Okay - here goes.  My first attempt at posting ScullySlash.  (not mine. 
just posting for a friend - check the disclaimers etc).  I'm not talented
enough and if I were, I'm certainly not bold enough to post.

FLETCHER  by "Dana Starbuck" aka "The Bashful One"
Feedback: no public discussion please!
Note:  I am posting this for a friend who only has access to the internet
thru work.  I did not write this, but I have agreed to let my friend use my
email account jbowne@top.monad.net.  Any comments, please reference 'Fletcher' so I know to print and pass on to her.
Distribution:  Archive only to ScullySlash Homepage only
Crossposting:  None please!
Keywords: F/F,  Scully/Other, Mulder/Other Friendship,  SOTL Crossover
(sort of)
Spoilers:  None
Rating:  NC17 for sex, ScSlash Rating - A & B
Summary: Scully becomes involved with a friend of Mulder's from his
pre-Xfiles past. 
DISCLAIMER: The X-Files characters and situations are the creations and
property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and the Fox Broadcasting and
have been used without permission. SOTL characters are the property of
Thomas Harris and have been used without permission.  No copyright
infringement is intended and no money shall be made with this piece of
fiction.  All the others belong to the author.



Friday, September 11th 8:15 AM

Mulder looked up from his desk when Scully walked into his office.  He
wasn't so much shocked at her appearance but just a little worried.  She
had small circles under her eyes and looked worn out.  He wondered if she
was feeling okay.  Briefly he thought about her cancer then dismissed the
thought, certain that Scully would've said something to him. 

"You look like hell, Scully.  You must've had a good time last night," he
kidded her and at the same time was fishing for information.

"Hardly, and thanks for the compliment."

"What's wrong?" the concern in his voice unmistakable.

"Nothing.  I'm fine."

<She looks depressed> Mulder thought.  <Is it the work?  Is she sick?  Did
the cancer come back and she just didn't tell me?>  

"What are you doing tonight, Scully?"

"Nothing, why?"

"I'm meeting an old friend from ISU for drinks.  Why don't you join us? 
You could use a night out."

"This isn't a fix-up, is it, Mulder?" she sighed.

"No.  Trust me on this one, Scully," he said with a small laugh.  "It's
definitely not a fix-up.".

"I don't know, Mulder.  Ask me later."



Friday, 1:30 PM

Scully sighed, looking at all the folders piled on her desk.  <It never
ends.  Either we're out tilting at one of Mulder's windmills or buried
under paperwork.  It's getting old and I'm getting tired of it.>  She
picked up another folder.  <I suppose if I stay late and work this weekend
I might get to a point where I'll only be a month behind.  It's not like I
have anything else to do.>  

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.  She was surprised to find
tears in her eyes and she was instantly glad Mulder was out of the room. 
<Why do I feel so blue?>  She looked at the calendar on her desk.  <No,
it's way to early for PMS.  I'm just bored with everything - my work, my
life.  I hate to admit it, but Mulder's right - I have no life.  I get up,
I go to work, I go home.  That's it.  Some life.>

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.  When she heard Mulder come into the
room, she quickly made it look like she was cleaning her glasses.

"What time were you planning on going out, Mulder?"

"We're meeting at 6:30.  Are you interested?"

"I need a break from this paperwork.  It'll be good to get out."

"I'm glad you changed your mind."



Friday, 6:30 PM

She followed the hostess to the back of the pub.

"This is fine.  My friend will be here in a few minutes."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Sure.  I'll start with a pitcher of whatever you have on tap, not Bud, and
not light, and a couple of glasses."

"I'll be right back."

Knowing Mulder's affinity for the facing the door, she sat down with her
back to the entrance.  <How long has it been since I've seen him?  Two
months?  Three months?  I know he hasn't been to the house since spring.  I
guess the last time I saw him was just before July 4th.  It'll good to see
him again.  Damn our schedules.  No, it's not just our schedules.  We
haven't been very good about keeping in touch this year.>



Scully walked into the pub with Mulder.  He looked around the bar before he
dragged her to a booth in the back.  It wasn't until his friend stood up
and turned around that Scully realized that 'he' was a 'she'.  Now she
understood why Mulder had laughed when she asked if tonight was a 'fix-up'.
 

<Interesting.  Mulder doesn't have many female friends.  Maybe he wants to
introduce me to his girlfriend.  Oh, cripes, I'll be a third wheel.  I'll
just have a quick drink, to be polite, and then I'll leave.>

Scully quickly gave her a once over, as if she were checking out a suspect.
  It was an occupational hazard that she wasn't even aware of most of the
time.  

