Collage by Melanie - archived at Moments: Melanie's X-Files Artwork

TITLE:  Conversation Hearts V: Woman's Intuition
AUTHOR:  Lara Means
E-MAIL:  LaraMeansXF@aol.com 
CLASSIFICATION:  SRA
RATING:  R (for language)
ARCHIVE:  Gossamer, NO; Spookys, NO (I'll submit directly to 
both); Ephemeral, YES; Xemplary, YES; anywhere else, YES, but if 
possible please let me know

SPOILERS:  LOTS.  Specific (if sometimes vague) mentions of 
people and/or events in the Pilot, Squeeze, Lazarus, Young at 
Heart, Little Green Men, The Host, Ascension, One Breath, 
Anasazi, Grotesque, Terma, Redux II.

SUMMARY:  Mulder comes to terms with his 'spooky' reputation, 
with a little help from Scully and a new friend.

DATE POSTED:  04/26/00

FEEDBACK:  Encouraged and welcomed at LaraMeansXF@aol.com

DISCLAIMER:  "The X-Files" is copyright Twentieth Century Fox 
Television and Ten Thirteen Productions.  The show, its premise 
and characters were created by Chris Carter and are used here 
without permission.  No copyright infringement is intended, no 
profit will be realized.  (I've also borrowed the name of a 
character from Carter's "Millennium" as a pseudonym.  Same 
disclaimer applies.)

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This story is part of the Conversation Hearts 
series.  You don't have to read the others to 'get' this one 
-- just know that Agent Parker and the case she's working are 
prominent in "Taking Care of My Partner."  (see end notes)

I have no idea if the position within the FBI that I've given 
Agent Parker actually exists.  I don't think it really matters 
all that much; it served my purposes.  Special thanks to Andrea 
for assuring me this little story doesn't suck and encouraging 
me to post it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WOMAN'S INTUITION

by Lara Means

FBI Training Facility
Quantico, Virginia
Wednesday, February 23, 2000

In my ten-year career, I think I've been inside the J. Edgar 
Hoover Building maybe half a dozen times.  Not a lot, when you 
consider it's FBI Headquarters and I work for the FBI -- but most 
of my career has been spent at Quantico.  In addition to teaching 
at the Academy, my job with the ISU for the past few years has 
been as the Bureau's liaison to the various law enforcement 
agencies here in Virginia.  If, say, the Virginia Beach police 
need the FBI's help with some rowdy kids on spring break, they 
call me and I decide if it's worth our time and effort.

Last Saturday afternoon I was having lunch with Josh in one of 
those rare moments when he could actually take the time to eat -- 
he's an ER doc at Georgetown Memorial, and the hours are killer 
-- when my cell phone rang.  It was the Richmond PD, a Detective 
Chandler, who told me they'd uncovered a mass grave in a vacant 
lot.  Could the FBI help out with recovering, autopsying and 
identifying the bodies?  I sent out a forensic excavation team, 
then called the head of pathology at Quantico.

That's how I met Dana Scully.

I'd heard stories about her, of course.  How she was a gifted 
pathologist, could've been on the fast track to replace the guy 
who called her in on the case.  Then Section Chief Blevins gave 
her an assignment, one that should've lasted six months at most 
but somehow became her life's work.  After Blevins killed 
himself, the grapevine had it that he was dirty, and that 
speculation cast some doubt on a lot of the agents he had 
supervised or given assignments to.  But Dana Scully -- there was 
never any doubt about her.  Dana Scully was stand-up, even went 
to jail once to protect her partner.  And she was a damn fine 
field agent, too -- she and her partner had an incredible solve 
rate, higher than any other division in the Bureau.

No, what fueled the rumor mill about Dana Scully was her partner.  
Spooky Mulder.

