TITLE: That Partnership Thing
AUTHOR: aRcaDIaNFall$
FEEDBACK: arcadianfalls@yahoo.com.au
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Never Again. Set somewhere between seasons 4 & 7.
CLASSIFICATION: SRA
SUMMARY: The ups and downs of a day in the x-files partnership.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: More 'old school' fic... Aided by Australian off-season
programming (ie. no XF) I continue to happily deny the existence of XF
without M&S. Hope you like this one. :)
--> http://www.geocities.com/arcadianfalls/


That Partnership Thing (1/1)
by aRcaDIaNFall$


A shout of "Incoming!" as the ammunition hailed down. A ping as the
rusting barrell we were crouching behind was hit, then another and
another. Heart pounding, I glanced across at Mulder. There was intense
concentration on his face as he crouched, weapon flat against his
chest, gripped with both hands. In a quick move he poked his head
around the corner, pulling back again quickly. Several more quick,
sharp pings. I caught my breath. "What do you think?"

"Run for it," he muttered, glancing around. "There's three of them that
I can see, maybe more. There's better cover about ten feet away at one
o'clock. I'll pull out to the left and draw their fire. You make a run
for it, then try to take them out from there."

I nodded, my heart pounding even faster. My grip on the semi-automatic
was sweaty but before I could do anything about it, Mulder gave me a
quick shove. "Now!"

I took off, keeping low both to move faster and dodge the hanging
branches. I'd only gone a few steps when the first shot whizzed past
me, and I doubled my speed. Suddenly shots were ringing out all over
the place. I heard a cry and lost my momentum, almost stumbling. That
was Mulder. He was hit...
I hadn't stopped, but I had slowed enough. I felt an impact and sudden
stinging pain in my left calf, then another in my left shoulder. I
tripped, falling to the ground, the damp autumn leaves crunching under
me. Biting hard down on my lip at the sharp pain, I stretched out my
right arm, feeling the oozing wet, sticky patch. A hit. Wincing, I
cautiously touched my shoulder. Another hit. Damn. I was out.

Wiping my sticky yellow fingertips on my already paint-streaked
fatigues, I pushed myself upright cautiously, holding the weapon near
my ear and rattling it. Getting low on ammunition. 

Hands up in the air, I trudged across the field, ducking under the
lower branches. Mulder was already over there among most of the other
agents, grinning sheepishly. He'd taken a hit to the thigh. 

"They gotcha twice huh, Scully?"

"Looks like you weren't distracting enough," I retorted. 

He just grinned. "You've done your bit for girl power."


The last agent on our side was hit and the game won by the other side.
The whole group assembled, we were finally allowed to remove the heavy
helmets with protective face shield, thick plastic which had fogged up
every other minute and receieved its share of yellow splatter. Pulling
it off, I drew a deep breath, enjoying the slight breeze on my face,
freedom from the sweaty, restrictive prison. Mulder nudged me. Helmets
were being put back on, weapons picked up again. Time for another game.


We lost that round, but won the rest from then until lunch. Long tables
were set up in an outside cafeteria and they were serving lunch, but a
cold drink and freedom from the mechanics' overalls-style fatigues were
higher priorities, with overheated agents left and right stripping them
down to their waists. Out of the twenty agents there for the day, I was
somehow the only female. 
I could feel a few gazes on me, wondering if I was going to join the
rest of them. A little ironic, really - I was a single woman amongst a
crowd of young, intelligent, mostly-good-looking men, all bare-chested
or in sweat-soaked t-shirts, and all I could think about was whether
Mulder would think the workout top I had under the fatigues was
covering up enough, in that same way I'd always worried about Dad or
Bill disapproving of a short skirt or low-cut bathing suit.

He didn't seem to care, anyway. He'd jumped in the lunch line. Burgers
on the grill. I shrugged, pulling off the plastic breastplate then
undoing the buttons and peeling the sleeves off, then tying them around
my waist same-style as the guys. What beautiful relief. I felt like a
wounded bird taking flight again. I grabbed an icy bottle of water from
the bucketful provided and twisted the top off, gulping down several
mouthfuls, letting splashes spill on my chin and down my neck.

I recapped the bottle and then set it down on the scarred wooden table,
then wiped my mouth on my sleeve. If I was going to be one of the boys
I might as well get into the act. 
I glanced across at the lunch line. Everybody else had beat me there,
and I couldn't see much point in joining the tail end until it was a
little closer to the food, hungry as I was. 

I sat down on the long bench, toying with my drink bottle as I glanced
around. There was a TV up in the corner playing Jerry Springer and I
smiled as I saw one agent draw another's attention to it, starting to
tell some story with a series of bizarre gestures.

The bench sagged under me as Mulder sat himself down beside me. "Hope
you're hungry."

He pushed a laden lunch tray between us. Four huge tossed-together
burgers, shredded lettuce and tomato slippery seeds all over the place.


"There's only two of us here to feed, Mulder. Not an entire third-world
country."

He grinned. "I've seen you eat." Before I could respond to that, he
touched the lid of water bottle. "This yours?" 

I nodded. He picked it up, emptying it in a matter of seconds. Typical.