Mulder's friend was a tall woman, almost as tall as he was. There wasn't an
ounce of fat on her, not did she have any hips or chest to speak of.  Her
waist was narrow, her shoulders broad. She had intense blue eyes - so blue
that Scully wondered if she wore tinted contact lenses.  There were lines
around her eyes and across her forehead, making her look older than she
was, but she also had a few laugh lines around her mouth.  Her short,
thick, dark chestnut hair was streaked with gray and brushed back, except
for the few uncontrollable strands of hair that fell casually over her
forehead. 

<Definitely not Mulder's type.  I doubt they're involved at all.  Maybe
this won't be so bad afterall.>

"Spooky Mulder," she said, standing up and taking his hand, then hugging
him.

Scully's eyes widened.  She was surprised to hear her call Mulder 'Spooky',
but she said it with such friendly affection, it was almost as if she
herself had said it.

"Fletcher the Lecher, how are you?" he greeted her with the same affection.
 "Scully, this is an old friend of mine, Fletcher Buchanan.  Fletcher, my
partner, Dana Scully."

"Pleased to finally meet you," Fletcher said, sticking out her hand.
"Mulder speaks often of you." 

When their hands touched, Fletcher looked at her oddly, as if she
recognized her.  Scully thought it strange, but for a quick moment, it
looked as if Fletcher's eyes had changed to a pale, icy blue.

"Have we met before?"  Fletcher asked, inwardly kicking herself for
blurting out such a trite sounding question.  <Shit, what an obvious pick
up line.  You idiot.  There's an absolutely stunning woman in front of you
and that's the best you can do?>

"I don't think so...maybe around the Hoover Building," Scully said.

Fletcher suddenly realized she was still holding Scully's hand.  She
quickly let go and sat down, hoping her embarrassment didn't show. 
<Goddess, she's gorgeous.  Mulder never told me she was so beautiful.  He's
one lucky guy.  How can he work with her?  I'd find her to be a constant
distraction.>

Scully didn't know where to sit; she didn't think she could sit next to
Fletcher nor did she think she could sit opposite her.  She found her eyes
too unnerving.  Mulder bumped into her from behind when Scully hesitated.	

"Waiting for something, Scully?"

"What?"

"Are you planning to sit any time soon?"

"Sorry, Mulder."

She sat down, facing Fletcher.  Mulder slid in next to her.  <At least
Mulder can't see my face when he sits next to me> she thought.

"What're you having, Fletcher?" Mulder asked, taking off his tie and
stuffing it into his jacket pocket.

"I just ordered a pitcher of the draft on tap."

Scully felt overdressed in her business suit.  Mulder had loosened his
collar and was now in his shirtsleeves, his coat crammed into the booth
beside him.  Fletcher was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt, a navy
linen jacket over it. <Oh well, at least I'm not in a skirt.>

Fletcher reached into her pocket for a pair of glasses.  She put on a pair
of round gold-rimmed wire glasses.  <So much for contact lenses> Scully
thought.  <Her eyes really are that blue.  Incredible.>

"Sounds good.  I'll have the same.  What about you, Scully?"

"I'll pass on the beer."

Fletcher waved down a barmaid.  "What'll you have, Scully - or do you
prefer Dana?"

"Scotch rocks - and Scully's fine."

Fletcher ordered her drink and instructed the barmaid to put it on her tab.
 

"Interesting name," Scully commented, sipping her drink.  "Do you prefer
Fletcher or Buchanan?"

"Either, just don't use my first name."

"Which is?"

Fletcher shot Mulder a warning look.  Scully saw it and turned to Mulder. 
She raised an eyebrow.  <Well?>

"Don't ask me.  I'm sworn to secrecy.  I took an oath when I was threatened
with bodily harm."

"At least give me an initial,"  Scully pleaded, taking a larger drink from
her glass.  

"Nope."  The tone in Fletcher's voice was final.

Scully recognized the tone - a tone with a definite military flavor. 
<Sounds a little like Ahab did when we were kids and asking permission for
something we knew to be outlandish.  Pleading didn't work with him either.>
 
"I know Mulder partnered with LaManna, but did you two work together?" 
Scully asked, intrigued with this woman from Mulder's past, but unsure if
it was because it was Mulder's past, or just her.

"On and off for what - two years or three?"

