Pattie's Pocketful of X-Fics

As The Hours Go By
Home
Other Items
Collaborations
My Pocketful of Favorites
Miscellaneous
Missing Scenes Fanfics
Stand Alones
After the Truth...
Beyond After...
The Green Goo Fetus Stories
After The Run Series
Journey Series
Updates! Soon.

Enter subhead content here

 
Rated: PG-13. A little language issue.
 
Category: SA, Scully POV.
 
Spoilers: All Things, Redux I and II.
 
Summary: "Time is so precious, now more than ever,"
Scully tells a fellow career woman, as they're stranded
in an elevator.
Archive: Gossamer.  From there, ask and ye shall
receive.
Feedback: I need it to guage what I can do to feed
your hunger for fanfic.  Give me five or six words
and I will write a story. Tell me at: patfiler@hotmail.
com
 
Disclaimer: CC, Ten Thirteen and Fox Studios own the
intrepid agents, and there's no one paying me here.
I'm not good enough to actually infringe on the
copyrighted names and title. (In other words, it
would never get on the air, so the writers for the
show are more secure than they know!) Sandra Blye
is a figment of my imagination.
 
 
 
Dana Scully knew she had to be at the dentist's office by
10:00 a.m. sharp.  Her dentist was very prompt and very
well-organized when it came to the way his office was run.
"Even the dental assistants, ad the hygienists are right
up to the minute on the time they spend with their clients,"
she had told Fox Mulder that morning.  She had phoned him
from home earlier to remind him that she would not be in
the office until the afternoon.
 
"And did they time their children's births to fit into the
schedule, too?" Mulder had joked.
 
"I hope not," she recalled telling him. "That would get
the ob-gyn's upset they hadn't thought of induction first."

Scully really had been trying to be more witty and
spontaneous since her experience with Daniel and the vision
she had seen in the temple.  The thought that each moment in
time, each decision and action could change one's life path
one way or the other intrigued her. She had as many regrets
as she had satisfactions.
 
Today, she regretted not having parked somewhere else and
taken a bus the rest of the way to the medical building.
Some much needed road work, and several parking lots
filled with cars had her convinced the fates were conspiring
against her this particular Tuesday morning in May. When she
did find a lot close enough to the building, there was the
three block walk.  Scully made it to the foyer of the place
with just ten minutes to spare. She prayed the elevators
weren't coming up from the basement crowded to the hilt.
 
"Three elevators, three chances," she muttered, pressing
all three buttons. "Yes!"
 
She ran into the first elevator that opened and pressed the
button for the sixth floor. When it stopped at the second
floor, she hoped only one or two people woold enter as she
was just as insistent on promptness as her dentist. A
young business woman marched into the elevator and
pressed the button for the tenth floor.
 
Then they engaged
in that time-honored custom in North American society: When
in an elevator with strangers, look straight up at the
numbers and keep silent.  The silence was broken soon
enough when the elevator ground and bumped to a halt.
 
"Sh--!" Scully whispered, grinding her teeth--a practice
which had her dentist lecturing for that many a time. It
was not that she was a nervous person.  She just did that
when she was frustrated, and often unconsciously for hours
when looking at notes on criminal acts that had her
completely stymied.
 
"Yeah," her fellow passenger added.  "I've got a client
waiting to close a deal on a factory, and my cell phone
died an hour ago."  The woman hastily pressed buttons
hoping one would make the little prison move.
 
Scully calmly pressed the alarm button, but there was no
buss, ring, whistle or automated voice. The light overhead
blinked and then stabilized. "Dental appointment," she
informed the woman. "He practically asks for a late slip."
 
The woman offered her hand. "I'm Sandra Blye, attorney. 
Real Estate mostly."
 
"I'm Dana Scully, I work in Law Enforcement, for the
government." She wasn't about to say she was an FBI Agent.
Some day, she might neet up with the woman again while
under cover. She looked up at the display, then fished
through pockets, then her purse. "I seem to have left my
cell in the car, dammit.  My partner practically wears
his," she said with a grin. "I guess we're here for a
while."
 
"It looks like it.  There doesn't seem to be an emergency
phone.  I seem to remember the building manager saying he
wasn't going to install them again with the all the abuse
going on."
 
"Sounds like a great workplace.  We have air-tight security.
Of course, everyone IS security where I work."
 
There was an awkward moment of silence.
Sandra Blye, Real Estate Lawyer was becoming uncomfortable,
judging by her toe-tapping, arm-folding and the inpatient
look on her face.  "I'm sorry.  I know there are other
people in this building.  That someone wants this elevator
moving as much as we do. Think the power's out or something?"
 
"Could be," Scully thought. "I did hear there was a chance
of thunderstorms today.  It wasn't raining when I came in.
My dentist is going to have a fit, and my partner is going
to think I was captured by... he'll think I got caught up
into another case without him."
 
"Oh, possessive of his position, or of you?"
 
"No, just overly protective."
 
Sandra just stared and smiled.
 
"Well, he's very tall, and I'm, well, petite.  I think he
wanted to work alone when were first teamed up. A loner.
Now, he worries about me. It's amazing how time changes
people."
 
