Hi! This is a little story about Scully, I got the idea after a discussion about how she must feel about her job and the conflicts between parts of her life. "Divine Intervention" By Katherine, aka Rocket425@aol.com The petite woman stood in front of the A.D.'s desk, with the total appearance of a professional. She looked the man straight in the eye as he reviewed the performance of her and her partner on their most recent case. It had been a difficult one, leaving Scully very drained. She and Mulder had worked for weeks alone to establish a profile and motive for the killer. He simply picked names from a phone book, no rhyme or reason to it, and killed them. He felt no remorse in his actions, even as the coroner zipped him away, his words rang in Scully's ears. The man had his gun on Mulder, and had backed him into a wall. His hands were up in the air, all the killer had to do was pull the trigger and Mulder would be no more. Mulder has trying to talk the gun away from him as Scully crept up behind, hearing every word out of the man's mouth. "I don't care about these people, they have nothing on me. They stand in my way. For every one I kill, I'm closer to my goal. I'll finish them all off, you see. And now I'll kill you, too, you mean nothing. You do nothing. You're just a damn fed, all you have to show for your life is a badge and a gun." Suddenly, the situation went awry. In the reflection of the smooth tile, the man saw Scully closing in. He fired, she fired, one bullet rang off the cold walls, one cold body slumped to the ground. "Nice shot," Mulder said. Scully pulled out of the parking lot, her day finished after the meeting's conclusion. She needed to unwind after such a long, hard month of work. She thought about calling her mother, but wasn't really in the mood. Scully settled down on the couch, content to watch some TV for a few hours. Nothing caught her attention. She flipped around from channel to channel, but eventually gave up. What was the use? She still couldn't get her mind off the case. Opening a book, she found herself, eyes reading the words, brain paying no attention. Her fingers turned the pages, robotically. This is an utter waste of time, she realized. Finally, exhausted of her usual activities, Scully changed into her jogging clothes. Her feet pounded the pavement in a smooth rhythm that settled into her head. The tempo was almost enough to drive work out of her head. Almost. She neared a turn on the path, the dusk and the trees combining, if only to aggravate her personal demons more. "Damnit!" She exclaimed, retiring to a park bench. She rested her head in her hands, elbows on knees, and closed her eyes. Maybe this all was too hard for her. Maybe she needed to get out. Take a month off. A year. Stay away from the disease, the abnormality, the things she couldn't understand. The death. Was that it? The death? "Have I lost my edge? My work ethic? Are these cases hitting too close to home?" She wondered aloud. Was she too involved in her professional life, she became to personally committed to every case? After all, she reasoned, I don't have much of a social life any more. My weekdays are filled with early mornings and late nights, and if I'm even in town for the weekend, Mulder and I still get together for some work reason or another. We see each other so much, it's almost like we're married. Still, Scully had felt the competitive edge slipping away lately. Whether it was snapping at Mulder during an investigation, or a poorly handled interview, Scully worried about making a serious mistake, one that could end in death. Death. The one constant in life. Funny, how the one thing you can count on in life, is the one thing that ends it. But Scully was in no mood for irony or philosophy. She just wanted to feel better about herself and her life, to sleep at nights, not worrying about the people on her conscious. Even though during her training at Quantico she had learned the effects of shooting a person, even taking a life, a semester course did not do enough to prepare her for the real world. How was she to face killing people, after years of catechism, of "thou shalt not kill?" Dana had no other choice. She slowly stood up, stretched a bit, then walked the few blocks to St. William's Cathedral. Finding and empty pew, she genuflected and assumed a seat. After a few minutes, a soft pair of footsteps walked up behind her. "Dana, dear, what brings you here?" "Oh, hello Father, I jsut came for some peace and quiet." Yet, something was not right in the young woman's brilliant blue eyes. "Tell me," the kindly priest answered, "what seems to be the problem? You seem distressed." "Oh, Father, I don't know what to do. I