Chapter Text
It was a dreary day in early March, too cold for any snow, but the evidence of last week’s semi-blizzard still clung to the corners of city streets in hardened, now black-gray masses of icy, hard packed snow. Mulder and Scully had been out of town with no threat of snow for them in a valley in the desert, and honestly, Scully was glad to have missed it.
The spring and summer were her preferred times of the year. Sunny days, rosy flowers, no need for warm hats or scarves or bulky coats. The runny, red noses and frozen fingers were some of the worst parts of winter and she looked forward every year to April showers and May flowers.
She felt like she was being punished today for missing the snow last week with the freezing temperatures. Scully decided to forgo a hat and scarf to avoid looking like a child bundled by their mother and settled on one of her thick and clunky coats with a pair of her soft lined leather gloves. She was too cold as she entered the Hoover Building, but she warmed considerably on the way to the basement and had already tucked her gloves into her pocket as she entered the office.
Mulder was there, as he always was, sitting behind the desk. She offered him a tight smile when he looked up, which he immediately returned. Scully was beginning to feel that perhaps Mulder was the best part of coming into work, especially on cold or rainy days. He was always there to greet her and while both of them could be quite serious, maybe stubborn, during their cases, proving their points, the start of every day tended to be pleasant, and she happily welcomed that on days like today.
“Good morning, Scully,” Mulder greeted her and stood from his chair. “You’re right on time.”
“On time?” she repeated and glanced at the slender watch on her wrist. She was, in fact, fourteen minutes early after catching several green lights on her commute.
“Skinner has summoned us,” Mulder said as he yanked his suit jacket from the back of his chair and slid it on.
“Now?” she asked with a lift of her eyebrows and shrugged off her coat.
“Doesn’t hurt to head up,” Mulder told her and moved around the desk. “He said eight.”
Scully nodded and hung her coat on the rack. “Lead the way.”
Mulder passed by her and she caught a whiff of the cologne that she now associated with him whenever she recognized it in a department store or on another man in the grocery store. A flash of Mulder always popped into her head and she had to shake it off, just like she shook off the thoughts on all the little things she knew about him.
The way he preferred his coffee, his favorite takeout, his favorite shirt, these were all things she knew about her partner now. Things she found her mind wandering to in boredom, or while she cleaned her home, or was stuck in traffic and caught sight of the noodle place he liked. They weren’t necessarily friends, but they weren’t colleagues—they were truly partners.
Scully followed Mulder down the hallway and shifted her weight as they waited for the elevator. It was unusual for Skinner to call them up first thing in the morning, and she wondered if they had done something wrong. They had just finished up their reports from an out of town case about a werewolf cult that led nowhere.
Perhaps he was going to reprimand the fact that they found nothing of note, that they were wasting their time with these cases. But, after all, he had approved their assignments, signed off on their out of town excursions, so maybe there was no issue with the failed case after all.
The elevator doors slid open and Scully followed Mulder into the empty elevator. It began its ascent and Mulder toed at the edge of the elevator where a scuff mark was splotched across the metal. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he glanced over at Scully.
She caught the look, but pretended not to notice because she felt that if she met his eye, she might blush, which was a ridiculous thought in the first place, and if she blushed, she’d need to start a conversation to distract them both from it, and she was drawing a complete blank.
“You catch Seinfeld last night?” Mulder asked.
“Uh, no,” Scully answered, a little off guard, because she didn’t watch the show often, though they had seen an episode once when working together in a dingy motel room. “I was doing laundry last night.”
“Oh, right.” Mulder nodded slowly. “After coming back into town. Laundry day.”
“Right,” she agreed. Anytime they traveled, she always felt both herself and her clothes need a hot wash upon returning home, something she had mentioned in passing that she didn’t know he remembered.
“It was a good episode,” he commented and then added, a little under his breath, “I think.”
Scully raised an eyebrow at him. “You think?”
“Well, it was on when I turned the TV on, so I left it on,” Mulder told her. “You know, waiting for baseball to be back.” His hands were still in his pockets and he rocked on his feet for a moment. “You’re definitely an Elaine.”
“Because she’s the only woman on the show?” Scully replied with a raised eyebrow.
“She’s not the only woman,” Mulder pointed out.
“In the main cast,” she corrected.
Mulder gave a shrug and nodded. “Well, yeah.”
“And who are you?” Scully started smirking. “You think you’re Jerry, but you’re clearly Kramer?”
“I was gonna say George,” he deadpanned.
That got her to laugh, a deep, genuine laugh because his response wasn’t expected, and she found it quite funny.
The doors slid open and Mulder gestured for her to go first, a wide grin on his face. Scully pulled herself together, she certainly wasn’t going to go into Skinner’s office all flushed and giggly. She drew in a deep breath and led the way.
They were allowed to go in on arrival and found their boss sitting behind his desk, glasses on, and focused on the paperwork on his desk. He glanced up and removed his glasses, tossing them onto his desk.
“Morning, Agents,” Skinner said and indicated for them to sit in the chairs across from his desk.
“Good morning, sir,” Scully replied and took a seat.
