Loads of people have been speculating about a romance beween Scully
and no, not what you're expecting, Deputy Director Walter Skinner.  Is
this even remotely plausible for the show?  Of course not!  That's why
fanfic is so wonderful you get to play with these ideas without having
to face the consequences next week. This story doesn't actually get
the romance started; it just lays a foundation for future, more
intriguing tales.All the disclaimers apply: the characters herein are
the creation of Chris Carter and the property of the Fox network, and
are used without permission.  Feedback would be greatly appreciated;
send comments, praise, flames to xfscully@aol.com.And remember, "A
man's reach should exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for?"

********************
"Lock and Key"
by Amy Vincent
xfscully@aol.com
********************

Dana Scully burst through the door of her office; she tried to skid to
a halt on the linoleum floor, and only half succeeded, stopping only
when her hip collided with the edge of the desk."Damnit!" she yelled,
dropping her briefcase to rub her side.  She looked around wildly for
Mulder; sure, she was running 10 minutes late for the debriefing with
Skinner, but he certainly wouldn't have left without her.  Would he?
Then she saw the yellow postit note fluttering on her rolodex.  She
snapped it up, and decoded Mulder's chickenscratch writing only to
read:

"Scully, we don't seem to have loads on our plate today.  I'm running
over to The Lone Gunman office to see what's happening.  Call me if
Bigfoot shows up, or you want to do lunch. FM" Oh, God, she thought,
the blood draining from her face.  He didn't leave without me, he
*forgot.* Dana began to fish through her briefcase for her cellular
phone, so she could bitch Mulder out and get him back here, but after
a second she stopped.  No, at this point, it would take him another
half hour for him to get back here.  By that time, Skinner would be
furious, as if he isn't already, Scully mused. Better to go in
herself, and make up some story that would explain her lateness and
Mulder's absence in one fell swoop.

By the time she was smoothing her ruffled hair in the mirrored doors
of the elevator, Dana had narrowed the choices down to a Mulder family
crisis or a minor car accident. She was still debating it when the
doors slid open on Skinner's floor and revealed the face of her
friend, Special Agent Tamara Jackson, tearstreaked and shaken.

"Tammy?  What's happened?"

Tamara shook her head quickly, indicating that she couldn't speak
here.  "Do you have a second?"

"Oh, God, I'm late for a meeting with Skinner.  But it shouldn't last
over 30 minutes, lunch?" Scully squeezed her friend's shoulder; she
hated to leave her just now, but there was no way around it.  Jackson
nodded, understanding, and went to sit at a nearby desk as Scully
hurried down the hall.  Dana's mind was racing Tamara Jackson was one
of the most unflappable agents she knew.  They had been in the same
Academy class, but hadn't become close until Tamara had been paired to
work with Tom Winston.  The FBI was still mostly a boys' club, and
both of them had dealt with a lot of innuendo and snickering about
their "partnerships."  Jackson could deal with all of that, and just
about anything else life threw at her. Until now.

Finally, she reached Skinner's office. The secretary waved her on in,
but not before raising an eyebrow at her sceptically.  Dana sighed and
stepped into the room.  Walter Skinner was standing at the window,
looking out over the D.C. skyline.  For the instant between her
entrance and his acknowledgement, Dana allowed herself to appreciate
the firm lines of his body silhouetted in the morning light.  Spending
too much time ogling your boss wasn't such a good idea.  She and
Tamara had decided this, over lunch and a lot of giggling, last week,
but the occasional glimpse couldn't hurt.  Sure, when Skinner was
furious he was intimidating as all hell.  But there were other
moments, when that stern face softened in kindness or concern.  This
is *not* one of those moments, Scully reminded herself as Skinner
turned, obviously angry and not bothering to hide it.

"Agent Scully, there had better be a damn good reason that you haven't
appeared for this debriefing before now.  And why Agent Mulder doesn't
seem to have appeared at all."

She swallowed hard.  "Sir, I was speaking to Agent Mulder on the
phone; he's been involved in a minor traffic accident.  He's
uninjured, but he's got to wait for the police to arrive on the
scene".  Her voice trailed off as she heard the shouting.