"Something like that."

"Are you still in ISU?"

"I took some time out of the department to teach at the Academy.  I'm
returning next week."

"We're out celebrating the fact the ISU came to their senses and brought
Fletcher back."  Mulder began cracking open the peanuts that sat in the
basket on the table.  "Will you still be at Quantico?"

"My office will be at the Hoover Building, but I'll still maintain an
office in Quantico. I imagine I'll be splitting my time between the two,
when I'm not on the road."

Scully ordered another scotch when the barmaid came by to refill the
pitcher. Scully wasn't used to drinking, especially on an empty stomach,
but she felt compelled to keep up with them.  The second drink soon became
a third, then a fourth.   

She was fascinated with this woman, partly because Mulder hardly ever spoke
about anyone from his pre-Xfile days, and when he did, it was rarely
favorable.  She quickly wondered if Mulder had slept with her, then just as
quickly dismissed the thought.  There was nothing to indicate even remotely
that they were anything other than good friends and colleagues.

Scully nudged Mulder and stood up.

"Excuse me, Mulder. I need to use the bathroom."

Fletcher watched over the top of her glass as Scully unsteadily walked to
the restroom.

"So, that's the Ice Princess.  Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Mulder, she's gorgeous.  You mean to tell me you never noticed?"

"It's just Scully."

"You must be blind," she said, draining her glass.

"Fletcher, she's straight."

"Did I say anything?" she protested.

"You don't have to.  I saw the way you looked at her."

"I was just looking.  I'm not interested."

"What do you mean you're not interested?  Since when were you ever not
interested in any woman?" he teased.

"Since I cleaned up my act a few years ago.  You know that."

"Cleaning up your act doesn't mean you have to be celibate."

"And when was the last time you did the wild thing, Wonder Boy?" she asked
sarcastically.

"I'd bet that it hasn't been as long for me as it has been for you."

She ignored his last comment as she filled her glass with the last of the
latest pitcher of beer.

"So, does Mrs. Spooky always drink this much?" she asked, using the other
nickname she'd heard around the bureau.

"No.  I don't think I've ever seen her have more than one drink, two tops. 
Maybe you make her nervous."

"I don't think I have anything to do with it."  She took a long swallow
from her glass. "Forgetting the fact that she's beautiful, Mulder, your
partner is not a happy woman."

"What do you mean?"

"She just has that look about her."

"She's had a rough coupla years with me."

"So you've told me."

She quickly changed the subject when she saw Scully heading back to the
table.  She looked a little drunk to Fletcher, but she didn't say anything.
 To Fletcher, she was a woman in need of a good, long drunk - among other
things.


Scully sat back down and sipped from her glass.  Fletcher and Mulder had
begun to argue good-naturedly about something.  She listened to them tease
each other.  It was similar to the way she and Mulder interacted, but more
intense.  Their jibes were sharp, but there was also a warmth to their
exchanges that she and Mulder never shared.  

<This must be close friends - closer then Mulder let on with me> Scully
thought, a little enviously.  <They haven't worked with each other in years
and their rapport is still so very strong.>

Scully was also aware that Fletcher was making sure she wasn't left out of
the conversation.  Too often, when Mulder starting talking shop or
reminiscing with an old colleague, she'd been left out.  Scully was
grateful, and a little impressed.  Fletcher did it so casually that Scully
almost wasn't aware that she was doing it.

She looked over at Fletcher who was laughing at something that Mulder had
said.  She hadn't heard what Mulder had said.  The last hour had become a
little hazy and she had trouble following the conversation.  <I'd better
slow down, if it's not too late.>  She cupped her cheek in her hand and
fought to keep her eyes open.   She was so tired and truly feeling the
scotch she'd drank.  She looked over at Fletcher again.  <She's an
attractive woman, in a sort of androgynous way> Scully thought.  <Now where
did that come from?  Must be the scotch.  Drinking on an empty stomach is
not a good idea.  What was I thinking?  How many have I had anyway?  I've
got more than just a buzz.>

Fletcher noticed Scully yawning for the umpteenth time.  She'd lied to
Mulder.  She was interested in Scully - actually she was more intrigued
then interested.
<There's more to this woman than beauty and brains.  I'd love to have her
sleep in my arms tonight.  She looks like she's in need of some TLC and
I've love to be the one to offer it.>

"It's getting late," Scully said.  "I think I'll head home."

She stood up and a wave of dizziness overcame her.