I didn't protest. After all, he'd gotten the burgers, monstrous as they
were. That comment about my appetite, on the other hand... 

I pulled the smallest burger closer to me, peeling the lid off to rifle
through the contents. US prime beef, lettuce, tomato, mayo and pickle.
Pickle? Yurgh. I picked it up between thumb and forefinger and dangled
it. "Mulder?"

He looked up, glanced at me, then the pickle, then back at me, an
eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Why'd you put a pickle on it?"

"Why not?"

"I don't like pickles on hamburgers."

"That's so unAmerican, Scully."

I waggled the offending slice impatiently. "Do you want it or not?"

He shrugged, taking the pickle and slipping it in his own burger,
taking a huge bite. "You're missing out."

I lifted my own burger up, tomato running down my chin as I took a
bite. When I tried to adjust my grip on the monstrous burger the tomato
slice slipped out, falling to the dirt ground with a splat. 
"Damn."

I looked up, and saw Mulder's eyes twinkling in amusement. 

"What are you laughing at?" I demanded.

Without a word, Mulder opened up his own hamburger again, fishing out a
tomato slice and putting it neatly between the folds of lettuce on my
own. "Now we're square."


After lunch we were back to the field for more games. The teams were
switched around but Mulder and I stayed together. Probably not a good
idea after all - we were outnumbered and we got our asses kicked. 

I had the womens' showers all to myself to wash off all the paint that
dried tacky in my hair and slimed its way under my sleeves, and to
examine the yellowing bruises that spotted my body. When I re-entered
the common area, feeling human again, there was still a long queue of
paint-splattered guys waiting, Mulder among them.

He grinned, stretching out painted and filthy hands. "Hey, Scully,
gimme a hug." 

"Sorry, Mulder," I answered smoothly, "but I think you're contagious."
I reached in my pocket, jangling the loose coins. "I'm going to get a
soda. You want something?"


We arrived back at the ranch just as they were beginning to serve
dinner. The rest of the agents were still finishing up the teamwork
activities we were scheduled to do tomorrow and so we got in first
while it was still hot. Mulder loaded all his broccoli onto my plate
and took my discarded chicken stuffing.
The program said there was to be a 'thinking in pairs' seminar at 7.30,
so I wasn't surprised when Mulder tugged me out a side door at quarter
past seven.

"Mulder, you know what people are going to think," I warned as he led
me quickly along the dusty red road. "Us sneaking off like this is only
going to be seen as confirmation we're engaging in a relationship
outside of our partnership... Besides, it's getting dark!"

"Twilight, Scully." He tugged me off the road and started pushing his
way through waist-high dry grasses. The ground was a little soggy under
us, squelching, and I winced.

"We should be at the seminar, Mulder."

"You don't seriously think we need help 'thinking in pairs', do you,
Scully?"
 
I drew a breath, annoyed at the assumption. "Actually, Mulder..."

He stopped. "What? You think we don't do that?"

"Mulder... When was the last time you consulted me on any decision?"

"You're saying I walk all over you?"

"No, that's not at all what I'm saying. I don't let you walk all over
me. But you don't think before you act... Sometimes it seems like you
don't think at all, but mostly you just don't take me into
consideration. You strap on your parachute and jump out of the plane
and I don't have much choice but to follow you."

"You do have a choice."

"Not if I don't want you getting killed." I sighed. "I'm just sick of
you making all the decisions, I guess. Sick of you being the driving
force and me just trying to keep up, trying to keep your back and mine
covered in the process. I just want to feel as if I'm making my own
choices, living my own life."

He put his hands on his hips. "So, what are you saying? You want to go
back to the seminar?"

"No, Mulder, I don't. I just want to know that you're aware of it. I
want to be able to tell you to back off or to let me drive for once." I
crossed my arms. "Mulder, we're partners... I'm not the little sister
or the daughter, I'm the wife. You get that? Fifty-fifty. I get to have
a say and you have to shut up and listen."

I could see his jaw set. He was annoyed, hurt, or both. I touched his
arm. "Let's go back, huh?"

He shook his head. "I want to stay out here. Enjoy the twilight." He
emphasized the last word and I half smiled. He gestured to a cleared
area a dozen yards away, with logs set up in a horseshoe shape around a
campfire ring. "Enjoy it with me?"

I shrugged, following him to the clearing. We sat side by side on an
uncomfortable log. Silence.

It was a beautiful view, admittedly. A breeze had picked up and was
tossing the long grass, and the valley was washed with pink by the
setting sun, the clouds stretched across the sky, glowing. I could hear
the horses in the distance.

"You really want me to do that?" he muttered, not looking at me. "Just
shut up?"

"Not all the time, Mulder. Just sometimes. You get carried away with an
idea and don't consult me."

He glanced at me sharply, lips curling up into a sardonic smile. "I
don't give you the chance to talk me out of it, in other words." 

I smiled sheepishly. "Something like that."

He dropped his head again, silent for a minute or two. "You really feel
like I'm controlling your life?"

"Sometimes. When I'm trying to juggle the two autopsies you've ordered
and the half-dozen background checks you need and packing for the
red-eye to Chicago you've booked us on, yeah."

