(I was trying to write Scully/Doggett romance. It ended up gen. *sighs*) "Coffee" by Amatia "Come in for a cup of coffee," she said as they were nearing her apartment building. "Would you?" He looked over at her, then nodded. "All right." He parked in the visitor's space, and followed her up to her apartment. "Please, sit down." A gesture toward the kitchen table as she opened the canister of coffee on the counter and began preparing the machine. "You doin' all right, Agent Scully?" he asked after awhile. "I assure you, Agent Doggett, I can make coffee." She flipped the switch. "It'll take about seven minutes. And please, call me Dana or Scully. Agent Scully sounds so formal, and I--I'm not used to that." "Only if you call me John." She nodded. "It's a deal, John." "And I didn't mean about the coffee. I meant life in general, that kind of thing." "Cream?" she asked in response, opening the refridgerator door. "Please. And you haven't answered my question, Dana." She set the carton of cream on the counter. "I'm a single, pregnant, female FBI agent who's regarded throughout the Bureau as Mrs. Spooky, purveyor of the paranormal, even more so now than my partner's missing. How do you think life is?" "I'm sorry if I offended you, I'll leave if you like --" "No, stay. I invited you for coffee and it's not even done yet. I didn't mean to snap at you, John, I think some of the stress is getting to me. That and I've been stuck in a hospital bed for several days." She stood on tiptoe for the sugar bowl in the cupboard. He stood up quickly and took it down for her, his free hand curling gently over her hip. He set it on the counter, then leaned against the polished slab of wood. "I wish you'd refer to me as your partner," he said quietly. She looked at him, surprised. He supposed she'd ignored the hand on her hip. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I just have a hard time thinking of anyone but Mulder as my partner." "I know. But the thing I don't get, Agent--Dana, is that you seem to trust me. Once we got over our initial...differences, and focused on the work, it seemed like you started to trust me. And I trust you. From what I've heard about your partnership with Mulder, it took a long time for there to be trust between you. I'm not saying there isn't trust now," he said quickly at the look on her face. "But I feel like I'm a temporary replacement, and I just don't see how we can work well together if you regard me that way." She sat down in one of the chairs. "I didn't know you felt that way." "I should have said something sooner, but I didn't feel it was my right. Now, since I have sat beside your hospital bed twice in the space of only a few months, I feel it is. Look, I--I know about loss, Dana. I know what it's like. And I know it's hard to even entertain the idea of trying to put someone else in the spot where the person who left used to be. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, there's not another piece with the same edges. And you don't want to put me in Mulder's place, and I don't expect you to." The coffee was done, and she started to stand. He waved her back down. "I'll pour it. You shouldn't be on your feet too much yet. But you see what I'm sayin' about the puzzle pieces?" "Who was it you lost, John?" "My son. My wife." "How?" He poured coffee into two mugs and set one in front of her. He leaned against the counter with his. "My son was kidnapped seven years ago. Ally couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle living with me while Johnny was gone." "How old was he?" "Eight." "I'm sorry, John." "There's some things in the world that you can't change, no matter how hard you try. I stopped actively trying to find him two years ago, and NYPD closed the case." "Is that why you left the NYPD?" He shook his head. "No. I left because I felt it was time to move on. But I have to admit I never thought I'd end up in the basement of the Hoover Building." "Neither did I." "What did you do before the X-Files?" "I taught forensic pathology at the Academy. They called me in to debunk Mulder." He couldn't help but grin, and she smiled back. "I know what you're thinking. But if you think I jump to some odd conclusions, you should have heard Mulder in action." She shook her head. "Most of the time he made my jaw hit the ground." "I hate to think what I'd do." "I really--I hope you stay with the X-Files when Mulder comes back. At the very least, you can insist on impeccable police work." This time he laughed outloud. "As much as I'd like to say otherwise, not every case I've worked on has been solved soley on the basis of impeccable police work." "Oh?" "I worked on this one case about six years ago. It was this old lady who's husband had disappeared. Her neighbor reported it because she figured the old broad had just murdered him and thrown his body out with the trash, right? Insurance policy and all. So we had teams combing the landfill. Let me tell you, those cops were not happy. Anyway, instead of finding his body, we find two other bodies, skeletons really, two females. Forensics tells us they were in their teens when they were killed --forty-six years ago. Now, this landfill has only been in existence for twenty. So now we've got the missing old man and the two skeletons. Search of all the files for two missing teenagers turns up nothing. Not even a missing persons notice. We interviewed everyone working at the landfill and everyone who'd ever worked at the landfill who was still alive. Not a single person who even seems remotely suspicious. Then we get a call from the old lady, she says her husband's back. So my partner and I go over there, and the old lady's in a rage. Throwing stuff, breaking stuff. And her husband's sitting calmly on the couch, dirty as hell. So we ask her what she's so upset over, and she just starts screaming that he won't even die when she tries to kill him and she's tried many a time, and how he deserves to die because he'd hit two teenage girls forty-odd years ago with their car and never reported it. And my partner and I look at each other in shock, and then we arrest them both. Sure as hell was the strangest thing I'd ever come across." "That's nothing," Scully said. Doggett blinked at her. "You've read the files, John, you know what Mulder and I have done. You don't need to look at me like an owl." She smiled at him. "Well, I sure thought it was odd." "You'll start thinking it was pretty normal soon enough." "I suppose." Doggett looked at his watch. "I didn't notice it was this late. Thanks for the coffee, Dana, but I better be going." "Thanks for the company." Scully walked him to the door. "I'll see you Monday." "See you Monday." *