TO BE ARCHIVED ON THE COLB ONLY!
NOT TO BE ARCHIVED OR DISTRIBUTED ANYWHERE
ELSE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR'S WRITTEN PERMISSION.

Category/Rating:  Romance P/O/PG-13
Spoilers:  Tempus Fugit/Max
Disclaimer:  Don't own 'em/CC does

For the fourth LaBB fanfiction contest.  

THE SUBSTITUTE
by CiCi Lean, 1997
*********************
All comments welcome.
Send to LabMouse@aol.com


"OK, left...right....left."

Brian Pendrell sighed as he stepped to and fro, the dim sounds of Perry Como
echoing through the small club.  In a lifetime of dumb ideas, this had to
take the cake.

His partner, Kathleen O'Neill didn't seem to agree as she swung with him
around the tiny dance floor, beaming.  "Wonderful!  You know, Pendo, I'll
bet that Dana Scully will be just blown away by your moves."

"Uh, huh," he replied, rolling his eyes as they swayed clumsily together in
an uncoordinated rhythm.  "O'Neill, maybe we should head back to the table.
I think that our dinner might be there."

She looked at him with a severe expression.  "Pendo, you can *always* have
dinner.  Dance lessons are another matter entirely."

"O'Neill, why are we doing this again?  Just refresh my memory."

She sighed with a long-suffering groan.  "I told you the plan, over and over
again.  To get the confidence you need to procure that date with Agent
Scully, you need practice.  And since I'm the only girl who is willing to
let you practice...."

"Oh...I see."

"Aren't I brilliant?" she asked with a huge, confident grin.  "Aren't I a
saint?"

Pendrell had to laugh, he didn't want to, but he did.  "Yes, O'Neill, you
are all of the above.  Now, will I ever get to practice on my dinner?"

"Oh, all right," she sighed and together they walked back to their table.
When they got there, O'Neill stood stock still behind her chair and just
stood, staring with a faraway air.

Pendrell rolled his eyes as he pulled her chair out for her.  

She daintily wiggled her way into it and made a great show of unfolding,
placing and tucking her napkin in on her lap.  Pendrell took his seat,
shaking his head.  You never learn, he thought.  You're supposed to run
every time O'Neill comes up with another stupid scheme.  

Run fast, that's what you're supposed to do.

"Now, you'll order the wine," started O'Neill, squinting at the menu.  "And
then we'll..."

"I'm having a beer," interrupted Pendrell firmly.  "You can have what you
want."

She pursed her lips at him with a frown.  "Gentlemen order a bottle of wine
for their dates."

"If I told you I wasn't a gentleman, would you just order what you wanted
and leave me be?"

"No," she replied petulantly.  "You order the wine."

Pendrell shook his head as the waiter approached.   "Some wine for you and
the lady?" asked the waiter, in the half-appeasing, half-seductive tones
that waiters used the world over.

"Sure, why not?" replied Pendrell, with a sigh.  "The most expensive one, if
you don't mind."

"Monsieur is a man of taste, I see," replied the waiter heartily.  "Only the
best for the lady he's with."

"That's for sure," interjected O'Neill with a sweet smile as Pendrell
scowled at her.

When the waiter left, Pendrell leaned in toward O'Neill.  "So, tell me.
What does Jonathan think of all this?"

O'Neill looked up from her menu with a befuddled expression.  "Jonathan?"

"Yeah, you know, Jonathan.  The guy you've been dating for the past eight
years?"

O'Neill waved her hand casually.  "Jon?  Oh, he doesn't care.  As long as
football season is going strong, he could care less.  Of course, if there's
a strike..."

"Are you serious?" replied Pendrell curiously.  He'd met O'Neill's boyfriend
once, years before, and while Pendrell knew vaguely that this man existed,
he'd become a specter versus a real person over the long period of time that
he'd known his partner.   "He doesn't care at all?"