****

===========================================================================

From: xfscully@aol.com (XFScully)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: "Lock and Key" Part 2
Date: 2 Jul 1995 13:57:42 -0400


Second part --

***

Just outside the door, someone was yelling, "I don't give a damn who
he's got in there.  I have to see him, I have to see him right now "

"Tom, don't!  Stop this!"  Scully realized it was Tamara Jackson,
trying to calm her partner down.  Skinner put his hands on his hips,
puzzlement replacing anger in his expression.

"What the hell " he murmurmed, then began to step past her to the
door.

"I'm going in there!  They want me to go in there, and I've got to do
it!"  Tom Winston bellowed; Skinner opened the door just one instant
before Winston pulled a gun.

"Tom!" Jackson sobbed one last plea, but her partner was beyond
hearing her.  He pushed her roughly into Skinner as he cocked his
weapon.

"Security!" Skinner called, as he stepped in front of Jackson, putting
his body between her and Winston.  Not that it mattered, either way;
there wasn't any more time for security to get there before Winston
fired, blowing the secretary's neck to shreds.  Blood sprayed across
Winston's face, and for one brief moment he looked shocked, looked
something like his old self. But that was gone in an instant. He
wheeled the gun towards Skinner and fired again.

"No!" Scully cried out as Skinner fell. She dropped her briefcase to
run to him. But Winston was through the door now, slamming it shut
behind him.

"Get in the center of the floor! And drop that briefcase! NOW!" he
ordered.  Scully froze; Jackson began stumbling towards her, obviously
in shock.  After a moment, Skinner got uneasily to his feet thank God
it only grazed him, Dana sighed and joined them.

Outside, she could hear security pounding towards the door. Tom heard
it too, and yelled out, "I know what you're planning!  That door
opens, someone dies! I can fire before you can take me out!  You know
I can do it, so get back.  Get BACK!"  The security forces stopped.
Scully heard Skinner curse under his breath; the patrol had violated
its orders.  Winston might or might not have been able to kill one of
them before security took them out but they should have taken the
risk.  Now, they'd have to deal with a hostage situation in the heart
of FBI headquarters.

For a long moment, everyone stayed perfectly still; it had been less
than two minutes since the entire nightmare began, but it already
seemed like an eternity.  Dana realized she was trembling almost as
much as Tamara, and made an effort to quiet herself.  Skinner was
holding his arm close to his body; while the wound didn't seem to be
deep, it was bleeding profusely.  He's going to need bandaging soon,
she thought, or he'll lose too much blood to remain alert.  And all of
us are going to need to stay sharp.

"What do you want?" one of the security men called out.

"I don't know," Tom replied.  "They told me to do this, and they'll
tell me what I need next.  I just have to wait."

A long pause from the other side of the door. "Who told you to do
this?"

"The voices," Winston answered simply.  Jackson began to cry again.
Scully felt her heart drop; Tom Winston, normally the most reliable of
men, had snapped.  Although her briefcase was several feet away, she
could almost *feel* the outline of her sidearm within it.  Why didn't
I wear the piece?  Don't be stupid, nobody wears their gun in for a
briefing.  Will he let me open it for medication, anything?  No, he
told me to toss it he knows the gun's in there.  Damnit damnit damnit.

The security forces continued shuffling around outside, no doubt
attempting to call in specialists to deal with this crazed agent.  Tom
nodded; he knew he'd bought himself some time.  "Okay, I want you to
spread out.  Scully, get in the far corner, Skinner at the middle of
the wall, Tammy in the far corner. Get over there nice and slow."

Good thinking, Scully mused as she slumped in her corner.  Right where
he can see us all and right where any attack force would be most
likely to hit us.  That should slow them down.  I never thought I'd be
*glad* that Mulder forgot this meeting.

***

"They've even got the Dead Parrot skit in here, check it out."
Frohicke laughed.  Mulder smiled and leaned in towards his pal's
latest CDROM.  He felt a little guilty about skipping out on a dull
day at the office, but hell he was doing the paperwork he'd have done
at the office.  What difference did it make if he did it there or here
on the laptop, having a good time?  None, as long as Skinner didn't
find out, he reasoned.  And Scully would cover for him.So why did he
feel so strange?

