From: "starbuck22" <jbowne@top.monad.net>

TITLE: Fletcher 2: Rollercoaster 
AUTHOR: Dana Starbuck
FEEDBACK: dks_starbuck@yahoo.com 
DISTRIBUTION:  Archive only to ScullySlash Homepage
CROSSPOSTING:  None please!
KEYWORDS: Slash, Scully/Other romance, Mulder/Other Friendship, Silence Of
The Lambs Crossover (sort of)
SPOILERS:  Minor all the way up to the end of Season Five.
RATING:  NC17 for sex and language 
SUMMARY: Scully's relationship with Fletcher continues
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.
THANK YOU: Special thanks to Selena for beta-reading.  And a _really_ big
thank you to my 'separated at birth cyberbro' deejay for his editing, ideas
and friendship. 


<<Chapter 6>>


Thursday, November 12, 11:45 AM

Scully stared at her monitor.  'You have 0 unread messages' was displayed
cruelly across the top.  <Damn.  More than three days and not one phone
call.  Not even a single lousy email.>  She sighed, unaware that it was
loud enough for Mulder to hear.

"Scully?"

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. <I didn't expect it to hurt
this much.> 

"Scully?" Mulder repeated.  "Hello?  Anybody in there?" 

She looked up.  "Did you say something?"  

"What's so fascinating on your computer?" he asked, getting up from his
desk.

"Nothing, Mulder."  She quickly closed the Internet connection before
Mulder could look over her shoulder.

"Well, something's sure caught your interest.  You've been staring at it
for the past half an hour."

"I have not."

<Something's going on with her.  I just don't know what.  She was fine on
Monday.  Maybe a little _too_ cheerful for my taste,>  He grinned inwardly
<but I'm sure that was because she spent the weekend with Fletcher.>  The
past few days, he'd silently watched her mood deteriorate.  <It can't be
Fletcher.  She's been out of town all week.  At least I _hope_ it's not
Fletcher.>

"Let's go get some lunch.  I'm starving."

"When aren't you?" she said dryly.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to take advantage of all of
these great restaurants in town before we get stuck out in Quantico.  You
know they don't have the variety that we have here."

"I suppose."

"C'mon," he cajoled.  "We haven't been out to lunch all week."

"All right," she said resignedly, taking her purse out of her desk drawer.

- - - - 

"So, have you got a birthday present for Fletcher yet?" he asked as they
waited for their food.

"No.  Have you?" she shot back.

"Not yet.  I thought I'd look this weekend.  She's hard to shop for.  I
mean, what do you give the woman who has everything?  If she doesn't have
it, she goes out and buys it."

"It's not like she's got a 'collection' that she can add to - unlike some
people I know," Scully smirked.

Mulder ignored her remarks.  "Usually I try to get tickets to some game,
but with the NBA on strike, or lockout, or whatever it is they're calling
it, and the Redskins playing so poorly, that idea's no good."  He munched
on a breadstick.  "I suppose I could look at hockey tickets.  We haven't
been to a Caps game in a long time."

Scully sipped from her glass of water.  "I don't even know when or if we'll
be celebrating it.  She's going to be out of town next week, too."  <I
don't even know if I'm going to be seeing her at all.  If we don't talk
soon·>

"Is that what's got you so moody?" he asked solicitously.

"I'm not moody, Mulder."

"Right," he said sarcastically.

The waiter returned with their food - a salad for her and a steak 'n cheese
sandwich for him.

"Don't you get tired of eating the same old thing?" he said.  "It's always
salad, salad, salad."

<I'm not eating the 'same old thing' anymore.  I've changed _some_ of my
eating habits,> she thought wickedly.  She smiled to herself, deciding that
some things were better left unsaid.

"How do you think I keep my girlish figure?" she said with a straight face.

Mulder cocked one eyebrow.  <Yup.  No doubt about it.  Being with Fletcher
has certainly improved Scully's sense of humor.>  "Behold my sandwich," he
said gesturing with both hands to the plate in front of him.

<Oh, boy, there he goes.  Off on another tangent.>  Scully rolled her eyes.

"Depending on where you're from, this could be called many things. A Philly
Cheesesteak, a sub, a torpedo, a hoagie, a grinder-"

"Grinder?" Scully interrupted.  "That doesn't sound very appetizing.  Where
do they call them _grinders_?"

"New England."

"Mulder, you're just a fountain of information.  How did I ever get through
life without you?"

"I ask myself the same thing every day," he replied taking a bite out of
his sandwich.

She chuckled for his benefit, but it was a short effort.  "Mulder?"

Following his mother's admonitions, he waited until he swallowed before he
said, "What?"

<No, I can't talk to him about it.  He wouldn't understand.  He'd kill
Fletcher first, ask questions later.  He's a lot like my brother Bill that
way, but I would never tell Mulder that.  He'd kill _me_.>

"How do you feel about going back to ISU?  We've never really talked about
the transfer."

