***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.

ARCHIVING: Please link to the full text of the series:
http://shannono.net/leftfield/stories/LessonsLearnedFull.txt

==========

Lessons Learned: Honesty
by shannono
shannono@mindspring.com


Series, Mulder/Scully Romance, Scully first person

Rated PG

Spoilers through "Three of a Kind"

Summary: A little honesty can go a long way.

Additional notes at the end

Thanks: To Brandon, for another outstanding beta job. :)

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Lessons Learned: Honesty
by shannono


My head is up and my back straight as a ramrod as I lift my hand
and knock sharply on the door. I am outwardly calm, and I will
remain that way.

But looks can be deceiving.

I can hear shuffling sounds from behind the door and resist the
urge to glare up into the security camera. The sounds stop for
an instant, then begin again, and I hear the plethora of locks
being released.

The door finally swings open, slowly, as if the denizens are
fearful of what they might find -- as well they should be. But
I merely nod, and in a level voice say, "May I come in?"

Frohike nods in reply, a little jerkily, and I step through the
doorway into the dimness of the Lone Gunman offices. I don't
wait for the door to be closed behind us, simply walking toward
the desk where Byers sits, a page proof in his hand, his eyes
glued to the small, black letters.

I don't for a minute believe he's actually reading them.

I glance to my right, just in time to catch Langly looking at
me. His head snaps back around to face the computer in front of
him, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

They're afraid of me.

Good.

"Gentlemen," I begin in a cool voice as I see Frohike return
from the door. "I believe we have some unfinished business."

The room becomes so silent that for a moment the only sound I
hear is my own breathing. I believe I have their attention.

I take a few steps forward and turn slightly so that I can see
them all, and they can all hear me clearly. And I begin.

"I have just spent a half-hour talking with Agent Mulder," I
say. "We have determined that the three of you, over the course
of your association with him, have made numerous recordings of
your telephone conversations. Most of these have come without
his knowledge or consent. And while this is technically not
illegal, I must remind you that impersonating a federal agent
*is*. I could, by all rights, arrest you all right now."

All three spines stiffen at my last statement. Langly actually
turns toward me and opens his mouth as if to speak, but I
simply look at him, allow my eyes to show a hint of the rage
boiling just beneath the surface.

He subsides, and I continue.

"Agent Mulder and I deduced that one or more of you edited 
previously recorded conversations together and used the
resulting audiotape to get me to go to Las Vegas." I pause
and glance around me, to see Byers' eyes closed against my
words. His reaction confirms that, as I suspected from the
nature of the events which have occurred, he is the guilty
party.

"I realize that your actions were driven by emotion, rather
than reason," I say, my tone still calm and reasonable. And
then I harden my voice. "But there is absolutely no excuse
for the manner in which you exploited my partnership with
Agent Mulder."

I remain calm, but my voice is laced with anger now. "I was
awakened in the dead of night by what I believed was my
partner," I say. "His voice asked me to meet him in Las Vegas
and told me it was important. I trust my partner, so I agreed."

I pause for just a second. "Listen carefully to those words,
gentlemen," I say. "I *trust* my partner. There is very little
in this world as important to me as my *trust*. And there is
very little that enrages me more than for someone to use that
trust for their own gain."

I give each of them a long, hard look, then say, "You, gentlemen,
have exploited my partnership with Agent Mulder. You have
exploited his partnership with me. You have used our trust and
our relationship for your own purposes. You have lied to me, and
in doing so, lied to him."

Their heads are lowered, shame written on their faces. Good.
They deserve everything I've given them, and more.

And I'm not done yet.

"Your actions this week have been inexcusable," I say. "You have
betrayed the *trust* that Agent Mulder and I have placed in you
over the years. You have severely damaged your friendship with
Agent Mulder and have left me unable to place any amount of
faith in any of you. While I appreciate the fact that you
assisted me after I was drugged, the fact remains that I would
never have been placed in such a situation had you not deceived
me."

"Scully ..."

Frohike's voice comes from behind me, and I raise one hand, palm
out, as I turn to face him.

"Don't," I say. "I am not here to listen to attempts at
explanation or apology. I am here to explain to you the results
and repercussions of your little escapade have been, and will
be. We realize you have helped us many times in the past, and
we will, in time, be able to forgive what you have done."

My voice hardens again. "But do *not* expect us to forget, and
do *not* expect us to forgive again if you ever do anything like
this in the future," I say. "You are more than aware of the 
ongoing situation in which Agent Mulder and I are involved, and 
you should be able to grasp how essential it is that we trust
each other implicitly. We do not take kindly to anyone who 
threatens that trust." Including ourselves, my mind supplies, 
but I ignore it; now is not the time for distractions.

I look around at the three men again. "What saddens me most about
this entire escapade is that you apparently did not consider the
one thing that might have saved you," I say. "After everything
that has happened between us over the last few years, I cannot
imagine that none of you would have thought of it."

I stop and wait, knowing one of them will eventually have to
ask. And Langly finally does.

"What's that?" he says, and I swivel to look directly at him.

