  I was 
visiting with an old friend and we just came here for 
a drink.  I'm so glad to see you, but I think I better
leave before I compromise your operation."  
       "You're probably right.  Hey, here's my card.  
Look me up and maybe we can have dinner before you 
leave town."
     I am really anxious to get-out-now and I simply nod 
and smile and say goodbye.  Jeez!  I hope to God he's 
not a chatterbox.  All I need now are rumors filtering 
back to Washington that Mrs. Spooky was investigating 
mysterious lights over Phoenix last weekend.  I head
for the door, walk to my car and get in the front seat. 
I immediately sense that something is wrong here.  
It sure is.  A gun is thrust between my ribs and I glance
at the backseat behind me.  Oh shit.  Krycek, and without
his pretty wig.
     "What the fuck are you doing here!,"  I scream at him.
     "Just what I was about to ask you, Scully."
      "You followed me here from Washington?  For what, 
so you can victimize me more than you've already done!"
     "I didn't kill your sister.  You have to believe that."
     "I'll never believe that.  So let's not even waste time 
discussing it."
      "I'm on your side.  I turned Spender against his 
father.  I saved Spender from his father.  There is much
you don't know yet and may never know.  But I'm not the
enemy.  You've got to cut me some slack, here."
     "I'll cut you some slack if you take that gun out of 
my ribs."
     "Look, I just have to know why you came all the way 
out here to some obscure bar in Phoenix.  And I'm sure 
Mulder doesn't know where you are or he would have 
followed you here.  I'm damn sure of that."
      "Look it's none of your damn business what I'm doing 
here.  Mulder is not my keeper.  I'm free to come and go 
as I please."
     "Under an assumed name?"
     "Under any name!"
     "I can help you.  I can help you find what you need."
     "You don't know what I want!"
     "You want Diana, right?"
     I sit still as a stone, fearful that he can detect from 
my body language that he is correct in his assumption.  I 
am getting more and more angry.  Ready to explode.  But 
it's just impossible to get to my weapon.  I had concealed 
it so cleverly when I went into the bar that it is 
inaccessible, particularly when a large gun is jammed 
into my ribs.
      "Yeah, I'm right," he says cockily, not waiting for my
verbal reply.
     "So what if you are.  What are you going to do about it?"
     "Actually, nothing.  I just thought I'd pay you a visit and 
tell you what the score is.  Tell Mulder.  I'm sure he'll be
interested in how you came to meet up with me.  In Phoenix. 
Behind his back."
      "Fuck you, Krycek!"
      "It would be my pleasure to fuck you, Scully.  But, I'm 
running a little low on time here.  Just remember, don't 
assume I'm on the wrong side now.  I've been working both
of them so long, it seems that my life has been split in two. 
But believe me, I'm not your enemy now, nor in the future.  
I just had to let you know that.  Before push comes to shove.
Before invasion is imminent.  Know I'm  a friend, not 
a foe."
     With those words, gun still sticking in my ribs, he pulls 
my face around to his and kisses me squarely on the mouth. 
It's a big, messy, sensual kiss.  And it surprises the hell out 
of me.  No time to struggle out of it, no time to protest.  It 
lasts seconds, but seems to go on forever.  He quickly slides
across the back seat and exits the vehicle.  I'm still in shock.  During our
conversation, my body had gone into a state of
suspended animation, just trying to deal with the horror of
being held captive by a man I have considered my mortal enemy.  
My body is finally reacting to it all.  I'm shaking like a leaf
and my stomach almost loses all of its airline food.  But I
have enough presence of mind to flip the door locks, get my 
weapon out and have it ready to go on the seat beside me. 
I start the car's engine. Dammit it all.  No one will ever take 
me by surprise again, dammit.  I'm so damn mad.  I hadn't 
wanted to arouse any suspicions in the bar so I had concealed
my gun too well.  I had been helpless.  Helpless, with Krycek in
my face.  Quite literally.  I peal out of the lot and drive back
to the Holiday Inn more recklessly than I have ever driven in a 
strange city.   Fortunately, I make it there without incident, 
rush to the room, pull the door behind me and collapse on
the floor in the foyer.  Jesus God.  Check for the disk. 
Disk is where you put it.  How can I tell Mulder that
I snuck around Phoenix digging up dirt on his ex-wife,
was kidnapped by Krycek (ever so briefly), and that this 
low-life killer is now our best buddy in the whole wide 
world!  Don't think so.  He'll never know.  Langley will cover
for me. He'll say he found the info about Diana.  The only 
loose end is Brian.  Damn!  How many goddamn old friends 
do I have ready to bump into me at a moment's notice!
    I pull myself up, double-lock the door and start drawing
a bath. Might as well enjoy myself since I paid for this room.
After a long, hot bath and two hours of mindless television 
I nod off to sleep.

