Title: Interregnum II: Negotiations (1/1)

Author: Horatio

E-mail: Horatio1013@aol.com 

Summary: Doggett and Scully deal with an awkward issue in 
their partnership. 

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Category: V, Scully/Doggett partnership 

Spoilers: General season 8. Takes place sometime after 
Salvage.

Archive: Fine with me! Just let me know.

Disclaimer: Characters from the X-Files are the property of 
Ten-Thirteen Productions and the Fox Television Network. No 
infringement is intended, and no money is being made from 
this endeavor.

Author's Notes: This story is part of a loosely-knit series 
of Doggett/Scully vignettes. While each stands alone for 
the most part, the stories make most sense if they are read 
in order. The stories assume a relationship between Scully 
and Mulder, but present an altered season 8 emotional 
landscape in which Scully and Doggett actually open up to 
each other a little bit. "Negotiations" introduces the 
possibility of S/D UST, so consider yourself warned.



INTERREGNUM II:
NEGOTIATIONS

Somewhere in West Virginia



"I don't like it," John Doggett said.

He stared at the photos of the mountain cabin where the 
killer had taken his young hostage, and chewed his lip. The 
SWAT team was already deployed in the woods around the 
cabin, ready to provide cover.

Cover for Scully.

A deep frown gouged Doggett's features as he tried 
desperately to figure out a plan better than the one 
currently being floated. Yeah, the SWAT team would provide 
cover outside, but once Scully went through the door of 
that cabin. . .

He bit back a curse. If it hadn't been for the cattle 
mutilations, which turned out to be a vicious prank, he and 
Scully would never have been called out here. And they 
wouldn't have been on deck when a madman shot a local 
schoolteacher and kidnapped one of her students. And they 
wouldn't be facing the shit-hole operation they were facing 
now.

"What don't you like about it?" asked Scully. 

She sat next to Doggett at the table on which the photos 
were spread, in a rural diner less than a mile from the 
killer's cabin. The FBI had commandeered the diner's small 
banquet room for their operations center, and here the two 
agents conferred.

"You'll be placing yourself at unnecessary risk," Doggett 
replied.

"It's a necessary risk, and within reasonable parameters." 
She knew she was risking that other life inside her as well 
as her own, but she couldn't let herself think about that 
or she'd go crazy. This other child, the one who was alive 
and terrorized today, needed her help *now*. 

"I'm the only one he has been willing to talk to," she 
said, "the only one he'll let in there. I have to do it." 

Doggett cursed again. More shitty luck that this asshole 
had a soft spot for a feminine voice on the other end of 
the phone. "We should both go in."

"He won't accept it, you know that."

"We can persuade him." He turned away from the photos and 
looked directly at his partner. "*You* can persuade him, 
Agent Scully. He'll listen to you."

"How can I persuade him if he won't talk to me?" Scully 
raised her voice in exasperation. "He has stopped answering 
the phone, he has ended the negotiations, he has issued his 
ultimatum. We have no choice."

"There's always a choice. We haven't explored all the 
options."

"All the other options put that child at risk! We can't 
allow that."

Why do I always end up arguing with this woman? Doggett 
wondered. Something was happening here, something he 
couldn't quite figure out but that was getting out of hand. 
He felt fear and dread on a scale he wasn't used to. And as 
a seasoned cop and a soldier, he thought he'd experienced 
it all. He didn't believe in premonitions, so there must be 
something else going on. He just wished he knew what the 
hell it was.

He ran his hand roughly through his hair. "No, I can't go 
along with it."

"What? You're not making sense, Agent Doggett. Why can't 
you go along with it?"

He slammed his hand on the table and shot up from his 
chair. "Because it's STUPID, that's why!" 

"It's NOT stupid!" She was on her feet now too and in his 
face, her eyes blazing. "It's--"

She was interrupted by a rap on the door, and one of the 
agents from the regional office stuck his head inside. 
Scully and Doggett turned as one. 

"WHAT??" 

The hapless agent, confronted by two pairs of furious blue 
eyes, stuttered, "Uh, Agent Scully, when. . .uh, whenever 
you're ready. . ." 

"Give us a minute!" barked Doggett.

The agent muttered, "Sure," and the door closed again.

Scully was shouting now. "How *dare* you obstruct this 
operation! It's the only plan that has the slightest chance 
of saving that child! Surely saving a child's life has to 
mean something to you." 

It was a blow, and Doggett felt a vessel throbbing in his 
temple. His voice rose another notch. "Of course it does! 
But can't you see that this plan not only won't save the 
kid, but will get YOU fucking killed as a side dish?" God 
almighty! He couldn't even control his tongue! What the 
hell was the matter with him?