I'd heard stories about him, too.  *Lots* of stories.  I was a 
couple of classes behind him at the Academy, and the stories had 
already started.  How he was this incredibly brilliant profiler, 
like nothing anybody had seen since Frank Black.  That he had an 
uncanny ability to crawl inside the killer's mind.  Criminal 
profiling isn't like that, not really.  You go to a crime scene 
or read the reports and look at the photos, you study what the 
UNSUB left for you to study, then you extrapolate from that.  
Hell, Ressler and Douglas did most of the work for us years ago.  
But Spooky... Spooky went beyond Ressler and Douglas, beyond 
simplistic categorization.  He really *did* get into the killer's 
head -- by the time he was done, sometimes he was even thinking 
the killer's thoughts.

Bill Patterson latched onto him right away, recruited him to VCS 
straight out of the Academy.  And that pissed the hell out of the 
rest of us, the agents like me who wanted to be profilers too.  
*We* had to go through all the prerequisites -- grunt work at a 
field office somewhere in America's Heartland (I got Memphis, 
which wasn't bad), then working our way up to become a profile 
coordinator someplace else (Albuquerque, which was just too 
fucking hot).  Not Spooky.  He went straight from Oxford to the 
Academy to his vaulted position as Patterson's Golden Boy.  He 
was what the Bureau Boys Club refers to as a Blue Flamer -- means 
you've Got It, you're On Your Way.  Female agents are rarely Blue 
Flamers -- the Boys Club figures we're all on the wife/mommy 
track, and in their opinion the two are incompatible.  Dana 
Scully was probably the closest thing we female agents had to a 
Blue Flamer, before Blevins introduced her to Spooky.

Spooky had some weird ideas, which is where lots of the later 
stories came from, after he left VCS.  He'd stumbled across a 
bunch of case files that were outside the Bureau mainstream -- 
stuff about UFO sightings, alien abductions, monsters, 
conspiracies, that sort of thing.  Spooky embraced the X-files, 
and got pretty good at solving those cases, however unorthodox 
his rationalizations were.  That's why Blevins sent Dana Scully 
to him.  With her hard-science background, she was supposed to 
debunk Spooky's work, to call into question those offbeat 
explanations -- essentially to humiliate him into going back to 
profiling full-time, to fulfilling everyone's expectations of 
him.  What Blevins and whoever was pulling his strings didn't 
count on, though, was that *her* work actually *validated* his.

They also didn't count on them becoming, shall we say, *close*.  
Male-female partnerships are always subject to rumor and innuendo 
-- I'm supposed to have slept with every guy I've ever been 
partnered with, even the married ones, even the gay ones.  But 
with Dana and Spooky, it seemed pretty plausible.  As partners, 
they were really dedicated to each other -- an offer to join VCS 
couldn't pry her out of the X-files, and there were stories of 
how they worked together surreptitiously even when the higher-ups 
officially closed the division and reassigned her to teach at 
Quantico.  Hell, she even shot him once -- on purpose -- and 
*that* didn't split them up.  What got the stories going in 
earnest was that time she was held hostage by an old boyfriend, 
an agent gone bad -- Spooky was beside himself with worry, a 
worry that appeared to some on the recovery team to be a bit more 
than simple concern for his partner's safety.

But what threw the gossip-mongers into overdrive was how Spooky 
reacted when Dana went missing.  She'd been kidnapped by an 
escaped prisoner, then she just disappeared -- and he went nuts.  
He was even suspected of killing the guy who took her, although 
that was later dropped.  I know his AD was worried about his 
mental health, and I don't think he was alone in that.  But when 
Dana was found, Spooky went even more crazy.  Josh was interning 
at Northeast Georgetown Medical Center, where she was, and told 
me Spooky had to be dragged out of the hospital by security, 
ranting and raving like a lunatic.  I also heard -- fourth-hand, 
so I don't know how accurate the information is -- that he tried 
to resign when it looked like she was going to die.  She 
recovered, of course, and by all indications they went on just as 
they had before -- but the gossip train had already left the 
station.