"I've never booked us on a red-eye to Chicago."

"You know what I mean, Mulder. When it comes to most things at work I
don't get a say. You're the one rushing off with crazy ideas, I just
try and keep you from getting yourself killed, which means putting my
own life on the line."

"You never complained about any of this before."

"No, before I just went off and did something stupid."

His jaw set as he realised. "Ed Jerse."

"The most notable occasion. There's been others. God knows I love you,
Mulder, but you drive me crazy, sometimes. You suffocate me. I need
space and to have a say about what happens in my own life and you just
don't see it."

"How am I supposed to see it when you hide it from me?" he protested. 

"You just are, Mulder. It's that partnership thing." I stood, brushing
myself off, and offered him a hand up. "It's getting cold. Let's go
back."


We got roped into a set of physical teamwork exercises back at the
ranch, the sort of relays and things I remembered playing at summer
camp. The sort of things we'd be doing all day tomorrow, I thought
uncomfortably, they were all designed to get one partner thinking of
the other as an extension of themselves, knowing each others' strengths
and weaknesses, knowing thinking patterns and anticipating reactions.
All things Mulder and I somehow simultaneously excelled and failed in.


With an odd number of female agents, I'd ended up with a cabin to
myself. It was lights out at eleven and, after such a long, physical
day, I was asleep within a minute of hitting the pillow. 
My chirping cell phone woke me at midnight. I sat up sleepily,
switching on a light and rummaging through my luggage to find it.
MULDER, the display said in flashing green letters. I answered with a
yawn, "Scully."

"Hey, it's me." Quiet rapping came from the cabin door. "Let me in."

I groaned. "Mulder, I'm in bed."

"Come on, Scully. It's freezing out here."

I considered for a moment just leaving him out there to freeze. He
deserved it, no doubt about it. But against my better judgement, I
kicked back the covers. "Just a second." I hung up, tossed the phone
back down and slipped on my robe, then went over to the door,
unlatching it and holding it open to let him through.

He grinned at me sheepishly, ducking past me and rubbing his arms for
warmth. "Sorry, I thought you might still be awake."

"Mulder..."

"My roommate snores."

"And you came all the way to tell me that?"

"No, I came all the way to ask if I could bunk down in your spare bed."

"Mulder! You know what people would think if they found out you spent
the night here! It's crazy."

"Who's going to find out? C'mon, Scully, this guy sounds like a
lawnmower."

"No." I refused to back down. "If they find out, they might use it
against us, and I'm not going to take that risk. Sorry Mulder, but
you're just going to have to lump it."

"I'll set my alarm for five and sneak back to my own cabin."

"And you think that would look *less* suspicious? Mulder!" For a guy
who must have spent his teenage years sneaking around with girls, he
wasn't thinking very strategically. 

"Scully..."

"No!" I gave him a shove toward the door, not too rough but he winced.
I thought for a second that he was just stalling and demanded
impatiently, "What?"

He was still wincing. "You got one of my bruises."

I tugged him back into the light and pushed up his sweatshirt to take a
look. A small, rounded bruise from the paint pellet, yellow going brown
with a fading darker imprint from my hand. I dropped the shirt again.
"You'll live. If it makes you feel any better, I've got far nastier
ones."

"Worse than this?" He peeled up the hem of his sweatpants to show an
ugly bruise on his ankle. "Right on the bone. Still hurts like hell."

I tugged down the collar of my pajama shirt to show him a dark,
spreading bruises on my collarbone. He winced, touching it lightly.
"That musta hurt."

"Got hit there twice. Once before lunch, once right after."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I think you win worst bruise. But I think
I took more hits than you did."

"How many?" I'd counted thirteen bruises in the shower.

"Twelve or thirteen. Didn't do a proper count."

"In that case I think we're probably on par." I sighed, crossing my
arms again. "You really should go, Mulder."

He grimaced. "Yeah. Rumour has it we're rockclimbing tomorrow." Backing
up toward the door, I could see him mulling over something. "Scully..."
He paused, looking at me soberly. "I don't want you to think that your
life isn't your own."

I nodded. "Yeah. I know that." I reached to squeeze his arm gently and
he winced. I caught my breath. Another bruise? But no, he grinned.
"Just kidding."

I smiled, and gently pushed him out the door. "Goodnight, Mulder. Good
luck with the snoring."

"'Night Scully." He stepped outside, starting to pull the door closed
behind him. "And Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time we go somewhere, I'll let you drive."

I smiled. "Thanks, Mulder."

The door closed after him and I latched it thoughtfully. I didn't
expect Mulder to conform dramatically overnight. I didn't even want a
dramatic change. I just wanted some understanding, some freedom
occasionally. 

I shed the robe and climbed back into bed, switching off the lamp with
a sigh. A minute later I kicked back the covers and went back over to
the cabin door. He was sitting outside on the steps and grinned at me
sheepishly. I held the door open wide. "No talking, and you're back in
your own cabin by quarter to six. Agreed?"

He acknowledged it with a nod and a grin. "Absolutely. You're the
boss."


fin.