"I'm more than prepared to take that risk," she countered. 
Then she paused, and her anger seemed to deepen. "Or are 
*women* not allowed to take risks in your universe, Agent 
Doggett?"

"Don't give me that shit! It's not about you bein' a 
woman!"

"Then what *is* it about?"

"It's about you being YOU!" The words tumbled out of his 
mouth before he realized what he was saying . . . before he 
realized what he meant. 

And suddenly he understood what was going on here.

Shit! When had it happened? How long? When she had invaded 
his nightmares? When she had asked him his son's name? Or 
all the way back when he had held her sobbing in his arms? 
Shit! He didn't expect feelings like this at this stage of 
his life. Especially with a woman whose affections lay 
elsewhere. He knew better than that.

"What do you mean?" she was asking him. "What the hell are 
you talking about?"

He gave his head an angry shake. "This isn't gonna work."

"It *will* work, damn it! We have a chance here."

"No, not that." He waved his hand impatiently, turning and 
walking away from the table. "This. This partnership. It's 
not gonna work." His voice was so low, Scully could hardly 
hear him. He stood with his head down, arms hanging limply 
at his sides. 

Scully had felt more than once that this pairing by Kersh 
was doomed, felt it every time they butted heads over their 
differing approaches. But it irritated her inexplicably to 
hear *him* say it. "Why exactly won't it work?"

Doggett stared at the wall. How could he answer her? How 
could he explain without looking a fool? His jaw clenched 
angrily. John Doggett was no man's -- or woman's -- fool.

The silence lengthened uncomfortably. Scully, seeing the 
lines of tension in his forehead, tried a more placating 
approach. "Look, if it's about me being me, as you said; if 
it's about my methods, my style, whatever, I think--" 

He turned his pale eyes on her, and something in them 
silenced her. "No! No. It's not that. It's . . ." He 
swallowed, and dragged his gaze away from that mesmerizing 
face, thrusting his fists into his pockets. "I'm losin' my 
perspective. My professional judgment is being 
compromised." 

Bafflement clouded her face. "Compromised by what?"

He hated to say it. "By personal feelings." 

Scully stared dumbly. Personal feelings? 

*Personal* feelings? 

Then awareness dawned, and her mouth gaped. Mentally she 
kicked herself for not seeing this coming. The tangle of 
complications it provoked was not lost on her. If - when - 
Mulder returned, it would be enormously awkward. And, as 
Doggett said, it could compromise their work. So terribly, 
terribly complicated.

As her mind worked to compute the ramifications of 
Doggett's confession, she became vaguely aware of emotions 
sloshing under the surface of her mental machinations. 
Suddenly they broke through, and her mouth went dry.

She realized Doggett wasn't the only one with personal 
feelings. 

Oh my God. When had it happened? When he had cut that thing 
out of her back? When he had shared his personal tragedy? 
Or as far back as when he had cradled her bruised and 
bleeding body in his arms? It was something that made no 
sense, that shouldn't be. But there it was.

The realization set her heart to thumping heavily, and she 
found herself looking at her partner with a bizarrely 
amplified vision. She saw every pore and vein on his face, 
every hair on his head. She noticed a dark speck in one of 
his irises, a mole on his chin. Watched in fascination as 
his Adam's apple bobbed down and up, saw for the first time 
the dark circles of sweat under his arms.

Her breathing became shallow. This was wrong, so wrong.

Doggett had noticed the confusion on her face dissolve into 
a shocked enlightenment, and he wished at that moment that 
he could step on a grenade. But instead of contempt, which 
he expected to see next, he saw a blush of . . . something, 
he wasn't sure what, soften her features. 

Then he noticed her lips had parted slightly, her breathing 
was rapid, and her pupils dilated. Damn. He had scared her. 
This complication was the last thing she needed in her life 
right now.

"I'm a liability to you, Agent Scully. After this operation 
is over, I'll ask Kersh for reassignment."

He turned away from her. "I need some air," he said, and 
quietly left the room.

* * * *

Scully found him sitting on a bench on the far side of the 
gravel parking area. His back was to her and he was hunched 
over, elbows on knees, his hands clasped together. She 
crossed over to him, ignoring the curious stares of the 
other agents leaning against their cars.

After he'd left, the explosion of emotions had made Scully 
feel faint, and nausea threatened. After a few moments she 
succeeded in clearing her head and her stomach and, taking 
a deep, cleansing breath, she turned her mind to the 
problem. Problems had solutions, she told herself. You just 
had to know where to look for them.

Doggett heard her steps behind him as she approached. He 
knew her steps now. It bothered him that he knew such 
details about her.