I actually saw them together once, not long after that thing with 
her ex-boyfriend.  At Reggie Purdue's funeral.  I think he and 
Spooky had been partners once upon a time -- I know Purdue was 
one of the few people in the Bureau who actually admitted to 
liking him.  They'd been working a case with some similarities to 
one they'd worked before, one of Spooky's first.  Purdue thought 
it was a copycat -- the guy was dead, had been dead for a few 
years -- but Spooky was convinced he either wasn't dead or had 
come back somehow.  Sadly, Purdue paid the price for Spooky's 
weird ideas and was killed in the line of duty.  The funeral was 
well-attended -- everybody liked Purdue -- but I think a lot of 
them went hoping for a chance to see Spooky and Dana together in 
the flesh.  I know it was in the back of my mind, and I'm pretty 
damn ashamed of that now.

I stood near the back of the crowd and just watched them 
together.  I'd never seen him before, not even a picture, so I 
had no idea what to expect.  He was tall, built, *very* good 
looking.  Quite a shame that he was so damn weird, otherwise he'd 
have had women falling all over him -- *this* woman, anyway.  But 
by that time the Spooky Legend was entrenched, and I didn't have 
the guts to brave those still waters.  Besides, I'd just met 
Josh, and I couldn't ignore the way my mom's eyes lit up when I 
told her I was dating a doctor.

During the service, Spooky stood like a statue near the front, an 
almost haunted look in his eyes.  Dana stood next to him, just a 
tiny bit closer than might've been wise had either of them given 
a damn about appearances.  At one point, Spooky looked like he 
might be about to crumble -- Dana leaned closer, put her hand on 
his arm and whispered something to him.  Whatever she said seemed 
to work -- Spooky took a deep breath, she gave his arm a little 
squeeze and dropped her hand.  He was okay after that.

That was the last time I'd seen her, until this case.  As much 
time as she seems to spend at Quantico, our paths never really 
crossed before -- probably because she spends all her time in the 
morgue, a place I steadfastly avoid if at all possible.  I was 
glad the path chief had called her in on this -- she's a damn 
good pathologist -- but I wasn't prepared for her visit to my 
office on Tuesday.  When she suggested I talk to Spooky.

"You really think this is up his alley, Agent Scully?"

Her eyes narrowed a little.  "What I think, Agent Parker, is that 
Mulder is an exceptional profiler and you'd be lucky to have him 
consult.  I also know that his case load is a bit light right 
now."

I studied her for a minute, still trying, as I had from the 
moment I met her on Saturday, to determine if the rumors were or 
had ever been true.  I mean, it was possible that they'd been 
lovers years ago and weren't anymore.  But she's a cool customer 
-- all I saw when I looked at her was her legendary fierce 
loyalty to her partner.  The thing was, though... I liked Dana 
Scully.  Aside from her devotion to the X-files and Spooky, she 
was well thought of in the Bureau.  People respected her.  I was 
even hoping we could be friends -- after all, we female agents 
have to stick together.  So, in the interest of potential 
friendship, I nodded.  "I'll give him a call."

The smile was fleeting and almost imperceptible, but I caught it 
anyway.  And I wondered about them some more.

Of course, my conversation with Spooky did nothing to dispel his 
reputation -- premature aging, indeed.  Dana did her best to 
convince me he was kidding.

"He doesn't really believe that, Agent Parker.  Sometimes he... 
he likes to screw with people's heads, to feed into their 
expectations of him.  Mulder has a very... unique sense of 
humor."  She paused, bit her lip a little, then took a step closer 
to my desk.  "Carrie... you know he's good at what he does."

"I'm no slouch at profiling myself."

"I know that.  I just..."  She broke off then, and I could see 
this war going on inside her -- she was trying to redeem him a 
little in my eyes, but she didn't want to plead a case for him 
because that would be unseemly.  Finally, I stood.

"You're right.  He's very good at what he does.  And I am lucky 
to get him.  I told him I'd send the files over, we'll see what 
he comes up with."

She smiled for real this time.  "Thank you."  She turned to go.

