Work Text:
Jodie turned to duck into her office, coffee clutched in her hands as if it were the very elixir of life, when a conversation jolted her concentration.
“Scully’s getting as spooky as Mulder, these days.” That was.. Jim? From violent crimes, she was pretty sure.
Jodie slipped out of her office, down to the doorway of the break room.
“It’s a waste of money, I’d say.” Marie, Jim’s partner responded.
“They did get the Pusher,” A third voice, one Jodie didn’t recognise, “If he actually was doing all that.” She could practically hear the eye-roll in that sentence.
Jodie didn’t try to understand the X-files. Some people (mostly Fox Mulder) said that they were alien reports, some said it was just a load of bullshit, and others that it was a mixture. Hoaxes, genetic experiments, government coverups, genuine crimes. Jodie couldn’t help but hope it was the latter. She liked Dana, from what she’d seen of her. They’d worked on a case together, briefly. Dana had done the autopsy.
She could still remember how Dana’s hands worked as if a corpse were a Van Gogh, the skill and effortless glide of her blade. Jodie almost wished she was the corpse.
But, everyone knew Dana Scully didn’t date, not really.
“I swear, they’re both married to the bloody FBI,” that was Marie, again, “Or each other.”
The gossipers all laughed, and Jodie couldn’t ignore the pang in her chest.
She’d find an X-file. One day. A case that Dana couldn’t ignore.