“What have we got today?” Mulder asked as he sat down in the chair beside Scully’s.
“Missing Persons,” Skinner said. “Emelia Dawson. She's a forty-two-year-old professor at Claymont University in Savannah, Georgia. She hasn’t been seen since Thursday and was a no show for her Friday class. A search of her office and home did not show any signs of distress, nor foul play. She hasn’t used her bank cards, but her car is gone, along with her purse, cell phone, and a large suitcase.”
“So, she left,” Scully concluded, a little uncertain about this case. Without any indication of an assault or kidnap, what warranted the involvement of the FBI?
“Possibly,” Skinner agreed. “But her sister, Senator Cheyenne Hart, swears this is uncharacteristic of Emelia and she believes something happened to her. Emelia mentioned an issue with a student at the beginning of the term, but gave no further details. The school has no indication of any issues from Professor Dawson. Senator Hart is insistent that something terrible happened, so we’re sending you two in undercover.”
“Undercover?” Scully repeated.
“Senator Hart claimed that it’s in the university’s best interest to cover up any kind of student issues or professor concerns; she doesn’t believe they have been truthful,” Skinner continued on. “While the school is cooperating with us, they sidelined local police at first. They agreed to a brief undercover investigation to not alarm students of the potential danger. But the school and police believe this is isolated and possibly without harm.”
“And Professor Dawson has no history of mental illness?” Scully questioned. “Stress?” A professor that may have needed some kind of sabbatical could easily head out of town with cash and disappear for a while.
“Not anything known,” Skinner answered.
“How will we be going undercover?” Mulder said.
“Professor Dawson teaches psychology and has a substitute currently,” Skinner told them. “Mulder, we want you to go in as the interim professor. With your psychology background, it should be easy for you to present the lessons. We want you to speak with other faculty and observe the students for unusual behavior.”
“Will I be his teaching assistant?” Scully asked.
“You will be going in as a student, Agent Scully,” Skinner replied.
Mulder snickered as Scully's eyes widened. “A student?” she repeated.
“A student who is resuming classes after a special case of learning from home,” Skinner explained her cover. “If one of the students is to blame, having your eyes and ears around them will benefit this case. Two weeks, and if you have no sign of any foul play, no suspects, we’ll pull you both. The claims may be somewhat baseless, but with Senator Hart’s push for—”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Skinner stood that instant as the door opened and his secretary led two people into the room. Scully recognized the security detail that accompanied the woman. He was a big guy, muscles taut against his suit jacket, and he was wearing an earpiece and a stern expression.
The woman beside him was a tall brunette and pleasant looking, but the darkened bags under her eyes were noticeable, even though make up was used to cover them up. She was dressed in a burgundy pantsuit and Scully stood upon her entrance, Mulder standing up beside her.
“Come in,” Skinner told them and moved around his desk to shake the woman’s hand. “I’m Assistant Director Walter Skinner, we spoke on the phone. These are the agents assigned to your sister’s case, Agent Mulder and Agent Scully.” They each took a turn shaking the woman’s hand. “Agents, this is Senator Hart.”
“Cheyenne is fine,” the woman replied with a slight smile that faded fast.
“We’re very sorry to hear about your sister’s disappearance,” Scully told her.
“Thank you,” Cheyenne replied with another brief attempt at a smile. “The local police haven’t done much in terms of a search and they seem convinced she left of her own accord, but that is not like my sister. Emelia has always been by the book, she wouldn’t leave without a word to anyone. I’m concerned the college may have had a hand in why this is being kept quiet.”
“Why do you think that?” Mulder asked.
“She said she was having some kind of problem with a student in her class that day, but she dismissed it and never spoke of it again,” Cheyenne explained. “I didn’t think anything of it until she went missing and I was asked if I knew anyone who might harm her. The school had no idea what I was talking about when I spoke with them about the incident.”
“What day was it that she told you this?” Scully replied. “How long ago?”
“It was a Monday, the last Monday in January,” Cheyenne answered. “We talked again in February, but we didn’t talk about her work or students or anything like that.”
“Did she mention anything else about the student that would help us identify them?” Mulder said.
Cheyenne shook her head. “Unfortunately not. But if a student was involved, it doesn’t surprise me that there hasn’t been a response from the college. They wouldn’t want that kind of scandal.”
“We’ll do our best to investigate this and try to locate your sister,” Scully assured her. At least they had somewhere to start even if the case seemed like it was an adult who skipped town.
“Thank you,” Cheyenne told her, the words sincere and sad.
“I’m going to speak a little bit more with Senator Hart,” Skinner said. “Here are the files.” Skinner handed Mulder the box. “Flight leaves tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Scully told him.
“Thank you,” Mulder echoed her and followed Scully out of the office and towards the elevator.
“We can pick through the files and form a gameplan,” Scully said once they were alone in the elevator. “It seems like we’ll mostly be on our own. I can’t believe they want me to go in as a student.”
“Better you than me,” Mulder replied. “I didn’t even fit in when I was a twenty something.”
Scully raised an eyebrow at him. “No?”