"Nope," replied O'Neill confidently.  "As long as I'm around during the off-
season, everything is A-OK.  Is the seafood here good?  I like shrimp once
in a while. Of course, it plays havoc with your cholesterol.  But every now
and then..."

"That's so odd," replied Pendrell, thinking that if he had a steady
girlfriend, sports would certainly take a back seat to other activities.  

O'Neill shrugged.  "Well, when you start dating you'll see.  But not
tonight..."

She looked up from her menu and took his hand with a warm gesture. "Tonight
is our first date." she said with a bright smile.  "So let's make the most
of it. OK?"

"Sure," replied Pendrell, still baffled by the mysteries that were dating,
wine and women. 

"Sure."

***********

They had been *dating* for nearly a week.  

An arrangement of convenience to be sure, but sometimes, something odd
happens along the way during these arrangements.  Brian Pendrell noticed it
by the third *date*.  A feeling of irrepressible closeness, a comfortable
feeling, tinged with an excitement; an anticipation he'd felt very rarely,
perhaps only once.  By the fourth night that he and O'Neill *dated*, the
feeling became stronger, much to his horror and dismay. 

By the fifth date, every star seemed to shine hugely in the heavens. 

"Can I tell you something, Brian?" said O'Neill, her eyes still green, even
in the dim light of the harvest moon.  

He nodded happily, with a part of him still distressed and confused, not
knowing why he felt so joyous, but unwilling to let it stop.  "Yes, Kathy?"

"I think you can see Jupiter tonight," she replied, pointing, as they both
lay back on the hood of his Taurus, staring at the sky in some outskirt of
Washington.  "Do you see it, Brian?"

They no longer called each other *Pendo* or *O'Neill*.

"Yes," he replied, his voice hoarse and strange. And he could have sworn he
did, lying there, staring at the stars with a woman he knew, knew for years,
without a thought of love or hope. 

And suddenly, he understood something very terrible...and very important.  

He was in love with this woman.  His annoyance.  His pain.  

His partner. 

And this understanding was an awful moment, possibly the worst in Brian
Pendrell's life.  He'd realized without a doubt, that Dana Scully no longer
existed within him, but that someone else had taken her place in his heart,
a place he'd clearly put the *reserved* sign upon, but like a gentle thief,
she had snuck in and set up residence there, and like any patron, was
demanding to be served.  

"Is that Venus, Brian?" asked O'Neill casually, pointing to the brightest
star above.

He looked away before answering.  "I think so, Kathy."

"I think so..."

**********

"Thanks for these results, Agent Pendrell."

Pendrell nodded at Dana Scully and for the first time, felt completely
relaxed in her presence.  He no longer stuttered, bumbled or flushed, he
was totally at ease.  He felt a slight tinge of regret at the loss of
emotion, but he had other things on his mind.

Even Scully noticed his change in his attitude.  "You're looking rested
these days," she said casually, with a slight tinge of curiosity, perhaps
even something slightly stronger behind her voice.  "Did you just come back
from vacation?"

Pendrell shook his head, with a tight smile.  "No. No vacation for us
drones."

"I see.  Oh, well....keep up the good work then, Agent Pendrell," she said
with a smile, letting him know she was joshing with him.

He smiled back.  "Keep it up yourself, Agent Scully."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him and shook her head as she left.
Two weeks ago, that conversation probably would have knocked the wind out of
his sails completely.  

But two weeks ago wasn't today.

When Kathleen finally entered the lab that morning, he once again felt the
familiar perturbing feelings, the jumbled emotions of adoration and
inferiority mixing into one infuriatingly terrifying sensation.  

But today...nothing would stop him.  He had decided that life was short...
too short. And that he was going to grasp the ring once and for all, even if
his courage had failed him before, there was still one more turn to go. 

"O'Neill, I...I..can we talk?" said Pendrell, wondering why he was so out of
breath from the mere act of speaking to this woman; one to whom he had
spoken to nearly every day for the past six years.  "I have something to
tell you."