"I'm not happy because I think we should be back on the X-Files.  On the
other hand, it beats having to be on 'bullshit' investigations."  He
stuffed a few chips into his mouth.  "I swear, if I had to hear one more
farmer talk about his beet crop or whatever, I was going to build my own
bomb with the fertilizer."  He wiped his mouth with his napkin.  "What
about you?"

She thought for a moment.  "Well, I guess I'm looking forward to using my
skills again."

"Just straightforward autopsies, Scully.  No aliens, no exploding bodies,
no green goo," he said with a smile.

"It'll be less dangerous than the X-Files."

"And not as boring as what we're doing now," he agreed, then added, "but
still boring."

"Do you think we'd get to work together at all?"

"Probably."  <That can't be what's bothering her.  We've been split up
before.  And we'll at least be in the same department.>  "As I understand
it, the forensics staff gets assigned on a rotating basis.  Whoever's next
up on the board, gets the job, unless it relates to a case you've worked
before."

"So I could work with Fletcher?"

"Yup."  <She doesn't look very happy about that.  How come?>  "You'll be
working with everyone in the department, including the staff not at
Quantico."

<Clarice Starling,> Scully thought suddenly. <I could be working with her. 
Oh, great.  And if Fletcher and I don't work it out soon, then I'm looking
at a _long_ six months.>  "Mulder, what was Fletcher's working relationship
with Starling like?"

"Well, you have to understand the circumstances.  When Starling came into
ISU, BSU back then, she skipped the mandatory two year field assignment. 
They brought her right into the department.  I guess it was all that
publicity with Lecter and Buffalo Bill.  And it was a politically
connected, high profile case.  I don't think the Bureau could afford _not_
to have her in BSU."

"When did she start working with Fletcher?"

"Not right away.  Fletcher was overseas during all this, or she would've
been working the case.  She'd had some contact with Lecter, but I'm
guessing she wouldn't have used him to get to Buffalo Bill." He flagged
down the waiter and ordered a piece of pie for dessert.  "You want
anything, Scully?"

"No, thanks."

He waited until the waiter left their table before continuing.  "Starling
took a lot of crap from the guys in the department.  They resented her
immediate success, her coming into the department without putting in the
time in the field, the fact that she got the case when everyone knew
Fletcher would've worked it.  It wasn't a good time for her.  She couldn't
even walk through the office without some asshole whistling 'Buffalo Gals'
under their breath, just loud enough for her to hear it."

Scully could empathize with what Starling had gone through.  She herself
had experienced something similar all through med school and at the
academy.  And of course there were all the whispers after she'd joined the
X-Files.  Mulder thought she hadn't heard them, didn't know about them. 
But she had. 

"When Fletcher returned, it was quite the scene.  She walks into the
office, still in her dress whites, wearing all those ribbons and medals and
whatnot.  Everyone made such a fuss about it."  He took a sip from his
coffee cup.  "And then she did something very classy.  She went through the
office, saying hello to everyone.  When she got to Starling, she shook her
hand, said 'pleased to meet you.  Nice job on Buffalo Bill' then continued
on.  She didn't have to say anything.  Made a hell of an impression on
Starling and me.  She made her point about Starling's ability without
really making a big deal."

"So that's when they started working together?"

"No, Starling was still working with Jack Crawford.  Occasionally, she'd go
out on a case with me or Fletcher or both of us, but she stayed with
Crawford until his retirement.  Crawford wanted Starling brought along as
slowly as possible." When the waiter brought Mulder his pie, he ordered
another cup of coffee. Scully asked for more hot water for her tea. After
the waiter left, Mulder went on.  "Starling learned a lot from Fletcher,
though.  You can tell that Fletcher was _really_ her mentor."

"How so?"

"When you get a chance to work with them, watch carefully.  Study the way
they approach a case.  Fletcher taught that to Starling.  She also taught
her how to walk into a room of mostly male law enforcement officers and
silence them without doing or saying a thing.  I've seen Fletcher do it
time and time again.  She gets their respect just in the way she carries
herself.  She doesn't try to steal the collar, doesn't try to outshine the
locals or take over the case.  She makes them a part of the investigation,
makes them think they're running it, that she's assisting them.  That's one
of the reasons she's so successful, and so requested."  He leaned back in
his chair.  "Starling either had Fletcher teach it to her, or she learned
it by observing.  Either way, it's eerie when you've worked with both of
them.  They hardly had to talk when they were on a case.  It was like they
had some sort of ESP between the two of them."

<I won't ask him about their involvement.  It may be moot anyway.  Fletcher
may end up being just my boss and nothing more.>  She sighed.  <Oh, stop
it, Dana.  Stop being so paranoid, so pessimistic.  You don't know anything
for sure, so stop worrying.>

"I assume you're paying for lunch?" Scully said.

