I own nothing of this series and I'm broke so don't sue me ...

Summary: Did you ever wonder if M&S had friends at the FBI? (besides Skinner?) What if those friends forced them to face the truth?

P.S. This is my first posting, so be gentle.

Chapter 1

"Mulder, are you sleeping?"

Mulder sat forward in his chair and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "No, I was reflecting, Scully," he replied innocently.

"In the dark Mulder? Really, you need to be more careful, we're not in the basement anymore." Scully replied caustically as she set her computer bag on her desk. She stared at her partner frustrated by his attitude, then reached over and turned on the desk light.

"No one knows better than I that we aren't in the basement anymore. We are part of the FBI FC now," Mulder retorted and swiveled in his chair to face his partner.

"FBI FC?" She looked at him with raised eyebrows. "You are starting to sound like Nester and Driscoll."

Mulder smiled and flicked a pencil around his finger. Nester and Driscoll were two agents who had been transferred in from the Chicago field office. Jung Nester was a tall, dark haired, lanky Asian male, and had worked as a police officer in Chicago before joining the bureau. Jeff Driscoll was shorter, white hair, with a quirky personality. Driscoll was previously a member of the Iowa State Patrol. Both Nester and Driscoll had been with the bureau for five years in the Chicago field office.

They had founded the 'Flunky Corner' a year ago when a drug bust blew up in their face and they were sent to the 'house' on probation. Mulder knew some sketchy details of the incident, none of which was good. An agent and a child were killed, Driscoll and Nester were handed the blame, despite that it wasn't entirely their fault. 'If it looks bad, than it's bad for the FBI' was the ole tag line that Skinner had told him after the Dallas bombing. It was all crap in his opinion. In any event, the four of them fell into an instant friendship and they often shared a drink or dinner after work. One common denominator of the four, Kersh had no love for any of them.

"Who better to understand the 'Flunky Corner' than the original flunkies?" Mulder shrugged his shoulders at his partner. "Where are they anyway? I haven't seen them since yesterday."

"What makes you think I know where they are?" she replied flipping through some mail on her desk.

Mulder chuckled and leaned back in his chair again. "Because you would, Scully. That is your thing; you know the answers, the concrete facts."

Scully sat down and stared at her partner for a moment in silence. He knew her so well, most of the time it was comforting that he could anticipate her reactions, other times it was infuriating. She could never get away with anything around him. And yes, she always knew what their friends were up to … including the Lone Gunmen. She sighed and gave in to him.

"Kersh assigned them to assist the Eastern Iowa field office with a missing person case," she replied flatly and moved some papers around on her desk.

"Ah, see you did know," Mulder replied. He sat up and starting typing on his keyboard again. "It appears they have moved up in the world, now that we now that we have moved into their corner."

"So it would seem," Scully answered as she logged onto her computer.

He didn't comment further because he knew it would upset her. She had made a commitment to his cause, even when it held her career back and now she was trapped in this dead end corner with him. The Flunky Corner as Driscoll and Nester had called it on their first day in the bullpen.

They worked in silence for the rest of the morning, completing their background checks, and filing the respective reports. At 12:30, Scully's cell phone rang and jolted Mulder from his thoughts. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it was difficult not too. Although she was speaking softly, without turning around he could tell she was smiling. He knew she was talking to her new male friend and it burned his blood.

Over the past few weeks, she started shutting him out of little pieces of her life. At first he didn't notice, because it wasn't that odd that she wanted to do her own thing. Scully was independent and only wanted his attention on her terms. Their friendship and working relationship was as strong as even when they disagreed about their various topics. They were inseparable for the most part, until one fateful night when the truth hit him square in the face and he only had himself to blame.

Scully was jealous of Diana Fowley. Of course, the Lone Gunmen had to point that fact out to him because he couldn't see it. He and Scully had gone bowling with the Gunmen and were enjoying themselves when Mulder's cell phone rang. It was Diana and Scully knew it. He had denied her request to see him and shut her down immediately, but the damage was done.

Now as he reflected back, it all made sense, why Scully was so quick to accept a reassignment, why she wanted to quit the X-files, quit the FBI, all attempts to get away from him because she was hurt. He had hurt her, not intentionally of course, but as a bi-product of something that was over long ago. She had witnessed the link he and Diana held from their intimate relationship and he, like an idiot, did nothing to reassure her. He was left to suffer the consequences of losing Scully, who for all practical purposes was the love of his life.

"…..cafeteria for lunch, do you want me to bring you something? Mulder?" Scully stood above his desk staring at him quizzically.

It took Mulder a second to realize she was speaking to him. "Ah no, I'm not hungry." He said without looking up at her.

"I didn't ask if you were hungry, Mulder, I asked if you wanted something," Scully said leaning slightly on his desk.

"Isn't that the same thing?" He replied looking up at her with a mischievous look on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Agent Cramer standing patiently in the hallway. His mood faded quickly and he stood up from his desk. "No, I'll just get something later." He pulled his suit jacket off the back of the chair and walked past her into the corridor.