"Scully, I don't think you're in any condition to drive," Mulder said. 
"Where's your car?"

"In the bureau lot."

"Fletcher, can you give Scully a ride home?  I'm not ready to leave yet."

"I can take a cab," Scully protested.

"Where do you live?" Fletcher asked.

"Annapolis."

"Too far for a cab, especially at night."

"I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"It's late.  I need to get home.  Really.  It's no bother."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.  You wait here with Mulder and I'll go get my car."  She threw
and ten and a twenty on the table.  "Let me know if that doesn't cover my
share."

She finished her glass of beer.  "Give me about 10 minutes," she said, and
then she was gone.

"This is really embarrassing, Mulder.  I can't remember the last time I got
this drunk..."

"Don't be.  You're tired, you didn't eat," he offered her excuses.
"Besides, it happens to the best of us, Scully."

"Not to me, Mulder," she muttered.

He walked outside with her and they waited until Fletcher pulled up in a
Jeep Cherokee.  Mulder gave her the address and directions, in case Scully
passed out of fell asleep, which she promptly did five minutes into the
drive.

Fletcher looked over at the sleeping woman.  She'd never met anyone more
beautiful.  <Careful, Fletcher.  You know the rules - no straight women. 
And certainly not Mulder's partner.>

She let Scully sleep until she found a parking space.  She gently shook her
shoulder.  "Scully?  Scully, you're home."

"Oh, okay," she replied groggily.

"Give me your keys.  I'll help you up."

"I'm so tired..."

"I know."

She carefully put her arm around Scully's waist and helped her to her
apartment.  She tried each key in the lock, holding Scully steady with one
hand.  She silently cursed her friend.  <You owe me for this one, Mulder. 
Big time.  It's not fair that I get to take this gorgeous woman home and
then not get to lay a hand on her.  And I think you know what you did, too,
you son-of-a-bitch.  Some practical joke.  Payback's a bitch.  You just
wait.>

She finally hit paydirt with one of the keys and unlocked the door.  She
fumbled in the dark before finding a light switch.  When she shut the door
behind her, she saw the look on Scully's face.

"Oh, boy, let's get you to the bathroom, Scully."

She rushed Scully to the bathroom.  They made it just in time.  Fletcher
gently lay her hand on Scully's back and pulled her hair off her face with
her other hand.  When Scully finished throwing up, she sat back on the
floor, leaning against the tub.  Fletcher found a washcloth and ran it
under cold water, then she wiped Scully's face.

Scully sobered up, realizing where she was.  She gratefully took the
washcloth from Fletcher and put it on the back of her neck.

"Here," Fletcher said, handing her a glass of water.  "Just sip it."

"Yes, thanks, you're right."  She sipped from the glass.  "I'm so
embarrassed.  I know better than to drink on an empty stomach," she
apologized.

"Don't be.  We all need to - uh - relax every now and then."

"Some first impression..." she mumbled, unsure why it was so important to
impress Fletcher.

"Let's get you to bed so I can get home." 

<And take a cold shower because I can hardly stand to be in the same room
with you right now, Dana Scully.>  She couldn't remember the last time
she'd been so affected by anyone. <There hasn't been anyone else - really -
since - forget about it, Fletcher, you moron.  Just keep those thoughts to
yourself.  They're nothing but trouble.>

"Why don't you stay here, Fletcher?  It's late and you shouldn't have to
drive."

"It's not that far."

"How much further?"

"About twenty minutes," she lied. "I'm okay to drive, Scully.  Really."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes.  I'm fine."

"Call me, Fletcher.  Let me know you got home."

"I'm not going to wake you up for that."

"Then let me buy you breakfast?"

"I don't think you'll be wanting breakfast tomorrow morning," she said with
a small, knowing smile.  "Besides, I've, well, I've.." she stumbled over
her lie.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  How rude of me.  You've got plans."  Scully was surprised
that she felt what - disappointment?  <Why should I feel disappointed?>

"I'll take a raincheck, if it'll make you feel better."

"It would."

"Goodnight, Scully."

"Goodnight, Fletcher.  Thanks for the ride."  She put her hand lightly on
Fletcher's forearm.  "Thanks for everything else, too."

"No problem.  See you around."

Scully shut the door and locked it.  In a way, she was relieved to be
alone.  She was exhausted and hoped that she could sleep.  <I'm sure all
that scotch will help, though I'm sure I'll pay for it in the morning.>

End Chapter 1 - Fletcher
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