The lawyer sat on the floor and leaned on the side of the
elevator. "My boss insists on overworking everyone in the
firm.  The more cases, the more profit. He breaks out in
a rash when someone loses out on a deal. He doesn't know
that two of our fellow lawyers at this firm have bleeding
ulcers, that one is about to get a divorce because he is
never home to get to know his wife. I think that's why
they don't have kids."
 
"You're joking, right?  Who's like that in this day and
age?  What ever happened to job sharing, saying you can't
take on any more work than you have... "
 
"Nice thought, but not practical.  It's not just at our
office, Ms. Scully. It's at your drycleaner, your drug
store, even the supermarket. Now don't get me started on
hospitals... "
 
"Now that I think about it, I haven't had a week straight
without out of town cases. I barely get my overnight bag
re-packed and we're off again.  If we're not out of town,
he's profiling, I'm writing up an autopsy report and
translating terms to my boss. We hardly see the light of
day when we're in the building."
 
"You must be a doctor, then." Sandra smiled. "You could go
into private practice if you have the capital, or you could
get a reasonable loan... "
 
Scully rubbed her neck.  "No, not now.  I kind of have my
career, I do get to travel, and I get paid.  It's just
that... well, I remember when my partner wanted me to go
out of the country to take a look at something that had
him absolutely fascinated, and I stayed.  A dear friend of
mine, we were in love once, actually, he was dying in
hospital.  I just had to see him.  I had to make peace with
him, and with his daughter.  He was old enough to be my
father, actually. I felt I owed them something, even if it
was just more time for him to live."
 
"So, you're saying you regret loving that man?"
 
"No."  Scully joined her companion on the floor. "I do
regret a lot of the things I, we did, back then. I was
blessed to learn from him, at med. school and in life,
In some way, I think if I hadn't graduated and hadn't said
seeing him was not going to fulfill me, I would never
have what I have today.  I had cancer at one point a few
years ago, while I was working with my partner, and I think
one of the things that made me want to live was his faith
that he could help me. He wanted to do whatever it took. 
And he did. He sat by me like he was telling God not to do
this to us.  Not me, not him, but us."
 
"He must love you very much.  You're lucky."
 
"Oh, we're just... Who am I kidding? You know, as the
hours go by, so many other things could be happening to
people we care about. We're sitting here so worried about
time, what your client wants, your boss wants, what my
dentist wants and what everyone else in the world wants,
we forget that we're people. And Sandra," she whispered
slowly, eye to eye, "Time is so precious, now more than
ever. Both my partner and I have had too many things
nearly kill us, and still, we don't realize just how
precious every day means to us."  Scully was close to
tears.
 
"Yeah, I can see where you're going with this. I just feel
so, well, I don't feel like me. I haven't felt like myself
in a long time. I don't tell my secretary she can slow down
a bit. I never turn down a case.  Hell, I even go to work
with a splitting migraine knowing that part of the problem
IS the job.  Someone always warns me about stress causing
these headaches, and I just keep running to appointments
half blind, nauseous and my head feels like a huge, over-
stuffed balloon."
 
Scully held the woman's hand and softly asked, "So is it
all really worth migraines, ulcers, and loneliness? It
isn't to me, and I know I'm preaching to the choir when I
hear myself."
 
"It's not all worth it!" Sandra was laughing. "It's just
a job.  I'm good enough at what I do, and I don't need to
take everything they hand me. I can't wait to get back to
the office to tell my boss I can't run any faster than I
already am. The next time I'm asked by George Manning if
I want to go to dinner with him, I am going. He really is
my best friend at work.  Why not away from there?  Who
knows, I might even marry that sweet man.  It's an old
term, but he IS a sweet man, and we're both very similar
in our interests."
 
"Well, if I ever get to my dentist, I'm going to just nod
and smile.  I night even find a dentist who doesn't run
a tight ship.  I think part of the reason I chose him in the
first place is that he knew my father from the Navy.  My
father always had everything organized, and wanted us to be
that way, too. He never actually said it.  It was just
understood.  When he died, I think he felt it wasn't on his
schedule.   Speaking of which," she looked at her watch, "I
think I can just go back to the office and start looking for
a more laid back dentist.  I'll cancel my appointment on the
way back.  Now, when the heck are we getting out of here?"
 
"Well, I guess the run for the coffee is just about any
time now.  So, they'll be calling maintenance in spades."
 
Scully looked up at the ceiling.
 
"What is it, Dana?"
 
"I think I hear something.  Someone's calling us. We hear
you! Get us out of here!"
 
"We hear you!  We HEAR YOU!" Sandra yelled.
Both women banged on the sides of the elevator, and shouted
at the top of their lungs.
 
There were more sounds, the overhead light flickered,
and the elevator was going up.
 
"You still want that Real Estate deal?" Scully asked, as
they stood.
 
"Not half as much as I want a life.  You still want to
answer to an anal retentive dentist?"
 
"No, come to think of it.  I'm not even going to get out
on his floor.  I have a life to live.  My time is precious.
I can't suck up to him with all the time I need to conserve.
As every hour goes by, I miss out.  I need a more relaxed
life. I have a life outside of a schedule, I want a flexible
dentist and I am going to live my life on a new, precious
schedule. You do the same."
                              
 
 

 
 

Enter supporting content here