Disclaimer: I don't own BTVS or any of it's characters, Joss Whedon does. I don't own the X files or it's characters, Chris Carter does. I don't own Scooby Doo, I think Cartoon Network does. I don't own Starbucks, but there are a lot of shameless plugs for them in this section.
What I do own is my lovely vivid imagination and Gloria Cobain, please let me know if you use her in your work.
Author's Notes: I realize this installment was long overdue, my apologies to those who really wanted to read on.
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Part Eight
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FBI headquarters.
Cobain sat at her desk typing up a report of the week's events. One of the major drawbacks of reaching upper management was all the paperwork involved. Government downsizing never completely eliminated the bureaucratic bloat.
Although she was experienced enough to know procedure was just as important as results; she sometimes wished things could be different.
Aside from Buffy's mission, things had been routine. Sure there was tension while the coffee machine was broken she mused. She was not expecting grown federal agents to go nuts until the machine was fixed. she remarked, still in disbelief.
This was one incident that was NOT going into her report.
Lost in deep thought, she did not hear Mulder knocking on the door. The young aloof agent was one of her favorite employees because he believed in an underworld.
Although headquarters preferred to believe he was " off his rocker", she certainly knew better. Unlike Buffy and the Scooby gang, Mulder had not yet figured out how to document the supernatural occurrences.
"Come in Mulder." She said as the rapping finally registered. "Please have a seat."
"Oh, that's alright, I just wanted to check in with you on the case Scully and I were working on." He said.
Mulder had worked under many people since becoming a FBI agent, but he established an excellent rapport with Cobain.
Although he was still fuzzy about the concept of a Hell Mouth and an oblivious town < I still think somebody would notice if people were dying for centuries en masse > Mulder really liked his new assignment.
"And how is your case going." She inquired. Having worked her way through college by writing for newspapers, she preferred to get information through question and answer. Since she wasn't abrasive or abusive, some people had no idea they were being interrogated.
"Great, we're just about wrapping it up." He enthusiastically answered.
Since Buffy had come on board, he felt less pressure to expose the paranormal. Although he still wanted to find his sister, Mulder realized that he did not have to uncover everything that went bump in the night, and some things weren't meant to be discovered.
" We should have the case summary in a couple of weeks." Mulder said. Since he wasn't a bureaucratic type himself, he could empathize with her obvious dislike of paper work.
Many new FBI recruits were so entranced by the idea of a "shiny badge" that they overlooked the more mundane tasks. Some days, he really did not know how she maintained her sanity
he said. Agents trained to handle stressful shootouts and high profile cases became unhinged without a coffee maker.
Although Mulder (having gotten so many of them himself)wasn't keen on sanctions, he thought the agent's behavior was totally out of line.
Because the area this office was in had an overabundance of coffee shops, he did not understand what people were getting themselves worked up over.
On second thought, he decided his boss was embarrassed, but was too polite to show it.
"Okay, that's perfectly fine with me." She said wrapping up the conversation. I'm sure it will be informative." Although she really would have liked to talk with Mulder further, the report had to be finished and sent out.
"I'm going to get a Frappucino from across the street. I will be back soon." Mulder added. He had tried in vain to get Scully to order something, but she declined.
he pondered to nobody in particular. She was hunched over intently studying
Along with himself and a handful of other agents, Scully had the distinction of not going bananas when the coffee machine broke.
Feeling kind of naughty, he wondered what she did get worked up over.
"Bad Mulder, bad." He scolded himself for thinking risque thoughts about Scully. Sure there had been romantic tensions in the relationship, but he had long ago consigned himself to fantasies.
Although he had compiled a collection of adult magazines, Mulder wasn't comfortable thinking of himself as a dirty old man
In the interest of professional behavior, he had kept his distance.
* * *
Because the iced coffee was very cold, Mulder's hands were freezing as he walked across the street back into the federal building. Thankfully he was able to get the door using one hand.
Inside the lobby was an impressive collection of FBI honorees dating all the way back to the agency’s founding.
Although he realized his chances of obtaining this much recognition were slim, he liked looking at the old photographs for inspiration. Aside from Cobain's profile, Mulder was entranced by several other honorees
Since all of the other pictures were photos, a lone painting stood out from the rest. Agent Kennedy led or stood out in several missions during the 1950s.
What little civil rights J Edgar Hoover had allowed the agency to support, Kennedy was an integral part.
Having received several accolades from government officials, he was one of the most decorated Agents for that era. The only unusual thing about Kennedy was all of his activities were carried out at night.
Mulder said to himself in admiration. Aside from the long list of accomplishments, Kennedy had the "secret agent: looks. Muscular with Olive skin and dark features, he looked like the kind of guy that inspired the original James Bond series.
By contrast, Mulder felt like one of those underutilized "cousins of Scooby Doo"
" I wonder what happened to him," he mused. Although the 1950's hadn't (in retrospect) been the greatest decade for the FBI, Kennedy couldn't have vanished.
"He's probably having a nice quiet retirement somewhere if he hasn't already died." Mulder seriously doubted that he was still fighting bad things,
Although the files on Buffy Summers said that she had a friend named Angel, he did not believe they were the same people.
"Jeez, do all crime fighters named Angel look this good" Mulder complained to nobody in particular. The lobby receptionist chose to ignore his outburst
Realizing that appearance wasn't everything, Mulder could not help some of the doubts that began forming in his head.
he exclaimed unwilling to believe the endless similarities between the two The tourists who had been startled by his outburst went about their business.
His mind swimming and hand freezing, Mulder decided it was long past time to return to his office. Perhaps the presence of his own paper work would sedate him.
* * *
Cobain had finished her report by the time Mulder reentered the office. She was now on the phone with headquarters assuring them that there was no breaking news from her section.
As he passed by Cobain's office, she gave him the thumbs up sign.
Once she had gotten off the phone, Cobain allowed herself to wonder about Buffy. Although she knew this slayer wasn't going to double check with her watcher (or anybody else for that matter) waiting for a break in the case was nerve wracking.
Even if her own personal experience made her well equipped to understand the intricacies of this case; she still had a right to be concerned.
The president of the United States really was different than other citizens (including the agents).
Although there was never any doubt that Buffy would rescue the president, Cobain wondered how President Clinton was doing. Many people tended to laugh at the existence of vampires until they actually came face to face with one.
She was certain that the President had gotten the shock of his life but (if he didn't have heart problems) it was unclear whether he was dead or still living.
Because he had no real control over the nation's blood supply (he could only suggest that people donate blood) Clinton was in a bind. Cobain really hoped Buffy would reach him before it wasn't too late.
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