She beamed at him, a huge smile lighting her features..  "I have something
to tell you too."

A small, wondrous hope rose in his heart.  "Really?  Well, you go first."

O'Neill shook her head happily.  "No, no.  You go first."

"No, ladies first," he said happily.  "I insist."

O'Neill looked down and blushed and finally looked up with an expression of
pure joy.  "OK."

Pendrell smiled back.  "Go ahead."

"I'm engaged."

And suddenly the world around Pendrell came to a crashing halt.  His
expression tumbled to uncharted depths as she shyly held out her left hand,
the sparkles of a huge diamond dancing from her ring finger.  

He thought he would have an asthma attack at the mere sight of it.  	

"Jonathan finally asked me last night." she said with a nervous shrug.  "So,
I said...yes."

Pendrell reached back with a shaking hand for his chair. "Oh."

"It was sort of sudden, but as they say, I'm not getting any younger," said
O'Neill with a grin.  "Anyway, my mom's so thrilled, it's almost worth the
hassle for the next three weeks."

"Three weeks?" replied Pendrell weakly, his hand still groping blindly for
his chair.  "You're getting married in three weeks?"

"Yep.  Can you imagine me in some puffy wedding gown, picking rice out of my
eyes?"

Pendrell could, but said nothing.

"It's something, huh?" continued O'Neill, her expression unsure.  "Right?"

And Brian Pendrell didn't reply right away, but soon found his voice.
"Yeah, it's great, O'Neill.  Just great." he said, his voice numb and
faraway.  "Um, O'Neill, what I wanted to ask you was...."

"Yes?" she asked hopefully, perhaps with some unspoken wish.  

But Pendrell merely bit his lip and pointed at her desk.  "I need the
Lassiter file.  Do you have it there?  I really need it now..."

O'Neill blinked and looked at her desk.  "Oh.  I'll take a look."

"Thanks," replied Pendrell, coldly, his heart settling back into it's usual
position of misery.  "Thanks a lot."

**********
Part Three

"You're as drunk as a skunk, Brian."

Pendrell looked at the fuzzy apparition that was weaving in and out of his
focus and nodded.  "Yep.  I certainly am."

He'd been spending the past few weeks in this bar, this nice friendly place
called the Headless Woman Pub, just enjoying, not only the atmosphere, but
the warm and wonderful feeling that the booze had been giving to him lately.
Finally, something gave him the ability to feel confident, alive, happy...
and the ability to forget.

To forget that another woman he'd given his heart to, didn't give a damn for
him.

"Well, that's just great.  You know that you aren't a drinker and what are
doing in a horrible place like this at this hour?  This isn't like you,
Brian. Please, please come home with me..." implored O'Neill, tugging on his
sleeve, to no avail. 

Brian Pendrell stared at his partner for a long moment before bursting into
a hoarse laugh. "I don't think so O'Neill.  I'm kinda busy here.  Why don't
you go home to your fiancee?  Isn't football season finished yet?" he asked
cruelly, so drunk as not to care what he said. 

O'Neill looked at him sadly.  "Brian, listen to me."

"Can't do that right now, O'Neill.  Because, if you'll look over there," he
slurred as he pointed in the Scully's general direction.  "You will see one
thirsty birthday girl.  And as soon as our kind bartender over here hands me
those birthday girl drinks I ordered...oh, here they are, thank you, kind
bartender...I'm going to be going over there and celebrating with said
birthday girl.  Now, if you'll excuse me."

He stumbled off, with O'Neill angrily following.  "Brian, you have no right
to act like this.  You didn't even give me a chance...."

A mustachioed man stepped into the bar.

"Sorry, O'Neill, but one broken heart is enough for this lifetime," Pendrell
said without turning around, pushing his way through the crowd.  "If I'm
going to be miserable, I might as well stick with my original source of
rejection."