"Dana."  She paused at my office door.  "Thanks for the 
suggestion."  She nodded, I nodded, she left, I sat down and 
gathered the files to send to Spooky.  As an afterthought, I 
wrote a note to go with them -- 'It was good talking with you 
today.  Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this.'  An 
olive branch.  From what I'd heard, Spooky wasn't exactly anti-
social, just cautious about who he trusted.  By all indications, 
he had reason to be cautious -- there were rumors about several 
agents who'd been connected with Spooky over the years.  As far 
as I could tell, there are only two people in the FBI that Spooky 
Mulder trusts -- his AD and his partner.  And I don't think he's 
entirely certain about his AD.

Spooky and I talked again late Wednesday afternoon.  I was 
surprised -- he'd finished his profile already, said he'd have 
everything messengered over the next day.  I took a chance, told 
him I had to be in DC on Thursday anyway, I could just stop by 
his office and go over it with him.  He hesitated.  I waited, 
leaving the decision up to him.  Finally he said, "Sure.  What 
time?"

"How's eleven-thirty?  Then, if you and Dana don't have plans, 
I'd like to take you both to lunch.  My way of saying thanks for 
all your help on the case."

He went silent again.  I could almost hear the wheels turning as 
he tried to figure out my angle.  "I don't know, I'll check with 
Scully."  Then he hung up.

Okay.  There's cautious, and there's Cautious.  Spooky was 
definitely Cautious.

FBI Headquarters, J. Edgar Hoover Building
Office of Special Agent Fox Mulder
Thursday, February 24, 2000

I clipped my ID badge to my collar, asked for them at the Hoover 
Building security desk, and was directed to take the elevator to 
the basement.  Hmm.  Among the Spooky Stories I'd heard was that 
he and Dana had buried themselves all alone in the basement -- 
the more lurid rumors held that it was to make it easier to carry 
on a sexual relationship away from prying eyes.

I stepped out of the elevator and moved quietly among the storage 
boxes lining the walls.  I was glad I'd worn my loafers -- not 
that I'd *intended* to eavesdrop...

As I approached the lone office, I heard them.  Not arguing 
exactly, because there was no anger in their voices -- but he was 
adamant.

"Scully, you know I would do anything for you.  Don't ask me to 
do this."

"Mulder, what are you afraid of?"

"You think I'm afraid of her?"

"I think you're still a little afraid I'm going to leave you."  
My mouth fell open at that.  His voice went really low and I 
almost missed what he said next.

"No, Scully, not anymore, you know that..."

"And I think you're afraid of getting out of the basement, even 
for a little while."

"We get out of the basement all the time."

"You know what I mean.  Getting to know people, making friends, 
playing nice with the other kids.  Mulder, you can't hide out 
down here forever."

"Is this about my career?  Scully, we both know I'll never make 
assistant director.  What difference does it make where I do my 
time?"

"It makes a difference because I believe in you.  Because I care 
about you."  Her voice got soft.  "Please?  For me?"

I heard him sigh, and decided now would be a good time.  I 
stepped forward and knocked on the open door.  They were standing 
in the middle of the office, just a little too close together, 
and he took a small step backward when I knocked.

"Am I early?"

"Not at all," Dana said.  She extended her hand and I shook it.  
"Good to see you again, Carrie."  She turned to Spooky, who was 
staring at me with something akin to suspicion in his eyes.  
"Mulder, this is Carrie Parker.  Carrie, Fox Mulder."

I put out my hand and he took it somewhat reluctantly.  "Agent 
Parker."

So that's how it's going to be.  "Agent Mulder.  I've heard a lot 
about you."

His eyes narrowed.  "No doubt."  Dana shot a glance at him, then 
at me.

"From Dana, I mean.  She thinks very highly of you."  I smiled 
then.  He didn't return it, but his hard eyes softened a bit and 
found hers.

"She thinks highly of you, too."

We sized each other up for another moment, then Dana broke the 
silence.  "Well.  Carrie.  Please, have a seat."  She motioned me 
to a chair in front of the big desk -- Spooky's desk, according 
to the name plate.  He went behind it and she pulled up another 
chair, and I finally had a chance to check the place out.

