Work Text:
...
Washington, DC
The Triskelion Building
Director Fury’s Office
“It says in your file you've been with SHIELD just over two years,” Fury says, eye flicking over the hardcopy on the empty expanse of his desk. The file is embossed with the SHIELD logo, Scully, Dana scrawled across the label.
“Yes, sir,” Dana replies forcing herself not to shift beneath Director Fury’s gaze. She wasn’t entirely sure she was succeeding.
“You went to medical school but you chose not to practice. Why did you choose to come work for SHIELD?” Assistant Director Hill asks, leaning over the desk to slide the file towards herself.
“Well, sir, I was recruited out of medical school. Um, my parents still think it was an act of rebellion, but, uh... I saw SHIELD as a place where I could distinguish myself.”
“Are you familiar with an agent named Fox Mulder?” Fury says.
“Yes, I am,” Scully replies, curling her fingers together in her lap.
Fury and Hill exchange a look, and Hill flips her hand out. “What do you know about him?”
“I know him by reputation alone. Oxford educated Psychologist, who wrote a monograph on Captain America and the occult, that helped to catch William Burnside five years ago. He’s one of the best analysts SHIELD has. His nickname at the academy was Spooky Mulder.”
…
The Triskelion Building
Sub level 3
two days later
The elevator doors slide up revealing a narrow hall filled with metal shelves filled with neatly stacked file boxes. Each one plastered with the SHIELD logo, as if anyone would ever forget this was SHIELD. At the end of the hall is Agent Mulder’s office, the door is half open, warm light spilling out into the sterile hall. Scully raps her knuckles smartly on the door and takes a steadying breath.
“Sorry, nobody down here but SHIELD’s most unwanted,” shouts a voice, muffled through the door.
Scully stifles the reflex to roll her eyes and pushes the door fully open. The office is a mess, a magpie’s nest of books, stacked files, pictures pinned up on the walls, scraps of newspaper, printed documents. A grainy black and white photograph of a man with long hair and a mask covering most of his face. A vintage typewriter and a dusty nokia phone stood on the cabinet between two framed posters. One poster is of Captain America, creased and stained with age, the other is of a UFO hovering over trees with the words I Want To Believe written below it. The UFO picture is crooked and there is a yellow post-it note stuck the the bottom of the frame.
“Agent Mulder, I’m Dana Scully. I’ve been assigned to work with you,” she says, with a small smile stretching out her hand. Mulder stares at her hand blankly for a moment before taking it in his. His fingers are cold but the handshake is firm if brief.
“Who’d you piss off to get sent down here?”
“No one, actually, I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Oh, really? I was under the impression you were sent to spy on me. As if SHIELD wasn’t full enough of James Bond wannabes as it is. Or Agent Romanoff 2.0 perhaps?”
“If you have any doubts about my…”
“You're a medical doctor, you teach at the SHIELD academy. You did your undergraduate degree in physics.”
...
Puente Antiguo, New Mexico
sixty-three days later
Thor’s hammer falls in the desert.
...
Bellefleur, Oregon
five weeks after the Battle of New York
“So what’s your theory on Captain America being defrosted like a bird the night before Thanksgiving?”
“I don’t have a theory on that, Mulder, can you focus on the case we’re on,” Scully says, flicking through files on her tablet as the car rolls to a stop. She wouldn’t mind getting ahold of a copy of Captain Rogers’ file, or a sample of his serum enriched blood. Now was not the time for those thoughts, now they were on the hunt for Item 33, a piece of alien technology that went missing after the Battle of New York.
“Do you think they defrosted him in the microwave? Industrial hair dryers?”
“Focus, Mulder, we have a case.”
“How could I forget missing alien weapons?”
“Item 33,” Scully says, nonplussed as she unclips her seatbelt and opens the car door. “You failed to mention that this case had already been investigated.”
“Yeah, well a couple of our boys came out here a few weeks ago. They talked to a few of the local hipsters, enjoyed the salmon, and the coffee, then got called back to headquarters. They didn’t find a damn thing.”
“And you think we can do better?”
“Mmm.”