***

Walter Skinner fought back a wave of dizziness.  Gotta keep my head,
he reminded himself.  Winston might show some sign of vulnerability,
or better yet, reason.  If that happened, he wanted to take advantage
of it.  Easier said than done when you're losing this much blood,
Walter.  Hang on.  It's been about ten minutes now they should have
somebody on the line with him soon.

"Tom?" Agent Scully raised her hand slowly.  "Walter has lost a lot of
blood.  Why don't you let me bandage his arm?

"The part of his brain that was still calm and collected approved.
Smart.

***

===========================================================================


From: xfscully@aol.com (XFScully)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: "Lock and Key" Part 3
Date: 2 Jul 1995 13:57:55 -0400


Part the third --

***

Taking it slow, her voice even, using first names, not bad.  Winston
shook his head.  "I don't want anybody to move."

"It will only take a second.  You need him awake, Tom.  They may want
to speak to him, to make sure he's all right; you need him to be able
to do that."

Winston seemed to weigh that for a moment, then jerked his gun towards
Skinner. "Go ahead.  But make it quick."

Scully crawled to his side; Skinner held his arm out for her
inspection, groaning softly with the pain the motion caused.

"Thank you, Dana," he said, carefully keeping the first names in use.
She smiled weakly at him, then got to work.

"How deep is it?" Scully asked, prodding his bicep gently.

"Not very, but it's bleeding like hell."  Skinner let himself relax
slightly at her soft touch.  She bit her lip for a moment, obviously
perplexed; before he could ask, she reached up and tore one of the
long sleeves from her silky blouse. Winston jumped at the sudden
noise.

"Just for bandages, Tom.  I'm going to tear the other as well, okay?"
After he nodded, Scully did so and set about preparing the wound's
dressing.

As she leaned across Skinner's chest, he whispered, "Good work, Dana.
Remind me of this next time you're due for a raise."  Although she
didn't lift her face towards him, he could see her quick smile.

Skinner's phone rang; they all started at the sound, which seemed
impossibly loud in the silence of that room.  Winston took a deep,
shaky breath.

"Everybody stay completely still," he ordered as he took one hand from
the gun and picked up the phone. They all obeyed; Jackson trembled in
her corner, and Scully remained bent over Skinner's chest.  She took
the opportunity to tighten the bandage and perfect her work.  Just
like her, Skinner thought admiringly.

Winston laughed into the phone.  "You know how I'm feeling.  I bet you
do."  Jesus Christ, Skinner fumed, they're still using the standard
FBI script.  You'd think they would have learned after the Duane Berry
fiasco.  Winston isn't going to fall for this.  He glanced down and
met Scully's eyes; she obviously realized it too.

"No, no *I* don't want anything.  *They* want something.  When they
let me know what it is, I'll tell you. Now leave me alone!" Winston
slammed the phone down, even shakier than he was before.  He glanced
around the room, wildeyed, before muttering, "I don't like this.  I
don't like this"

"What's the matter, Tom?" Tamara asked, her voice level.  Way to go,
Jackson, pull yourself together.  While mentally encouraging Jackson,
Skinner took Scully's shoulder in his good hand; Winston still didn't
look good and he didn't want Dana to move.

"There's too many of you.  I was just supposed to get him; you two got
in the way.  I can't concentrate on watching all of you."  He shook
his head, as if to clear it.  "I want you and Scully to go into the
closet; you can't get out from there, but I'll only have to watch
him."

"No, Tom," Jackson held up a hand.  Skinner shot her a dirty look, but
she didn't see it.  "Let me stay out here with you.  I can tell you're
shaken up; we ought to talk.  He'll still be in there, okay?"

"Damn!" Walter cursed under his breath, making Scully jump. He
squeezed her shoulder in apology, and kept the rest of his anger to
himself.  Damnit, Jackson, I know what you're doing you're his friend,
it's harder for him to hurt you but I don't want you on the line for
me.