"What?"

"I paid last time, Mulder.  You're getting off cheap.  Your lunch last time
was twice what mine cost."

He grumbled good-naturedly, but paid the bill.



Thursday, 7:30 PM

Scully set her briefcase down on the dining room table.  She immediately
checked her phone for messages.  No matter how long she stared at it, the
light on the answering machine remained dark.  <None.  Damn.  Why won't she
call me?  This is ridiculous.  I've left a message every single day at her
various hotels, and she hasn't returned one call.  She can't be _that_
busy. Or is she avoiding me?>

She opened her briefcase and rummaged through it, trying to find Fletcher's
itinerary.  <I know it's in here.  Damn.  I can't find it.  Where is it?> 
She took a deep breath.  <Patience.  It's here.>  A few moments later she
found it.  <Kansas City.  I'll try her one more time and if I don't get
her, that's it.  I'm not going to call her again, even after she comes
back.  She can call _me_.>

She poured herself a small glass of scotch before she went into the
bedroom.  She sat down on the bed and stared at the phone. 

- - - - 

As soon as she unlocked the door, Fletcher heard the phone ringing. <Great.
Lansdowne probably thought of something _else_ he had to tell me about the
Netcrawler.>  She set down the ice bucket she was carrying and answered the
phone.  "Buchanan."

"Fletcher?  It's Scully."

"Oh, hi, Red," she said tonelessly.  "I just got back.  Can you hang on a
sec?"

"Sure."  <Go ahead.  Just blow me off like you have been all week.>

Fletcher set the phone down and went back to the ice bucket.  She dumped
the contents into the sink, then stuck several bottles of beer into the
ice.  She opened one bottle, took a long swallow from it, then returned to
the phone.

"Thanks for waiting.  I had to take care of something."

<What's her name?>  Scully thought unkindly.  <Are you there alone?  Why
haven't you called me?  Why are you avoiding me?  Why haven't you returned
my calls?>  Scully took a deep breath.  <Easy.  Don't nag.  Give her the
benefit of the doubt.>

"How are you?" she asked.

"Okay, I guess.  Mostly just tired." 

"I'm glad to hear you're alive.  I was beginning to think that maybe you'd
dropped off the face of the earth," Scully said, unable to keep the sarcasm
out of her voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I haven't heard from you all week and I was worried."

"Well, I'm fine, thanks for asking," Fletcher said tersely, fighting to
keep her temper under control.  "How are you?"

"I've been better," she admitted.

"What's wrong?"

"It's been a rough week," Scully said evasively.

"Mulder being his usual pain in the ass?"  Fletcher leaned over and took
her shoes off.

"No, he's been fine, actually."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing."  Scully paused.  "We need to talk when you get back."

Fletcher's heart dropped; her mouth went dry.  She reached for the bottle
of beer on the nightstand.  She took another long swallow.  "About what?"
she replied, her voice calm, her tone even.

"We'll talk tomorrow."

"Then why the hell bring it up now?" she said angrily.

"Because I don't want you to think I'm trying to ambush you."

Fletcher silently counted to ten before responding.  "Scully, I'm too
fucking tired for this.  What do you want?"

"If you're going to tell someone you love them for the first time, you
should at least wait until they're awake."

<Oh, fuck.  She did hear me.>  Fletcher held her breath, then slowly
exhaled.  She picked up a pen and began to fiddle with it.  <I want a
cigarette.  First time in _years_ that I've wanted one.>  She dropped the
pen and picked the beer up.  She finished it off in one gulp.

"Do you still want to talk?" Scully asked quietly.  "I will, but I'd rather
do it when we're together, face to face."

Fletcher put her hand to her forehead and rubbed.  "Yeah, I suppose that
would be better."

"Okay.  Why don't you come over to my place tomorrow night?  I'll cook us
some dinner and... we can talk."

"Fine.  I'll see you then."

Fletcher quietly hung up the phone.  <She didn't even tell me she missed
me> she thought unhappily.  <Then again, I never really did give her much
of a chance.  Maybe she was waiting for me to say it.  I should've said
something.  I did miss her.  I still do.>  She got up from the bed and
grabbed another beer out of the bathroom sink.  <I suppose I should've
called her this week, but I never had the opportunity.  Too many fucking
late flights, too many unnecessary meetings that just wouldn't end...>

She turned on the TV and flipped through the channels.  She didn't pay
attention to it as her mind was filled with thoughts of Scully.  <Damn it. 
I had a nice little 'something' going and I blew it.  I never should've
said anything.  What was I thinking?  You idiot, Buchanan. You've probably
scared her off for good.>  She chugged her beer.  It wasn't nearly cold
enough, and not at all comforting.

End Chapter 6