He looked up as Scully took a seat a discreet distance from 
him on the bench. She didn't return the gaze he gave her, 
but fixed her eyes on the pine trees crowding the hillside 
that rose above them. Insects buzzed in the brush, and a 
bird trilled far off.

"We can make this work," she said. 

He answered her with a grunt and a shake of his head.

"We have to," she insisted. He looked at her questioningly, 
and she finally turned to look at him. "I don't want to 
break in another agent to the X-Files."

A beat, then he chuckled. "I'll bet."

The corners of her lips twitched, and the heaviness that 
had weighed him down lightened measurably. 

Scully went on. "When I think of the agents I could have 
been paired with . . ." She seemed to drift off, and 
muttered, "The John Ritters of the world."

His eyebrows rose. "John Ritters?"

"A temporary partner." Then, as an afterthought, "He shot 
me."

Doggett stared. Now he remembered; he'd read the file. 
Christ!

Scully leaned back against the bench and snorted lightly. 
"Mulder wanted to kill him," she whispered.

He straightened up. "I can understand that."

She darted a glance his way, accepting the compliment in 
silence, then looked away again. "So I feel lucky to have 
you." She suddenly became absorbed in her hands folded in 
her lap. "You're a good man, Agent Doggett. A good partner. 
Please don't ask to be reassigned."

"I don't know..."

She felt his gaze on her. When she looked up again, she was 
amazed as always by his eyes: clear, penetrating, probing. 
The slanting rays of the setting sun made him squint a 
little, and furrows formed on his forehead. He looked at 
her as though she were a problem he was trying to solve. A 
mind so different than Mulder's, but a good mind 
nonetheless.

"I understand personal feelings," Scully continued. "No one 
had more . . . personal feelings . . . than Mulder and I 
did. Rather than jeopardizing our professional 
relationship, however, I would say it probably enhanced our 
ability to work effectively together."

She's talking like a textbook, a part of his brain 
registered. She does that when she's being a scientist . . 
. or when she's trying to control her feelings. Her 
feelings for Mulder. 

"Some things are harder," she continued. "The risks. . ." 
She took a breath, and steadied herself. "But it can also 
help you tune into each other, anticipate things, 
communicate at many levels, increase your chances for 
success."

Doggett nodded. "Yeah, I can see how it might have helped 
you and Mulder. Makes sense." He shook his head and looked 
away. "This is different." 

"I don't think you're hearing me, Agent Doggett." 

Doggett looked up sharply, and noticed a pink tinge 
coloring her cheeks.

Scully grappled for a foothold on this slippery slope. She 
needed John Doggett. With Mulder absent she needed 
desperately this man's honesty and integrity and 
professional experience. Needed him despite whatever 
feelings he might have . . . despite whatever feelings 
*she* had. 

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "What I'm trying to say 
is . . . that I think it can enhance *our* ability to work 
together too."

Doggett couldn't quite believe what he thought he was 
hearing. Maybe the feelings she was trying to control 
weren't just about Mulder after all. He felt a strange 
stillness descend on them. The forest sounds stopped, even 
his breathing seemed to cease. Her eyes were imploring him 
to understand, but to not question. Don't ever speak of 
this! they seemed to plead. 

Scully scoured his face for understanding as fear crept 
over her skin like insects. This was such thin ice they 
were on.

His voice when he finally spoke was husky. "I'm not used to 
this."

She licked her lips nervously. "Will you try?"

He looked at her, and didn't know if he could do it. Didn't 
know if he could stand by and watch her risk her life in 
front of his eyes. But he knew also that he couldn't leave 
her alone, or in the hands of a lesser man. 

"Well, I'm willin' if you are." And, he added to himself, I 
promise not to speak of what you're not saying.

She let out a breath, her eyes conveying her gratitude. "It 
will work if you can just trust me, if you let me do my 
job. And," she added, "if you can control your protective 
instincts."

He ventured a smile. "That'll be hard."

Scully pinned him with a look. "It will be necessary."

He nodded. He could see that it would.

"We can do this . . . Agent Doggett."

He wondered if she had almost slipped, almost called him 
John. "All right," he said.

She stood, all business again, only the blush on her cheek 
betraying the emotions of the previous minutes. "Then let's 
go over the plan one more time." 

Doggett stood too. "Just one thing."

"What?"

"I'm gonna follow you in."

"But--"

"In the dark, on the ground. He'll never see me. I'll be 
right outside the cabin." He paused. "Watchin' your back." 

His expression told her there would be no further 
negotiations on this matter. And Scully realized she was 
glad it was so.

She brushed his sleeve lightly with the tips of her 
fingers. "Let's get to work."


End


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