From rhonilak@icontech.com Sun Oct 13 07:36:54 1996
Disclaimer: Surferdude, the weird numbers and a small furry animal own em. I
just used em without permission. 

Summery: One of our favorite FBI Agents gets a promotion, and looks back on
how he lost the woman of his dreams.

Yeah, the title and some of the story was inspired by the John Mellencamp
song, but you won't find the lyrics in here.

Warning: MSR sorta, kinda, Hey! It's *ME*!

Thanks to Deb for editing for me.

I SAW YOU FIRST
by Rhondda Lake

I fumble with the damn bow tie one last time. It's crooked. I hate ties. I
really do. Never liked them. So, of course I work in a job where one is
required daily. I look at my scowling face in the mirror. Too many lines
now. My hair is peppered with more grey then I seem to have noticed
before... I've been at this job way too long.

Tonight is my night. The whole freaking party, all the formal bullshit is
for me. And I knew damn well ninety percent of the people there would be
masking hostility. The others would for the most part start kissing my ass.
How the hell I got promoted to Assistant Director I'll never fully
understand. I suspect one of the forces behind it and resent it deeply. No
one will ever take me seriously. I'm going to have to fight a lifetime of
being looked down on to get anything done. 

So why had I accepted the job? Mainly to show them all that I *could* do it.
To piss some people off, and to mess with some heads. Also so I could move
back to D.C from Chicago. I missed the old cesspool. Who was I kidding? I
missed HER. And in taking this fucking job I was going to torture myself
with her being right under my nose. I guess I'm more into self-abuse than I
thought.

Standing here... looking at myself all decked out in a tuxedo like some
performing monkey, I think back.. to when I realized what a fool I'd been...

I knew something was up the moment she walked into the door and shoved a
file under my nose. She was smiling. The most beautiful smile I had ever
seen on her. Her electric blue eyes practically shone. I managed to pull my
eyes away from her too-angelic face to the blinding brilliance of her auburn
hair and look at the case file shoved under my nose. Then I saw the ring. It
wasn't huge, it was rather moderate, a marquise cut I noted in some detached
part of myself. A part not shattering at that moment. A part of my soul not
consumed with a wail of agony. That must have been the part that pasted on a
plastic smile, forced cheeriness into my voice and allowed me to say with
relative calm... "Congratulations, Scully."

She beamed. Her happiness was as absolute as my misery. "Thanks. I wasn't
sure you'd notice." She actually blushed. I didn't think she ever did that.
She was too strong, too confident for anything as girlish as blushing.

I took the file from her and began working on it. I don't think I really
noticed what it was about. An X-File, of course. But what case? My memory
fails me. All I remember was wondering what had happened? When had I lost
it? When had I let her slip away? I think it took me an hour to realize I
never had it. Never really had her. Sure, we worked together. We were
friends even... but not once did I tell her how I felt about her. Not once
did I tell her the truth. Love is a four letter word you know. And you never
realize what you have until it isn't yours anymore. I guess in my case it
never really was mine.

I knew the lucky man, of course. I knew he was an arrogant asshole. A
complete jerk. And I knew if I said one frigging thing, I could kiss our
friendship goodbye. So I suffered in silence and while I really and truly
wished for her happiness, I also wished he'd get hit by a garbage truck or
something. 

Scully was getting married. She was leaving me. My life was finished. I
applied for the transfer that afternoon.

She had to have known about it, but she didn't say anything to me. Not once.
I think on some level she knew. She knew why I was leaving. I think that
hurt most of all. She knew, and it didn't matter. She didn't feel the same
way. I guess it really was for the best.

I was invited to the wedding, of course. I sat there, right next to AD
Skinner himself. The groom looked confident. No nervous jitters, just fully
attentive to the bride. Good. I recall thinking to myself that if he brought
one tear of pain to her eyes I'd shoot him. After all, I carry a gun and
contrary to popular belief I know how to use it. 

Skinner even smiled at me and told me the groom was a lucky man. I nodded,
but couldn't answer around the lump in my throat. I watched the two people
at the front of the chapple lost in their own world, shutting everyone else
out in their happiness, and I allowed myself to die inside.

I danced with the bride at the reception. I can still see her new husband
looking at me with something close to sympathy in his eyes, and I wanted to
pound him into a bloody pulp, wanted to run from the reception so fast they
wouldn't see my dust. I just finished the dance, wished Dana every happiness
and faded back into the crowd of guests. I did leave shortly after. I don't
think they noticed. After all, I was just one more co-worker among many that
day.

The next day I started over in Chicago. And not a day went by that I didn't
think about her. Dana. Everything I could ever hope and dream for. The
reason I never could find happiness elsewhere. I tried. God how I tried. But
every relationship I got myself into was doomed from the start. Hollow.
Empty. Short women with red hair and blue eyes who could never be who I
wanted them to be.

My only contact with Dana had become Christmas and birthday cards, and
office gossip. Until tonight. The thought made me nervous. 

I picked up my coat, finished straightening my tie, and headed out the door.
----

Director Skinner shook my hand when I came in. I knew he had the final say
in my new position. I knew he probably pushed it through, as well as the
asshole, the bane of my existence. 

I smiled, and told him I was looking forward to the job ahead of me. 

The Hall was full of overdressed FBI people. The up and comings, the already
theres... most giving me "the look". The "how the hell did we end up with
this jerk as AD" look. Some looks were friendly though. Some, rare though
they were, even held genuine happiness for me.

I wove my way through the crowd. Smiling, shaking hands, becoming one of the
bureaucratic false faces I never could stand. 

Then suddenly, she was there. Fifteen years had passed, and she was still
beautiful. There was some gray in the auburn of her hair, a few lines around
her eyes and mouth, but they added character, and in no way detracted from
her loveliness. I heard she had two children starting high school soon. She
didn't look it at all. I suddenly wished I could see those kids, know what
they looked like. But I was still afraid of seeing their father in them and
hating them for it. Dana Scully stood before me in deep blue velvet, and my
hands ached to reach out and touch her. I managed to still them.

Her smile was genuine, her eyes sparkled. "Congratulations. I always knew
you'd go far." She shook my hand. Impersonal, as her smile was not.

"Thanks, Dana. I have a feeling I owe part of this to you, don't I?" I felt
a lightening of my mood with her before me. She always had brought out the
best in me. 

"Not really, I did give you a good recommendation but you deserved it."

Then... he was there. The bane of my life. The darkest spot in my universe.
Her husband stood beside her offering his hand, smiling, ignorant of my
hatred, of the misery his very existence caused me.

"Nothing in the rule book says an AD has to have a prolonged time in the
field. You're the best at what you do, Pendrell. You'll make a great AD.
Keep the assholes on their toes, anyway."

I shook the hand of my fellow AD - Fox Mulder - and nodded, pasting on
another false smile. God, how I hated him. What made it worse was I think
both of them really were happy for me. 

----Finis

Comments? Ok how many actually guessed Pendrell was telling the story?