Overflowing file cabinets -- one even had a combination lock in 
it.  Tabloid clippings and pictures of weird shit on the walls.  
A lone philodendron on the small desk -- hers apparently, 
although she didn't have a name plate.  And the poster.  A space 
ship, with 'I Want to Believe' written beneath it.  Their office 
was just how I'd imagined it.

They both noticed me looking around, and I grinned 
apologetically.  "Sorry.  It's just that I've heard a lot of 
stories..."

The hard edge was back in his eyes.  "Stories.  What kind of 
stories, Agent Parker?"

Dana let out a nervous laugh.  "Mulder, I don't think we need to 
go into that right now..."

"No, Scully.  I'd like to know what kind of stories Agent 
Parker's heard."  He looked at me, those eyes boring a hole 
through me.

And at that moment, I felt like the World's Biggest Idiot.  He 
was fully aware of his reputation, and he wasn't at all happy 
about it.  "I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, I didn't realize..."  I 
glanced at Dana, tried to smile another apology.  Spooky still 
looked like he wanted me dead.  "Look, we've gotten off on the 
wrong foot here.  Can I go out and come in again?"

I felt like a specimen under a microscope, the way he was 
studying me.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dana put her 
hand on his arm, much the way she'd done at Reggie Purdue's 
funeral.  But this time, she left it there after Spooky relented.

"No, Agent Parker, I..."  He flashed a tiny smile at Dana.  
"Scully's always telling me I'm overly sensitive about... things."

"Sensitivity's a rare thing in a man.  I know it's one of my 
husband's best qualities."  I shot them both a grin of my own, 
then got down to business.  "So what have you got for me, Agent 
Mulder?"

He handed me the files I'd sent, along with his profile.  I 
opened his report and started to read.  Within a paragraph, I 
knew this would have to be copied to my private file, where I 
kept the stuff that would eventually find its way into the book 
I'm going to write after I retire.  Although the case itself 
wasn't remarkable, Spooky's profile was, in a word, fucking 
brilliant.

As I read, he explained his rationale -- once the first victim is 
identified, look to her family, because the killer is probably 
her son or grandson.  I'd pretty much come to the same 
conclusion, had inadvertently said as much to Dana -- but the way 
Spooky wrote it, the way he told it, was captivating.  I was 
beginning to see why Dana had stayed with him for... what was it 
now, seven years?  Apart from the obvious -- he's still damn good 
looking, even pushing forty -- he had a very persuasive way of 
making an argument.

He wrapped up and I nodded, closing the folder.  "We should have 
an ID in a few days -- the victim had undergone a hip replacement 
and she wore dentures.  We're tracing both through the 
manufacturers now."  He nodded this time, and I looked at him.  
"Agent Mulder... the most recent body buried there had been dead 
for a couple of weeks.  How likely is it that he's stopped?"

"Serial killers rarely just stop, Agent Parker, I'm sure you know 
that."

Dana jumped in at that.  "But Mulder, how do you explain the lack 
of new victims?  Some of those women died within days of each 
other, and now, nothing for weeks."

"I don't know, Scully, maybe he found a new dumping ground, maybe 
he's sick or dead, maybe he's been arrested on something 
unrelated, maybe..."

"Maybe..."  They both turned to look at me.  I sighed, shook my 
head.  "He hasn't stopped, has he?  He's just found a new burial 
site."

Spooky nodded.  "I'd have the Richmond PD check missing persons 
reports for women fitting the victim profile.  Check addresses, 
too -- maybe it's geographic."

I hadn't thought of that.  I gave him a smile and a pleased look.  
Dana caught it and smiled herself, proud of him, but Spooky 
remained stoic.  Nevertheless, they both did good work, and I 
wanted to acknowledge it -- that's one of the first things they 
teach you about being an ASAC.  "Good.  We'll do that with the 
other victims too, once they're all ID'd -- which, incidentally, 
would be much slower going if it hadn't been for Dana."