work in a very prestigious job, and am one of the few women in my field. I work with a partner who I would trust - do trust with my life, we work in a very high risk job. We have to lay our lives on the line for each other all too frequently. We also have to save each other, too often. I think I'm burning out....I don't think I can take it any more...no, it's not that..." "Tell me, how long have you felt this way?" "Well, I've been working in my current position for three years now, but only recently, in the last few weeks, during our previous investigation, have I felt it. I just feel apathetic some mornings, like I don't want to get out of bed, like what I do doesn't matter." "Does it matter what you do, Dana? Are you helping people? or, do you feel satisfied?" "Of course it matters, I mean, I've saved lives, and helped people. I'm a doctor, I help people all the time. But I dion't feel satisfied. Do the ends justify the means? I guess what I'm getting at is, if I have to kill someone to save someone else, is it worth it?" "You pose a difficult question. There is no definite answer to that one. Would the person have killed others? Or was there some other way to stop this, without such means?" "In most cases, yes, the person would have gone on to kill many other people if we hadn't stopped them. There was a time recently...where I had to shoot someone to save my partner. It was a split second, barely a chance to do it. But I acted, and my partner is alive now. And so are many other people. But someone died because of me." "How does that make you feel?" "I saved people's lives, that feels good, but still....the person is dead...A real person, with a mother and a father somewhere who loves him, maybe wonders where he is. A man that was once a baby boy, once a small child. You can't think that a child is capable of doing such harm. But the child grows up, and can do unspeakable evil. And while I am not responsible for them, I am responsible for myself. And I killed him, how can I live with myself? Is it all a part of my job?" "Dana, I can give you an answer...but I don't know if it's the one that will work for you. I think ultimately you need to decide for yourself. If you ever need guidance, God is there to help you, and He always loves you. Let that be of some help in the upcoming days." Dana smiled sadly and left to walk home. Once inside her apartment, she saw the blinking light of the answering machine. "BEEP! Hi, it's me, thought I'd give you a call. BEEP! Hi dear, it's mom, just calling to say hi. Call me later if you get the chance? Bye." She picked up the phone, dialed her mother's number and spoke to her briefly. She debated going to bed right away, but decided that a little talk with Mulder might do her some good. After all, he had called her. She changed into an oversized tee shirt, slipped under the covers and hit number one on her auto speed dial. "Mulder." "Hi Mulder. How are you?" "I'm doing fine, how are you?" "OK, I guess." He could detect trouble in her voice. "Scully, what's wrong? You sound upset." "I'm tired, Mulder. Could you come over? Now?" "Sure thing, Scully. I'll be right there." He arrived less than ten minutes later out of breath as he unlocked her door and rushed in. "Scully? Where are you?" "In here, Mulder." The voice came from the bedroom. He approached the door, as Scully half walked, half staggered out. "Scully! Are you sick? Here, let me call a doctor. Come, sit down. here, let's sit you in bed, OK? There, that's better. Now, what's the number for your doctor?" "No, no," she gestured for him not to. "Just talk to me. Please?" "Scully, you don't need to ask me a question like that!" With that, he sat on the edge of the bed and picked up her hand. They talked for hours, about the case, and life, and work, and any thing else Scully wanted to talk about. She began to feel better, Scully knew she wasn't the only one who felt the way she did. It was a nice, calming relief to know that Mulder was on her side for stuff like this, and that she could talk to him about subjects like this. Finally, as the sun's first rays slipped over the horizon, she gently fell asleep. Mulder tucked her in, and planted a feather soft kiss on her forehead. He spied a chair in the corner, and decided to sit and wait for her to wake up. And watch her sleep, of course. Yet after ten minutes, he too felt drowsy. His eyes closed heavily, his breathing deepened and he fell asleep. The frst sensation Scully had when she awoke was that there was some other person in the room. Yet, she felt strangely at peace. Mulder. She opened her eyes to see him napping in her chair in the corner. With that, Scully flipped over, and fell back asleep. end