But Winston was nodding.  "Okay.  You two get in there.  Nice and
slow."  Scully slid her arm around Skinner's back, helping him to his
feet. Jackson gave them a weak smile as they stepped into the darkness
of the closet.  Scully started to get the light with her free arm, but
Winston cut her off.

"Leave it dark.  Don't touch anything.  Just get in there, shut the
door, and stay quiet.  If I hear anything, somebody's going to die."

Skinner let go of Scully, and lowered himself carefully to sit on the
floor.  Scully shut the door slowly behind them.  The closet was
incredibly tiny, designed only to hold a couple of coats; she managed
to slide down next to Skinner, though not with a lot of room to
spare.They sat there in total silence, illuminated only by the thin
bands of light around the door, for a very long time.

***

"So, what is that vision of loveliness you call your partner doing
today?"  Mulder smiled ruefully; Frohicke had managed to wait almost
the entire morning before asking about Dana, a rare sign of restraint.

"Probably making up some bull story about why I'm not in the office.
And 'organizing' my desk so I can't find a damn thing."

"You should bring her with you more often.  She's the most beautiful
of our female visitors."

"She's your *only* female visitor, Frohicke.  Throw me another root
beer, will you?"

***

Scully tilted her head, trying to hear the conversation between Tamara
and Tom.  Although the closet door was thin, and eavesdropping should
have been no problem, the two agents were speaking very quietly.  She
could tell, however, that Tamara's voice seemed calm now.

Dana leaned closer to Walter, bringing her mouth to his ear, and
whispered, "Things must be going well."

Turning slightly, Skinner whispered back, "Let's hope so.  From the
sound of things, those wizards in Psych aren't doing any good."

Dana nodded, remembering again the mistakes they'd made with Duane
Berry those horrible, tense moments when Mulder's life had been in
jeopardy.  She'd spoken as convincingly as she could into the
electronics connecting her to her partner, trying to save his life,
trying not to think that the words she spoke might be the last thing
Fox would ever hear.  At the memory, she shivered and put her hands
over her face.

Skinner mentally kicked himself.  Nice, Walter.  Leave it to you to
find the dark cloud around every silver lining.  He put his good arm
around Scully's shoulders for comfort and no other reason, he reminded
himself.

"But Winston and Jackson are close.  Maybe she can get through to him.
She's held together through this well.  So have you; I'm proud of
you."  In the dim light, he could see a small, answering smile.

"After two years of XFiles, I don't spook easily." Dana allowed
herself to lean slightly into Skinner's shoulder. "Anyway, I've
learned to be less afraid of death."

That piqued Walter's curiosity.  "How so?"

Scully smiled even more broadly.  "It seems like a welcome release
from all the paperwork you want from us " Skinner choked back a laugh
at that, but Scully felt a little guilty for not really answering his
question. She took a deep breath and continued, "No, seriously, I've
experienced things that make me certain that, well, that death isn't
the end.  When I was in that coma six months ago, I wasn't
unconscious.  I was experiencing everything." Haltingly, she told him
a little more of the visions that had led her back to the side of
life.  When she was done, they sat in silence again for a long moment.

"I never heard about this but then, it's a sensitive thing.  I guess
you didn't tell anyone," Skinner murmured.

"Only Mulder," Scully whispered in reply.  "I knew he'd believe me I
mean, admit it, it has to sound a little crazy to you."

He smiled ruefully.  "Not at all, Dana.  Not at all."  Then he began,
slowly, telling her about his own experience in Vietnam.  How he had
hovered above his own body in a state of sublime peace such as he had
never known before but someday would again.  She listened raptly,
nodding encouragement as he whispered to her.

At last she answered him, "I understand; I really do.  It alters you
somehow separates you from the experience of those around you.  You
want to talk about it, but it's a hard thing to discuss with
anyone."

"Anyone except Mulder, apparently," Walter murmured.  "I ended up
telling him this story while you were in the hospital.  Telling it to
him although I'd never spoken one word of it not to my ex-wife, my
parents, my sisters, anyone.  I knew he'd understand.  I guess
compared to some of the stuff you guys see, an outofbody experience is
old hat."