She blushed a little.  "Just doing my job."

I shook my head.  "It's more than that.  You're very dedicated to 
your work, Dana."  I looked at Spooky.  "You both are.  You both 
threw yourselves into this, even though it isn't remotely 
connected to your area of focus.  You gave this case everything 
you have, and as a result it's going to be solved a lot faster 
than it might've been otherwise.  I'm impressed, and I'm 
grateful."

I held Spooky's eyes for a moment then studied the pile of 
folders in my lap, letting what I said sink in -- for them, and 
for me.  I hadn't planned on saying all that.  Then I heard him 
take a breath and I looked up.  He looked surprised, and more 
than a little bit proud.

"Well.  Thank you, Agent Parker.  Scully and I... we're not 
exactly used to praise from our supervising agents."

"It's genuine, Agent Mulder, believe me."  I paused, decided to 
reveal just a little more.  "I haven't been an ASAC on all that 
many cases, my job doesn't lead to that too often.  To have both 
Dana Scully and Sp-- *Fox* Mulder consulting, well... that's 
been a real privilege."

Shit.  And I was doing so well.

The flint was back in his eyes -- there was a touch of it in 
hers, too.  I took a deep breath, tried to dig myself out.  "And 
if you want to let a little slip of the tongue negate everything 
I just said, that's your call.  But I meant it."  I glanced at 
Dana.  "Ladies room?"

"Just past the elevators."

I nodded and got up, leaving the files on my chair.

In the ladies room I splashed water on my face and tried to 
steady my breathing, mentally kicking myself.  I could not 
believe I almost called him Spooky to his face.  I'd been so 
careful about that with Dana.  The thing was, I really did mean 
everything I'd said to them.  Regret washing over me, I steeled 
myself for the long trip back down the hall.

As I neared the office, I heard them again.  This time, there 
*was* anger in their voices -- because of me, but it seemed to be 
directed at each other.

"Mulder, she apologized..."

"She did not apologize, Scully, she had an 'oops' moment.  'Oops, 
I almost called you Spooky, my bad.'  That's not the same thing."

"I can't believe you still let that crap affect you."

"Yeah, I still let it affect me.  You know why?  Because it's 
still there.  First thing new agents hear about at the Academy is 
old Spooky Mulder, tucked away in the basement, chasing 
government conspiracies and little green men."

"*Grey*."

I heard a harsh bark of a laugh from him.  "You can't tell me 
you're not embarrassed by the whispers.  By people calling you 
Mrs. Spooky behind your back."

Her voice inexplicably softened.  "Yeah, I get a little 
embarrassed sometimes.  To be honest, though, it bothers me more 
when people talk about *you* like that.  But Mulder, it's not 
like you do anything to discourage it."  She paused.  "'Sometimes 
the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of 
humiliation.'"

"Jesus, Scully, that was seven years ago..."

"And you're still doing it."  I heard her sigh and I kicked 
myself again, this time for not bringing my briefcase with me to 
the ladies room so I could just leave.  "Sometimes... sometimes 
I think you *like* being Spooky.  Because being Spooky is easier 
than just being Mulder."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and I briefly contemplated 
slipping back into the office.  Then I heard him take a shaky 
breath, and his voice got really quiet and a little rough.  
"You're wrong, Scully.  I *hate* Spooky.  Because of what 
Spooky's cost you."

"Mulder, no.  We've been through this."

"Tough to let go of seven years of guilt."

"Especially when it's undeserved."

He laughed a little, a self-deprecating laugh.  "You know me, 
Scully.  I'm an emotional masochist.  Look how long it took me to 
tell you how I feel about you."

"Took me longer.  What does that make me?"

"Oh god, two emotional masochists in one relationship.  Scully, 
we're seriously fucked."  She laughed at that.  Meanwhile, my jaw 
hit the floor.

Oh my dear lord.  It was true.  They were in love with each 
other.

