THE LADY AND THE TIGER by Stephanie Davies (100573.2252@compuserve.com) and Sue Esty (Windsinger@aol.com) Chapter 2.5b Two days later, the doorbell rang just as Dana had started a fire in the fireplace in an attempt to take the chill off the room. She had only been in the house ten minutes. Someone must have been watching. Winter's cold wind blew in as she warily opened the door. A man filled her doorway. For a moment, back lit by the lights from the street, she thought it was the 'Hunter' again, only this man was even broader. "Dr. Scully?" inquired the clipped, authoritative voice. Dana turned on the hall light. "Yes?" The evening had darkened significantly since she had gotten home. This was a big man, not fat but solid. Even though he wore casual pants and a sports coat under a huge army-green parka, he could just as well have been wearing a uniform. He had military written all over him, except, surprisingly for his face. His face was round, hair thinning. No real expression, not yet, but not a cruel face. Just an official face. He was probably about Dana's own age though she knew she looked younger and he, older. "I'm Daniel Chesterton." He went up a notch in Dana's appraisal. He had not tried to impress her with either his uniform or his title. Two points for him. "Come in." She took his coat. "Would you like some tea?" she asked as she led him into the living room. "That would be appreciated," he told her. "The weather's raw." He sat down in the chair 'Mulder' had last sat in. She thought about telling him not to, but changed her mind. To have someone else sit there was a blessing. She had been avoiding it. She made the tea, heard sounds from the living room. He was a restless man for all his size. She found him standing by the mantle. He had tended the fire and was now examining her photos. She felt her stomach twist to see he was looking at the photograph of Mulder and her together. "I take it that's Fox Mulder," he said, accepting the tea but not sitting. "Many years ago." Dana thought sitting down on the couch with exaggerated calm. "The kind of activities you two were engaged in -" he began, obviously not pleased. "What about them?" Dana asked taking the offensive. His eyes took on a steely sheen. "Over the last two days, since Under Secretary Skinner contacted me, I've done a lot of reading on Mulder's work with the X-Files. Infiltrating government installations, restricted zones. I'm surprised you weren't arrested -" "We were," Dana retorted, her gaze steady. "You put yourselves in danger with those kind of activities and compromised National Security. Why?" "For the truth," she said simply. She would play Mulder's game here, or maybe it was hers now, too. His expression was hard. "You were, on occasion, accused of getting good men killed by your irresponsible actions." He was trying to grow above her, unnerve her. "If you read our files well, you will see that there were never any formal charges." "Just multiple FBI disciplinary hearings and suspensions." Dana Scully set her tea down and stood up, all five feet two of her. "There were a lot of people trying to protect their butts over the X-Files. Some of them good people like Walter Skinner. You work for the government. You know how it is. So Mulder and I got a little down time. Lord knows we needed it. It was all a game, as well you know. Just like what you are playing now is a game. What is this? I don't need this. There are more important issues at hand then going over ancient history." He looked down at this bristling bundle of outrage and nodded once in approval. He took his tea from the mantle where he had set it down and took the chair again. His face relaxed, as did his posture. It was as if another man sat before her. "At ease, Dr. Scully. I just needed to know if you still had all the fire I read in your reports. I needed to know if you would stand up to me. I have veterans under my command who are too afraid to speak their mind. When I need their ideas, their opinions, they give me silence. Useless baggage." "This from a military man?" Dana inquired, clearly surprised. "Don't get me wrong. There is a time for giving and taking orders. Just as there is a time for gathering information. Some people don't seem to know the difference. Do you?" "You read the X-Files reports. What do you think?" "That you don't. At least, that you don't know when to take orders. At least that Mulder didn't." "Some of the orders were stupid. To follow them would have been dangerous. Besides, we weren't in the military," she defended. "We were paid to think and act. We did." He took a large swallow of tea but his eyes never left her face and she did not back down. "But between the two of you, you had to agree on a plan of action." She shrugged. "You must know about Mulder. Mulder was brilliant, though most considered him difficult. His initial hypotheses were often outlandish, but we usually met in the middle. In the end, he was seldom far wrong." She paused before continuing and when she did she looked at the General with firm eyes. "We were partners. Do you know what that means?" The General nodded. "We have them in war, too. A 'buddy', to watch your back in a battle. With your buddy, you don't have to ask. You just know he'll be there." Dana nodded slowly. "But you are no brother," he added, looking at her with a man's eyes, and somehow she did not find his chauvinism