"It's very simple, Ringo," I say, my words slow and distinct.
"Next time, try honesty."

My eyes hold his as this sinks in, and then I allow my gaze to
travel across the other two. When I'm satisfied they've heard
me, I turn on my heel and, without pausing, walk out the door.

==========

I slip into Mulder's car a minute later, catching sight of
the small grin playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Something funny?" I ask dryly.

"You," he says simply, the smile widening into a full-fledged
grin as he turns his head to look at me.

I arch an eyebrow. "Oh?" I say. "How so?"

He continues grinning. "You were simply ... magnificent," he
says in a grand voice, and I can't help myself; I return the
smile.

"I've had plenty of practice," I say, reaching under my jacket
to extract the wire I placed an hour ago. "All these years of
dealing with *you* with a straight face have finally paid off."

Mulder chuckles lightly and shakes his head as he starts the
car. "Yeah, I didn't even need the visuals to know exactly
what expressions you had on your face," he says. "I've seen
them all directed at *me* enough times."

I shrug. "As long as it worked," I say, my tone turning serious.
"The setup might have been funny, especially considering you
were listening to every word and they never knew it. But the
facts remain the same, and they *have* to realize how serious
this was."

Mulder sobers. "I know," he says, sliding one hand from the
steering wheel to reach for mine, interlacing our fingers. "When
you called and said you were in Las Vegas, my first instinct was
to laugh, but when you told me why you were there ... well, I
saw red." His face twists wryly. "It's a good thing you managed
to stay level-headed enough to keep me from doing what I *really*
felt like doing to them."

I squeeze his hand lightly. "Believe me, I felt the same way,"
I say. "I was ready to roll some heads when I realized what
they'd done. I did mean what I said in there -- I can forgive
them this. Once. But I won't forget, Mulder. We have enough to
deal with on our own without having to worry about them pulling
this kind of thing again."

He nods slowly, and after a few moments of silence I notice he's
chewing lightly on his bottom lip. This usually means one of two
things: He's about to try to drag me off on some small pretense
of a case and is worried I'll shoot him down, or he's about to
delve back into the area of our still-changing personal
relationship -- and is worried I'll shoot him down.

Well, his hesitation is completely understandable, seeing as we
haven't broached the subject since we parted at the baseball
field a week ago. Monday at work was a little awkward at times
but otherwise normal; I think we were giving each other a little
time to get used to the idea before diving back in.

But then I got the phone call at 2:30 Tuesday morning and was
off to Las Vegas. I didn't get back until late last night, and
we spent our only two hours together since then deciding what
to do about the Gunmen.

I've thought quite a bit about our kisses at the ballpark, of
course. My mind turned the whole evening over and over a dozen
times on Sunday alone, while I did mundane things like housework
and laundry. And I'm no closer to deciding where we go from here
than I was then.

The only thing I know for sure is, no matter how slowly I am
willing to move ahead ... I don't want us to go back.

So this time, I take the initiative before he can.

"Doing anything tonight, Mulder?" I ask.

His eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, and he glances at
me. "Uh ... no, nothing in particular," he stammers out.

I've obviously flustered him, and I swallow a grin. I rarely get
the best of him this way, but it's *so* much fun when I do.

Calmly, I ask, "How about dinner? My treat."

He looks at me again, a little longer this time. I think he's
completely speechless at first, but then he smiles, a slow, soft
smile that glows in his eyes. I can feel it resonating deep
inside me.

"Agent Scully, are you asking me out?" he says, his normal teasing
tone back in full force as he turns his eyes back to the road.

I smile a little Mona Lisa smile. Asking you *in* is more like
it, I think, then shake off the thought. Don't go there, I tell
myself.

Instead, I just squeeze his hand again. "Dinner, Mulder," I
repeat. "Don't press your luck."

He seems to deflate just a little, but before I can say anything,
he rubs his thumb across the back of my hand. "Dinner," he
answers, his voice low and throaty. "I can do that."

A little shaken by his reaction and my own muddled thought
processes, I lean back against the seat, Mulder's thumb still
brushing across my skin. My mind starts running back over my
encounter with the guys, and one thing comes back to me above
all else, the last thing I said to them.

"Next time, try honesty," I'd said.

But here I sit, ignoring my own advice. Lying to myself -- and
to Mulder -- about what I really meant by my invitation.

You can do this, Dana, I tell myself. You've taken much larger
risks than this. You can take a little, tiny step here.

And so I do.

"Mulder," I say softly, my eyes half-closed. He turns his head
just a bit to regard me from the corner of his eye, and I smile
gently.

"Will you go out with me tonight?"

==========END==========


Additional notes: The first section of this story is something
I've found sadly lacking in most of the post-"3ofaK" fic. Most
people seem to have treated the Gunmen's actions as one big 
joke, but when you think about it (as I obviously did, although
it took me a while), it was a pretty damn serious infraction, 
against both Scully *and* Mulder. I thought they deserved at 
minimum a dressing down, and I thought Scully was the perfect 
person to give it to them.

Agree? Disagree? Well, honesty compels me to say that I love
feedback. Of any kind. shannono@iname.com