From her laugh, it sounded like they'd made up.  But I had 
started this, and I needed to finish it -- for my sake more than 
theirs now.  I quietly moved a few steps down the hall, then made 
some noise as I approached the door.

When I came in, he was on his feet behind his desk and she was 
standing next to him.  Her lipstick was the tiniest bit smeared 
-- only another woman would notice.

He started to speak, but stopped when I held up my hand.

"Agent Mulder, I owe you an apology.  I'm so sorry for what I 
said.  I just didn't think.  But I meant everything else -- 
honestly, working with the two of you was an honor and a 
pleasure, and I hope we can do it again."  I took a step closer, 
took a deep breath.  Kept my eyes locked with his.  "The main 
reason I hesitated about calling you in to begin with, Agent 
Mulder, was that I thought the case was too mundane to hold your 
interest.  Because I've heard the stories.  For years.  Stories 
about Spooky Mulder, about the cases you've investigated in the 
X-files, about what a brilliant profiler you are.  And to tell 
you the truth, I was a little intimidated.  Still am."

They'd both listened without saying a word.  Now he grinned a bit 
and shook his head.  "Never thought of myself as intimidating."

"You are.  You're a legend, Agent Mulder.  After only, what -- 
eleven years?  Twelve?  Most of us will go our entire careers 
without leaving a mark anywhere near as indelible as the one 
you've left."  I grinned back at him.  "And if most of us were 
honest, we'd tell you that we're jealous as hell."

He chuckled at that.  "Jealous?  Of me?  You're not serious."

"Dead serious.  That's one reason you're the subject of so 
much... speculation."  They shared a look that seemed, to me at 
least, significant.  "But the reason I finally *did* call you was 
because of Dana."  She looked at me then and smiled a little.  "I 
like Dana.  I'd like to be friends with Dana.  I know that sounds 
really pathetic in a junior-high-school kind of way, but...  On 
the whole, it's more difficult for female agents to make friends 
than it is for male agents, the boys don't always let us play 
with them."  They shared another look, not as charged as the last 
one.  I waited until he looked at me again, then held his gaze.  
"But I know that Dana and I can't really be friends unless..."

"Unless what, Agent Parker?"

"Unless you and I can be, if not friends exactly, at least 
friendly acquaintances."  I shot him another grin.  "Although I 
would really welcome the opportunity to get to know the real Fox 
Mulder."

"The man behind the legend?"  There was that self-deprecating 
laugh again.

"Yes, actually.  If only so that the next time Tom Colton starts 
telling Spooky Stories, I can wipe that smirk off his face with, 
'you know, Tom, Mulder told me that's not what really 
happened...'"

Mulder laughed again and shook his head.  "Tom Colton.  That 
guy's gonna haunt me to my grave."

"Oh, so that one's true?"

"Wait, what did he tell you?"

"We can save that for another day."  It was the first time Dana 
had spoken since I came back into the office, and now she turned 
to me.  "You said something about lunch?"

"Absolutely."  I moved to put my files into my briefcase when I 
heard Mulder shuffle.  Dana noticed too.

"Mulder?"

"I can't.  Our three o'clock meeting with Skinner got moved up to 
one-thirty, I've got to finish up some notes."

"Mulder."  That sounded like a practiced tone, telling him she 
knew he was full of shit, designed to extract the truth.  I 
watched this dance between them the same way I'd listened to them 
from the hall -- they didn't even know I was there.  But being in 
the room had one distinct advantage -- I got to see The Look.  
The one that inspired fear in lowly lab assistants and commanded 
respect from any male agents who might underestimate her.  
Apparently, Mulder had built up a resistance over the last seven 
years and needed the look/tone combo -- neither seemed to work on 
its own, but in the face of their combined power he caved almost 
immediately.

"Okay, I requested that the meeting be moved.  But I can't change 
it back now..."

"Could you at least *try*, Mulder?  C'mon, call Kimberly..."

Dana picked up the phone and handed it to him -- I took it from 
him and hung it up again.  "No, please.  Really, it's okay, we'll 
have lunch another time."