“I was studious and quiet, and a little too out there for most, I suppose.” He shifted the box as he gave a small shrug.
“Do you think you could have been a professor?” Scully asked, trying to imagine Mulder standing in front of a lecture hall, droning on about whatever topic he landed on to teach.
“Do you?” he replied without answering.
Scully shook her head slowly. “No, that was never for me.”
“I could shape a few minds,” Mulder decided. “But only if I was very into the material.”
“Like the X-Files. You’d teach a class on that?” A slight smirk was tugging at her lips, but she was trying to save face and hold on to the seriousness of this case. It wasn’t a time to flirt, that was for sure. Not that she was flirting, of course.
“If there were willing students, how could I deny the truth seekers from the truth?” Mulder said.
“Well, maybe we’ll get down to the truth in Savannah,” Scully replied as she exited the elevator on the basement level. She held her arm across to make sure he departed before allowing the door to close.
“I hope so,” he replied and led the way to the office so they could get to work.
It was likely too late for him to be here, but when he thought of swinging by her place to make sure she was ready to go, to make sure she didn’t need any help, he couldn’t get the thought to leave him. That’s why he ended up outside of her apartment building and he saw the lights on, and it only encouraged him to park and head inside the building.
They finished on the early side at work today, after going over Emelia’s life, the days leading up to her disappearance, and their new lives. There was packing to be done, their own lives and backgrounds to flesh out to make them believable, to make sure they wouldn’t slip up, and to have everything they would need since they would be far from home.
Mulder made his way to Scully’s apartment and knocked on the door. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and waited for probably too long, and he was debating leaving altogether, when he heard her on the other side of the door, the locks sliding, and she appeared, dressed casually in what seemed to be gray sweats and a sweater, hair slightly mussed, eyes tired, but he didn’t imagine he woke her. It was just before nine.
“Mulder, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“That’s Dr. Rogers to you, miss.” He lowered his voice, trying to play some kind of part, and he wanted to come off as charming, but he wasn’t sure it worked out that way.
“Doctor, huh?” Scully cocked an eyebrow and stepped back to allow him to enter into her apartment.
“Thought I’d go for the doctorate,” he said as she closed the door behind him. “Doctor Frederick Rogers.”
She stared at him. “Frederick?”
“I go by Fred,” he supplied. “Plucked it from a show I used to watch as a kid.”
“Star Wars,” Scully replied.
Mulder frowned because he wasn’t sure if she actually believed he watched Star Wars as a kid, or if she was messing with him because he sure had mentioned Star Trek to her before.
“Okay, it was Star Trek,” he emphasized. “And no, I was talking about Scooby Doo.”
Her eyebrows flicked up in surprise over his response. Scully wet her bottom lip. “You didn’t think Professor Shaggy was a better choice?”
“Doctor Shaggy,” Mulder corrected as he smirked, but then he shook his head. “But that would be too far-fetched.” He planted his hands on his hips. “How have you been doing? Come up with a name?”
“Working on it,” Scully answered. “I’ve got my white washed jeans and oversized sweatshirts all packed up, so I’m ready to blend in.”
“Do you think you will?” Mulder asked.
“What do you mean?” Scully replied and folded her arms over her chest.
“Blend in with the other students,” he clarified.
“I’m not that old,” Scully told him with a roll of her eyes.
“I didn’t necessarily mean age,” Mulder tried to correct his faux pas. “You’ve got to cut loose, play down that brain of yours. You think you can handle some beer pong?”
“Do you think I’m going to be partying with fellow students?” Scully was now looking at him with what could have easily been contempt.
“It might come to that if a student is to blame,” Mulder said. Going undercover and blending in with the students meant drinking and late nights and pizza at one in the morning.
“I’m not as straight laced as you think I am,” Scully said and let her hands fall away as she heaved out a sigh.
Mulder shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
It’s not that he didn’t think she could do it, but he wanted to make sure she knew that any of these normal student activities could come up and she’d need to join in. But now he seemed to sour the conversation completely.
“Do you want me to pick you up on the way to the airport tomorrow?” he offered, trying to get back in her good graces.
“No, I’ll meet you there,” Scully answered.
“Hey, look, I didn’t mean to offend you, Scully,” Mulder softened his tone completely and raised a single, defensive hand. “This is going to be challenging for both of us. I’ve got to lead a class when I’d rather be playing beer pong.”
Scully rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Dr. Rogers. Just follow the syllabus. I’ve still got more to do, I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.”
Mulder knew that was his cue to leave. He backed up toward the door. “All right. See you tomorrow.”
“Night,” she spoke quietly as she closed the door behind him.
He stood on the other side of the closed door for a moment. That hadn’t worked quite as he wanted it to. He meant to go in all ready, shoot the breeze with her about this case, just… see her. He was too antsy tonight with the flight tomorrow, too ready to dive into this case and unable to rest. All he did was agitate her, not strengthen their bond or… whatever it was he had been trying to do.
But he would see her tomorrow, bright and early, and maybe he’d bring her a coffee and scone or something. A peace offering was always the way to go, wasn’t it? He would find out that answer tomorrow morning.