Scully shrugged.  "Unless it's happening to *you*" Her voice trailed
off as Tom's voice suddenly went back to fever pitch.

"I DON'T CARE!!  They're ready now!  Right NOW!!"

Walter and Dana shared a look of mutual dread as Tamara pleaded, "Tom,

***
DAMNIT!  Next post --

===========================================================================


From: xfscully@aol.com (XFScully)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: "Lock and Key" Part 4
Date: 2 Jul 1995 13:58:07 -0400


please *think* about this!  Please, Tom NO!"Gunfire exploded in the
room.


Scully cried out as they heard Jackson's body slam against the wall
near them.  Skinner squeezed his eyes shut.  A good agent dead because
she'd tried to help her partner and her boss.  An utter waste.  The
closet door swung open.  They blinked in the sudden light Winston
flattened himself against the door, aiming his weapon squarely at
Skinner.  In the corner of the view, Scully could see Tammy's feet
lying completely still.

You get out here," Winston barked at Skinner.  He turned for one brief
moment to look into Dana's eyes; she saw no fear or hysteria in his
gaze, only steadiness and even a kind of relief.  He even smiled
slightly at her.  She managed to do the same, however shakingly, as
her eyes filled with sudden tears.  Then Walter pulled himself to his
feet and walked out to face whatever demons now ruled Tom Winston's
mind.

Scully shuddered as the closet door slammed shut again.

***

"Hey, Mulder, you want to try that new Thai place down the block?
Good food, sexy waitress." Frohicke waggled his eyebrows at Fox, who
shook his head.

"Nah; I told you, Dana will probably want to grab something."

"Yeah, you told me that at 11.  It's noon now she hasn't called.
Probably has other plans."  Frohicke suddenly paled.  "Mulder you
don't think she could be seeing someone else?"

Fox wasn't listening.  Scully *should* have called; even if she wasn't
interested in lunch, she would've rung him up just to gripe about his
ditching her, or with some snide comment about a videotape that had
turned up during one of her cleanup commando raids.

"Something isn't right here," he muttered.

"You're telling me!  Just last week, she told me she was taking a year
off dating to find herself.  I can't believe I bought that!"

"Not now, Frohicke!  It's not a guy; probably just something at the
office."  Realization struck.  "Oh, SHIT! The debriefing with Skinner!
I completely forgot!  We had this important meeting this morning and I
forgot oh, Jesus, she had to go in there alone.  She's gonna have my
hide!" Mulder paced the length of the room while Frohicke clucked his
tongue at him.

"Mulder don't you realize how that's going to hurt her.  She might
need a shoulder to cry on..."  Frohicke's voice trailed off as he
considered the possibilities.  Fox stopped in his tracks.

"It would hurt her, Frohicke, or at least make her really damn mad.
She would have called me to bitch me out about missing it, or fill me
in on the details of the cover story.  She *should* have called."

"So, what's up then?"

Mulder grabbed his coat from the rack and pulled his cellular phone
out of the pocket.  "I don't know.  But I'm gonna find out."

***

From: xfscully@aol.com (XFScully)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: "Lock and Key" Part 5
Date: 2 Jul 1995 14:46:39 -0400


Walter leaned against his desk, strangely calm.  The unreality of it
all -- Winston's quiet mutterings to no one in particular, Jackson's
bloodsoaked body lying a few feet away -- threatened to overwhelm him.
The blood loss didn't help either; while Scully had done the best she
could with two shirt sleeves, he was still bleeding slowly and was by
now almost giddy.

Maybe it's just as well, he thought.  Maybe I don't *want* to fully
appreciate my situation.

It was much more enjoyable to remember his conversation with Dana
Scully.  He'd always thought of her as one of his best agents, always
cool and competent and occasionally inspired.  He'd never had any
trouble admitting that to anyone -- in fact, he made a point of
telling that to some agents who made the mistake of using her
"Mrs. Spooky" nickname in his presence.

What he'd had far more difficulty admitting to himself were his
increasing feelings for her.  Attraction -- well, hell, he'd been
aware of that from day one.  Hardly surprising, considering her
stunning red hair and blue eyes.  But he'd kept his silence.  Too many
of the female agents had to put up with sexist crap as it was; Skinner
had no intention of adding a leering boss to their burdens.