"Are you sure, Carrie?"

"Positive."

Mulder looked at me then.  "I'm sorry, Agent Parker."

I shook my head.  "Don't be.  And please -- call me Carrie."  I 
picked up my briefcase, held out my hand to him.  There was no 
hesitation this time -- he nodded, shook my hand, even gave me a 
little smile.  I shook hands with Dana and turned to go, stopping 
at the door.

"You know... my husband has one of his rare weekend days off on 
Sunday, and we're having some people over for a barbecue."

Dana was incredulous.  "A barbecue?  In February?"

I laughed.  "What can I say?  My husband's insane.  He's a 
doctor, you'd think he'd know better."

"Your husband's a doctor?" she asked.

"He's an ER doc at Georgetown Memorial."  I noticed as they 
exchanged a glance.  "What?"

Mulder grinned a little.  "We've logged a few hours at GMH."

Dana matched his grin.  "More than a few."

So the stories about how often these two were hospitalized were 
true, too.  "Maybe you know him -- Josh Edwards?  Tall, nice 
looking, dark hair, gray at the temples, goofy looking 
mustache?"  Their blank looks told me they've met more than 
their fair share of ER docs, and my Josh wouldn't have made much 
of an impression on them.  "Doesn't matter, you'll meet him 
Sunday."

They shared another look -- this one I could read.  This one 
confirmed to me that they weren't yet public with their 
relationship.  Was it possible that this was still new?  That 
they'd spent the better part of seven years *not* together, and 
now they were?  Certainly not what I expected.  I wanted to let 
them know it was okay, that I'd keep their secret, but without 
actually telling them that I knew.

"Look, it's mostly neighbors and Josh's friends from the hospital 
-- the ones who get Sunday off, anyway."  I put a hand on Dana's 
arm, gave it a little squeeze.  "Besides me, you'd be the only 
FBI agents there... and I'd really like somebody to talk to."

She gasped a little when she realized.  Then she nodded.  "Can't 
let you be bored at your own party."

He looked a bit concerned.  "Scully..."  She nudged him with her 
shoulder, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Great.  I'll call you later with directions.  It's very casual, 
if you want you can bring a six-pack or a bottle of wine or 
whatever... and if it's not too cold, Josh'll probably want to 
shoot some hoops."

Mulder's eyes lit up at that.  "Josh plays basketball?"

Dana laughed.  "Carrie, you said the magic word.  He'll be there 
with bells on."

"Not bells, Scully -- my Knicks jersey."

I rolled my eyes.  "Oh lord, not another Knicks fan.  Josh will 
be thrilled."  I turned again to go -- turned back one more time.  
"Thanks again.  Excellent work, both of you."

Mulder gave me a tiny, gentle smile.  "Thank *you*, Carrie."

I went into the hall, toward the elevators.  As I waited, I heard 
their voices again.

"Scully, what's going on?"

"She knows."

"What?  How?"  He sounded quite disbelieving, not something I 
would've expected from Spooky -- but something that made perfect 
sense from Mulder.

"I don't know, Mulder.  Woman's intuition, maybe?"

The elevator arrived and I stepped inside.  The doors closed as I 
heard one last sound.  It made me smile.

Two very happy people.  In love.  Laughing.

I gotta call Josh.

END

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

END NOTES:  The Conversation Hearts series started out as three 
little connected stories about Mulder and Scully and Valentine's 
Day.  It's become a 'reality' I like a lot, and I really enjoy my 
Mulder and Scully -- romantic and playful, but still carrying a 
hell of a lot of baggage.

The other stories are:

Nonessential Personnel (Prologue)
Conversation Hearts I: My Funny Valentine
Conversation Hearts II: The Dating Game
Conversation Hearts III: Always, Forever
Taking Care of My Partner (Conversation Hearts IV)

You can find them (as well as my other, unrelated stories) at 
Ephemeral and the 2000 Spooky Awards page -- someday eventually 
I'll get around to doing a web page of my own.

Lara Means