Chapter Text
Saunders-
Your secret is not safe with me. I’m sure your wife wouldn’t appreciate your behavior with your secretary. Unless you want Mrs. Saunders to find out—unless you want the suits at the Hoover to find out—wire $100,000 to Acct# 617881992 at Cayman Islands National Bank. You have 48 hours.
Best Regards- The Watcher.
***
November 1991
Dana Scully felt the warmth of the late Fall sun on her cheek and stretched under her blankets. It was a rare day she got to sleep in and she loved the stillness of the moment. Within seconds, though, she realized what had awoken her in the first place: knocks on her door and a familiar baritone calling her name. The unexpected interruption of her peaceful morning left her disoriented.
“Dana, are you home?”
“Coming. Hold on a second,” she yelled back toward the door. She grabbed her robe from behind her bathroom door and hurried through her apartment, opening the front door and finding Jack Willis waiting for her.
Jack had been one of her instructors at Quantico and afterward—once Dana began to teach there, too, had become her boyfriend. They had a good year together but decided to break things off just last week after realizing they no longer had a spark. Together—they were more like best friends than lovers. Still, he’d been one of her greatest allies in her short career at the Bureau.
“Hey. What’s up? It’s a Sunday, and I have a rare morning off,” Dana said, rubbing her eyes as she openined the door and allowed him to follow her inside.
“I’m sorry to bother you—it’s for work. Do you know Walter Skinner?”
“Skinner…” Dana said, turning toward the kitchen, needing coffee before she could continue any meaningful conversation. “Yeah, he’s a director at the Hoover, right?”
“Yes. He wants to see you today.”
“Today? It’s a Sunday.”
“Yes, well, you’ll learn, Dana, that at the Hoover, they really don’t do the whole days off thing.”
She’d only been to F.B.I. headquarters once before, for an initial interview. She couldn’t imagine why anyone there wanted to see her, and honestly—it made her a little nervous. “Okay. Well, what is the meeting about, Jack?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but he said he has a case he needs your help on.”
“Me?” she asked as she got out two coffee mugs and handed Jack a cup, just as he liked it—cream and three sugars.
He took a sip and shrugged. “Yes, you. And he wants you there in,” Jack peeked at his watch, “two hours. Better get moving.”
***
Dana tried to control the nervous energy she had as she rode the escalator into the Hoover Building. The lobby was fairly empty on a Sunday, at least compared to the one time she’d been here before. She signed in with security; it felt strange getting a visitor badge at the headquarters of your employer. She wondered if she’d ever actually work in this building.
She’d grown quite comfortable at Quantico and enjoyed teaching new field agents forensic pathology, but sometimes—at quiet moments—she wondered if she was destined for more. If someday, she’d find herself working chaotic cases, chasing criminals, or interrogating suspects alongside a colleague.
On the fifth floor, the door to Assistant Director Walter Skinner’s office was open, but she knocked nonetheless to alert him of her presence.
“Agent Scully, please come in,” the man behind the desk said. She’d only seen pictures of Walter Skinner. He was relatively young for a man in his position and quite handsome, with a clean-shaven head and intense but interesting eyes hidden behind glasses. “Take a seat.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk, “I appreciate you coming in on a Sunday.” Dana sat down and tried to remain calm, although she noticed her hand was shaking just a bit as she straightened her skirt.
“Have you met Fox Mulder?” the Assistant Director asked and motioned toward the back corner of his office. A man in a suit slowly turned from where he was flipping through a book. She’d only heard of Fox Mulder by reputation. A brilliant profiler: young and hungry, is what Jack had told her once when they were sharing stories in bed. What Jack hadn’t mentioned was a physical description of Mulder. Scully felt her heart race a little as the tall, handsome man walked her way. His hair was almost black and messy; it was a juxtaposition to the tidy suit he was wearing, although the brash patterned tie also seemed to strike a chord of chaos hidden under an appearance of order.
As she stood to meet him, his mossy green eyes burned through her intensely—he was studying her; no, likely he’s profiling me , she realized.
“She’s going to need to wear heels,” Mulder said as he stopped mere feet from her.
Scully immediately grew confused, staring down at the basic flats she always wore for work.
“Heels?” she asked.
“Hi, Fox Mulder,” he said, offering his hand. She felt hot and tingly; nervous as she shook his hand, and she wasn’t sure if it was the setting, the odd comment about her footwear, or just him.
“Hi, Dana Scul—”
“Do you ever wear heels, Agent Scully? I think Agent Mulder is right; you’ll need them for this,” Skinner interrupted.
She turned her gaze back to him. “I sir…I do have heels, sure. I don’t normally wear them for work; I mean, I’m doing autopsies all day, and…” She realized she was rambling and swallowed her nervous words. “Sir,” she said to Skinner and then turned to Mulder, where his hand was still joined with hers, “Agent Mulder,” she pulled her hand quickly from his. “Why heels?”
“Jack didn’t tell you?” Mulder asked.
“Jack said he didn’t know why I was being asked here.”
“You didn’t tell him?” Mulder said to Skinner. “He might get pissed off.”
Skinner made a shooing motion with his hand as he sat comfortably behind his desk. “He’ll get over it. We need to do this, and this should work.”
What in the hell are they talking about , Scully wondered. And although she wanted to say just that, she took a deep breath and instead said, “Gentlemen, with all due respect, what are you referring to?”
“This is an undercover mission, Agent Scully. You’ll be playing yourself—doing your job at Quantico, but also, you’ll be pretending to have an affair with Agent Mulder.”
“I’m sorry…” Scully felt herself blinking rapidly.
Mulder whispered out of the side of his mouth so only Scully could hear while he maintained eye contact with Director Skinner. “The heels thing is so we look believable kissing.”