But this was more than attraction, and had been for a long time.  He'd
come to look forward to their occasional conversations as the
highlights of his week; although he still had to call her on the
carpet for some of the craziness she and Mulder cooked up, he hated
every sharp word he had to speak to her. This emotion embarassed him
so much he'd found himself intensifying the lectures to compensate.
No doubt it fooled Scully -- but he wasn't convincing himself.

He'd always regarded it as hopeless anyway; after all, he was a
middle- aged bald man with an ugly divorce under his belt and a job
that required making Dana's job hell from time to time.  Not exactly
the romance every young girl dreams of.  But today, in the middle of
this horror, they had discovered this powerful link between them -- an
experience that separated them from everyone else. It would be
interesting to explore that --

"YOU.  You're the one," Winston growled, his eyes finally refocusing
on Skinner.  His grip on the gun steadied as he stared into Walter's
eyes.  "You're the one the voices keep talking about."

Inside her dark cell, Scully shivered.  She couldn't make out exact
words, but the tone of Tom's voice had changed -- become darker, more
dangerous.  She pressed her hands against the thin wood of the door,
blinking back sudden tears.  Oh, God, please don't let this happen,
she thought wildly.  Not to this good man.  He deserves so much more
than this --

She jumped as she heard an electronic buzzing.  What the hell -- ?

Winston jumped too, nearly squeezing the trigger as he tensed.  But he
and Skinner realized at the same moment that the buzzing was coming
from inside Scully's briefcase.  Tom nodded quickly at Skinner.  "Open
that thing.  What the hell is in there?"

The gun, thought Walter.  He's forgotten about the gun.  Let him not
remember for another 2 seconds, please --

Skinner leaned forward and slowly opened the case.  With his left hand
he slowly held up the buzzing cellular phone for Winston to see.  Tom
relaxed slightly, nodding.  But in the instant that Tom stared at the
phone, Skinner took Scully's weapon in his right hand.  He brought it
up, blindingly fast, feeling the weight that told him it was loaded
only half a second before he felt the violent kick against his hand as
he fired into Winston's gut.

Tom pinwheeled wildly into the wall, then fell.  There was an instant
of total silence -- then the phone buzzed yet again.  Still slightly
giddy, Skinner pushed the talk key.

"Scully, it's me," Mulder said.  "I thought I ought to call and
apologize for ditching you -- Scully?"

"No, Agent Mulder," Skinner replied, as the security forces belatedly
rushed into the room.  "But I'm glad you decided to check in.  By the
way, you're on report."

Scully stumbled from the closet.  She took in the gory scene for a
moment, then leaned down and checked Jackson's pulse.  After a second,
she shook her head, then looked back at Skinner in shock and
amazement.

Skinner's mouth curled in a rueful smile.  "Dana?  It's for you."

***

Later that night, as Walter Skinner tried to fall asleep in an
uncomfortable hospital bed and Dana Scully poured out her story to her
relieved mother, the autopsies on Tamara Jackson and Tom Winston were
performed.

Jackson's body was given little attention -- severe gunshot trauma to
the head doesn't leave much doubt as to the cause of death.  Winston's
body, however, posed interesting questions.

The coroner, a quiet woman who knew how to keep her job and her
silence, reached deep into Winston's ear with a thin metal probe.
After a moment, she pulled out a tiny metal tubing, with eyelash-thin
wires protruding from its sides.  She pressed on the wires, and nodded
approvingly as something within the tubing clicked and whirred.  She
turned toward her companion and whispered, "The transmitter's
working."

He nodded.  "We'll be able to move from the tests soon, and put this
to some practical use.  About time."  With that, he stubbed out his
cigarette, and left the room.

***

THE END

****

"The moral of the story is "Never tell the same lie twice." -- Garak, DS9
Amy Vincent --  Beltranista, DDEB, MPEB, PSEB, X-Phile, and Trek Maven.

And remember: "A man's reach should exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven
for?"

****