Saturday morning

   Its the next morning and I'm flying out of Phoenix.  It is a
boring and worrisome ride. I sure hope no one has caught on 
to my whereabouts.  When the plane arrives in D.C. there
is no one there to meet me at the airport, thank God.  If there
had been, my plan would've been even more screwed up than it already is.
Two people had seen me in Phoenix.  Two ways for Mulder to find out that I
was skulking about, trying to dig up 
dirt on Diana.
    I call Langley at home.  
     "Hey Scully, Mulder's been bugging us all day about you. 
I didn't breathe a word. Is everything O.K.?"
      "Yeah, I suppose you could say so.  Do you think he 
suspects anything?"
      "I don't know.  I told him that if wanted to know where
you were he should improve his surveillance equipment.  He 
just laughed at that suggestion.  Better inspect your ceilings, 
though!"
     "Oh very funny, Langley.  Thank you so much for your help.  Gerhard was
a very nice guy.  I think we may have some solid 
info on Diana.  I haven't had a chance to look things over yet,
but you know that's what will take up the rest of my day.  
Thanks again."
     "Sure thing.  You take care now.  Bye."
     I hang up the phone, tear off my street clothes and 
change into sweats.  Mulder will be coming over any 
minute now.  I'm sure of that.  I want to look at the
disk before his prying eyes are anywhere near my computer. 
     Several hours laters there's a knock at the door. A Mulder 
knock.  I yell for him to wait a minute.  I hide the disk in a 
drawer and shut the computer off before answering.
      "So, where were you last night?"
     Mulder is going for the annoyingly direct approach.  This 
only makes me angry and he senses that in my scowl.
I say nothing.
     "Uh, Scully. I'm not trying to intrude on your privacy, but
I've been worried about you leaving anywhere unannounced 
ever since the dam incident.  I really just had your best 
interests in mind..."
     I almost believe this line of crap.  But he has already been
bugging Langley, et al. about me all day.  I left a phony
message with my mom that I was staying over in Georgetown
with an old college friend.  Why hadn't he asked her where 
I was?
      "Didn't you call my Mom?  She would have told you I was
in Georgetown with Louise."
     "Well, actually she's not in town either.  Maybe she took 
off with some friends herself."
     "I appreciate your concern, but I have a life outside of the
X Files, and sometimes I just want to live it without being 
investigated by my over-protective partner."
     Oh God, I'm sounding awfully bitchy about this.  What if
he truly was concerned?
      "O.K., I get the picture.  You've got a guy somewhere 
and you'd rather that I did not know the details.  I can 
take a hint and I'll be leaving now and see you on Monday..."
     Oh shit.  That's not what I intended him to think.  Oh shit.
One unsolicited kiss from a murdering bastard must be 
plastered all over my face.  Or at least the guilt I bear 
for putting myself in such an awkward, stupid position, 
unprotected by either my partner or myself.  Jeez, think 
fast, think fast. What to say, what to do...
      "No Mulder, there's no guy that I'm hiding from you. 
As a matter of fact, when I decide to start a new 
relationship, you'll probably be the first to know."
     Intelligent as he is, he can be the dumbest man on earth 
at times.  He simply doesn't understand what I've just all but
declared to him.  I watch his face go through varying degrees
of puzzlement before grabbing his stupefied face and laying
a huge, wet messy kiss on his bewildered lips.
      "There, see what I mean, you overbearing, snoopy oaf!"
     Oh my God, I've really done it now.  I've really screwed 
things up now.  He looks like he's been hit by lightning, his 
eyes as wide as saucers, his mouth draws into a huge O. His 
body bends over slightly like he's been kicked in the stomach. 
He remains like that for an eternity of seconds, then 
straightens himself, shakes his head, looks over at me and
says, "Uh, uh, Scully.  Uh, uh.  I didn't know. I just didn't 
know."
      With my eyes blazing at him I say, "Well, you've forced 
a confession out of me.  Now, do with it what you will.  But
don't ever accuse me of sneaking away to some secret
rendezvous with an imaginary lover that doesn't exist. 
Because he doesn't.  He doesn't and he never will. 
Only...you...do.  And I really don't know if I'm even up
to discussing this right now.  I was afraid you still had feelings 
for Diana.  I wanted to be sure before I even dropped a hint. 
You've forced it out of me and I guess we'll just have to live 
with that, whatever the consequences."
     My angry tirade had given him time to absorb this turn of
events and his shocked expression slowly turned to one of bemusement.  By
the time I was done jabbering away at the 
speed of light, he was moving toward me with a very 
unpartnerly look in his eyes.  His eyes gleam hazel-green-gold
in the morning sunlight as he grins widely and gathers me 
up in his arms, first kissing my neck, then my chin, then 
my mouth.  We hold tight to one another as we kiss
passionately, releasing years of frustrated emotions.  
Years of verbal foreplay; years of meaningful, yet
respectful touches; years of silly doubts that it would ever 
come to this.  Hey, I thought.  I'm definitely leaving
town without a whisper to him more often.  But then, 
why would I want to now?