offensive. Perhaps because he was so matter-of-fact about it. "Our relationship was - unique," she agreed. "But then you had an army and we were alone." "If we accept this assignment -" "I have no choice," Dana responded firmly. He set the cup down and leaned towards her, his elbows on his knees. "If *I* accept this assignment, we'll need to be like that," he insisted. "Buddies, partners, if you will. There's not a lot we can plan ahead for." He stood up and walked purposely up and down the room. Not Mulder's restless prowl. "I know what they want me for, but I'll need to depend upon you a lot for cues. You have their trust and you have more experience in this sort of thing than I do, but I've been involved in more than you might think." She saw the solidness settle over him again. He had seen things, she could tell. And he would be unwavering in a fight. A good 'buddy'. A rock. "I hope you'll tell me," she said. "About what you've been involved it." "What I know, you'll know. But you must be willing to leave the 'official' parties to me," he told her. She agreed with that. She had no desire to pick fights with cancerman's successors. *He* had died of emphysema and congestive heart failure five years before. "What makes you think the Shadow people, the men in the black coats, even your own people, are going to let us get near a rendezvous point?" she asked with bitterness. "What makes you think they will not kill her and try to kill us in some *accident* to hide the evidence yet again? Are you ready to die? This is not the war you're used to. In this war you don't know who your enemies are." she admitted. Daniel Chesterton's eyes turned to embers, burning underground. "They won't dare touch us, because I'm leaving a trail a mile wide." He looked at her. "You left the agency after you discovered Nate Wyatt so you may not have heard, but a lot of heads rolled when what had been done to Mulder became known. Many individuals overstepped their bounds. There was a massive coverup. Eventually some paid, but the most significant change is that underlings are not so willing to obey blindly any more." His voice was full of sympathy. "Good did come of that horrible action. Mulder led the way. It is regrettable that more of those responsible were not punished and that those who were punished were let off so lightly. But there is only so much that can be done when no murder has been committed." "No murder?" Dana launched herself from the couch. "How dare you sit there and say no murder? You say you've read the reports. What does it 'officially' say in the records about Fox Mulder?" The general was taken aback by this whirlwind. "That there was some sort of brain damage. That he is no longer the man he was." Dana barked a quick, sarcastic laugh, her small body quivering with rage. "'Not the man he was.' Ah! What a euphemism! As if he were just a little slow maybe, or less aggressive, or maybe that he doesn't have nightmares any more. No! General Chesterton, they killed him. As cleanly as if they had taken a gun and shot him. And as completely as if he were now lying in his grave. They cut into his brain. Everything that was ever Fox Mulder is gone! Gone!" And that was too much for Dana. The anger had slipped over into agony and she sat down heavily onto the couch before her knees gave way. She had sworn to herself she would not cry, not in front of him, when she must be strong and professional. But here she was, full of tears. She felt him come and sit down beside her. Hesitantly, he placed a large hand lightly on her knee, an awkward attempt at an act of comfort. His breath came out tense, harsh. "Those damn, mother-fucking bastards!" he swore. "I didn't realize. I just thought he had a breakdown from the interrogations or a drug, maybe. Some complications from a concussion. They said he was still alive, just changed his name, got a new life." His genuine anger surprised her and helped to cleanse her own grief. Anger was better, after all, going into battle. Yes, revenge *was* a dish best served cold. "A new life, a new name? Yes, his body lives," , "but his mind is gone. Everything that made him uniquely Mulder...is gone." There were no sobs this time, only icy rage. "And now Samantha will come home and he'll never know. After he sacrificed his whole life and all of his happiness to get her back. What a farce! And what if she wants to see her brother?" Dana grumbled sourly. "What do we tell her?" Daniel took her small hand in his huge one. His hands were strong but amazingly gentle. Dana fought panic, felt something crumble within her, a wall, a wall which had chipped into it "Dana against the World". And something rose in its place which she had not felt in a long, long time. "Now I understand better the discussion I had with Secretary Skinner," Daniel said with dawning understanding. "He had the same concern as you. Mr. Wyatt has been informed of the situation and understands the implications. When and if the time comes, when she understands what happened to Fox Mulder, he had agreed to see her." Dana thought sadly. How do you explain a thing like that to a woman after she has been through what Samantha will have been though. Still, Dana was gratified and at the same time, not surprised. Nate Wyatt, from the two times she had seen him, seemed a good person, which was one of the reasons she knew she could never see him again. The big man at her side seemed to sense her distance and had dropped her hand. "I'd better go." He rose and she got his coat. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Dr. Scully," he told her at the door and extended his hand. "I think it will prove to be a very interesting experience." Dana took the proffered hand and looked up, up even higher than she had needed to look into Mulder's eyes, to find his grey ones on hers. They were full of determination for their cause and respect, respect for her. Their hands lingered longer than one would expect and she did not know if that was at his desire or hers. Hours after Daniel Chesterton had gone, Dana sat in the darkened room staring at the chair where the figure that had looked like Mulder had sat and later, Daniel Chesterton. The few embers from the dying fire provided the only light in the room with the exception of the lamp which was pointed at the crossed tape on the window, the window the 'Hunter' had pointed out. In her hours of solitude Dana had come to realize that she had been wrong. She had been living for fifteen years allowing herself to think that Mulder was the only one. The only fighter, the only worthy knight. But as Daniel sat beside her on the couch for those few minutes, she had felt the tension in his body, a tension that was familiar to her. This man blazed with a fire, too. His own fire, his own battles, his own arena. Had fought alone and with those close to him. He had just suffered within the rules, Mulder had suffered outside of them. Dana looked at Mulder's picture in her lap and let the tears roll down her cheeks. How she missed him, would never stop missing him. She put the picture back on the mantle and laid down on the couch, wrapped herself in his old afghan which was nearly worn out now and had long ago lost his scent. On the edge of sleep she thought of him, and opened her soul and felt something like his spirit enfolding hers, a breath of spring in the winter. It helped and once this would have been enough, more than enough, to keep her going, but now she remembered the feeling of Daniel's body beside her, the look in his eyes. Waiting for Mulder, who would never come, brought him no comfort, and her little. Perhaps it was time to move on. No, it was well past time to move on. "Forgive me, Mulder?" she whispered. Wind whistled down the chimney. A cool breath ever so gently touched her cheek. *** 8 months later Dana Scully looked up from her book to see a tall, slender, exceeding fair-skinned young woman moving unsteadily across the sculpture garden like a sailor who has been to sea too long. The young woman sat down beside Dana on her bench. "It's still early," Dana said. "You could stay longer if you wanted. Nate doesn't come to D.C. that often." The young woman smiled a little and began to speak like one who finds forming words difficult. "No, long enough. His son wants to see the revision of 'To Fly' at the... Air and Space Museum at two o'clock and I don't want to keep you. Besides," the young woman added, "I think he felt uncomfortable with me just staring at him." The young woman looked towards the patch of grass under a tree a block away where she could just make out a tall man and a woman and two tall children. They were packing up a frisbee and a picnic lunch. "Oh, he gave this to me for you." The young woman held out a card which Dana took gingerly. It was the first communication they had had. Carefully, she placed it in her book. "He was very handsome, my brother, wasn't he?" Samantha asked. Dana put the book away in the satchel she had used to carry her own lunch. "You should have seen him sixteen years ago." She got to her feet and started walking to where she had parked her car, pausing to let the younger woman catch up. As always, Dana marveled at the tricks time had played. This young woman should be her own age. Samantha placed a hand on Dana's arm to steady herself. "I'll bet he was a real *fox*." Dana laughed brightly. "That he was. And who's been teaching you colloquialisms?" "Daniel, but that one was easy. You might say I had... mo-ti- vation." Samantha Mulder had trouble with that last word. Sam shook her long dark hair in the wind. "Though he was uncomfortable having me there, I could tell Nate is a happy man." They walked on a little. Dana's eyes saddened. "Your brother was never that happy. He missed you so." "Is that why you don't like to see Nate?" Samantha asked. "Because he has the happiness Fox never had." Dana kept walking. "Partly. Mostly, I guess. It hurts too much. Seeing you again would have given him heaven on earth." They reached the car. Dana slid in behind the wheel and the young woman got in the passenger side. "Tell me a Fox Mulder story," Sam asked as they pulled into traffic. "Again?" Dana smiled as she stopped the car at a red light. "Which one?" "The one about the woods," Sam giggled. Dana gasped dramatically. "Oh, no! Not the woods!" "All right, just the part when you were in quarantine then." "Veerry well," Dana agreed, with mock reluctance. "When Mulder got bored, which was often, he would play this trick on the medical staff with a rubber glove, bleach, two gauze squares and a urine sample..." Dana drove quickly. Daniel was waiting. End of Chap 2.5b (Now this is a good place to end the story, but there is a chapter 3. I guess you might say, chapter 3, which has been posted, is optional.)