Several weeks later

     We're in the office and Mulder has just received a phone 
call.  I'm reviewing my notes on a case we just finished so that
we can head up to Skinner's office and discuss it this 
afternoon. My head springs up like it's attached to some 
imaginary rubber band above my head when I hear what's
being said...
     "Oh Brian, oh she's finally in the office now.  I'm sure 
she'd love to hear how sorry you were to have missed her 
on your way through town.  Let we get her on the phone
right now."
     My eyes are screaming bloody murder at him right now. 
I gather that he's already had one conversation today with 
Brian.  I am furious as hellfire and I make it through a cordial,
little chat with Brian before slamming down the phone in anger.
     "O.K., we're even.  I left without telling you.  You found out
where I went.  Goddammit, if it weren't for that undercover
job Brian was on, he would never have gotten in touch with me." 
I realize that I have provided more information than is really necessary
here.  Mulder is looking straight at me, avidly
inquiring with his eyes just what undercover job I had stumbled
upon in Phoenix.  Shit, shit. shit.
     "So this must have something to do with the disk that's not
yours in your desk?," he says with a smile.
     "How you dare you rifle through my possessions!"
     "Well, considering I've been living at your apartment for
three weeks now, it was bound to happen...You've just been a
little too distracted lately, Scully.  You forgot to conceal 
evidence of your little trip to Arizona.  And now, I wonder how willing good
ole Brian would be to tell me about his undercover
assignment.  He seemed like a very friendly fellow to me..."
     The sarcasm only ends when my handbag goes flying 
through the air and whacks Mulder in the head.  He cringes,
none the worse for wear, and laughs heartily at my misery. 
He only stops when he realizes how hard I am taking all of 
this. 
      I am now sitting at my desk, head in hands, shedding 
way too numerous and too easily shed tears for what must 
seem to him a silly, inconsequential situation.  He hasn't a
clue what I'm really sobbing about.  I'm not embarrassed
about the disk.  I met the informant out of love and concern
for Mulder.  And I'm not even concerned about whatever 
Brian may or may not have to say about his damn assignment in Phoenix.  What
is eating me alive is the memory of being 
vulnerable to Krycek.  I was unable to ward off his malevolent advances,
unprepared to defend myself against captivity, rape, perhaps death.  If
Krycek had had a bit more time to spare,
he might have done what he pleased, despite his outward
declaration of friendship.
     Mulder rushes over and envelops me in his arms.  He holds
on tight, very tight and tries to lift my face so that he can 
look into my eyes.  He thinks he's gone too far in his teasing, 
not cognizant of the real reason for my woe.  It will never
matter if he doesn't know.  He'll never know as far as I'm concerned.  If
Krycek turns out to be an ally,  I don't want
Mulder assassinating him on the spot for holding me hostage
ten miserable minutes.  Krycek will never bother me again. 
Next time I'll be ready for him.  I'll never be vulnerable again.
     My tears have subsided.  I am wiping them up with Mulder's
handkerchief and he is sitting across from me with an infectious,
affectionate grin on his face.  I know I've made it through this 
trial.  He'll never know what really happened in Phoenix. 
He won't bring it up again.  He'll let it go of it and move on. 
No dummy, my Mulder.


end