He felt her tug on his arm, but kept going forward.  "Rejection? Brian, I
was about to tell you that I..."

But Pendrell ignored her and kept walking, oblivious to his surroundings
until heard the scream.  "Get down!"

He still didn't quite realize what was going on until he felt *it*.  Felt
two hands shoving him from behind.  When the first shot rang out he was
already on the floor, face down, and heard the beer bottles crack in his
fist.  The cold wetness around him seeped into his clothing and stuck to
his skin like a bitter rain.  He lay perfectly still for a moment before
daring to look up and when he did, he blinked, trying to erase the sight
that lay before him.

The sight of O'Neill lying on the ground with a bullet in her chest.

Oh god oh god oh god.

This is not happening, he thought, as shocked sobriety took its sharp hold
over him.  This can't be happening.  He rose and stumbled over to her prone
body, ignoring the screams and sirens that were filling the air around him.  

//Do something...I have to do something//

He knelt over O'Neill  as Dana Scully grabbed a batch of napkins off of the
table and approached with a confident air.  

"Get those the hell away from her, " he barked at Scully, who stepped back
in shock at the harshness of his voice.  "Napkins won't do anything. What
the hell kind of doctor are you?"

Scully opened her mouth to reply, but he was no longer paying any attention
to her.  He ripped O'Neill's blouse open and paled when he saw the wound,
the blood and white flesh.  "Goddamn it, goddamn it, " he whispered.  "Damn
it to hell, Kathy.  Why did you do that?"

But she was gasping for air and couldn't reply.

He ripped off his tie and bound off one of the smaller arteries in her arm.
No good, that's a lung puncture, he thought desperately.  The bleeding isn't
what's going to kill her.  He took off his jacket and pressed it down with
all his weight on the wound, trying to ignore the strangled cry coming from
the woman underneath him.  

Scully watched from a distance, her face stony and ashen.

"It's OK, Kathy," he said breathing harshly and pushing down with all his
might.  "You're right as always.  I should stay away from places like this.
And as far as the drinking goes, I ought leave that to the professionals
too."

O'Neill began to splutter, desperately trying to speak, to say something
that had to be said, but the words wouldn't...couldn't come out.  He felt
short, warmth breaths and tiny hot drops against his face.  He could see
the pain in her eyes and had to look away.

"It's going to be all right," he said weakly, trying not to cry. "So don't
talk right now.  We'll have plenty of time to talk later.  You can yell at
me all you want after we fix you up.  The ambulance is coming and all this
will be over before you know it."

"This woman has a puncture wound to the right lung," said Scully, to the
paramedics as they entered and rolled the stretcher over to the bleeding
woman on the floor.  "She has to be intubated immediately."

The paramedics glanced down and looked up questioning eyes when they saw
O'Neill's service revolver.

Pendrell upholstered her gun with an annoyed gesture. "This woman's a
federal agent," he said, breathing harshly.  He turned toward them with a
look that held both terror and rage.  "And she's not going to die."

The paramedics attended to O'Neill and soon they were lifting her onto the
stretcher. Pendrell helped them raise her, helped them strap her in and he
kissed her forehead before they put the oxygen mask on.

Scully shook her head behind Pendrell's back.  "This must have been an
inside job."

Pendrell was leaving as Skinner walked through the door.  And he watched him
pale at the sight of his agent being wheeled out.  

"Who shot O'Neill?" Skinner asked as he approached Scully, his face ashen.

Scully wiped her nose before replying.

"I don't know..."

***********
Part Four


"Right, Mulder.  All right, I'll be there in thirty minutes."

Dana Scully clicked her cell phone shut and turned to Pendrell who sat in
the hospital's small plastic chair. "Agent Pendrell?" she asked,

"Yes?"

"I have to meet Agent Mulder in Annapolis in thirty minutes."

Pendrell looked up at her with a pale and tired expression.  They had been
there for over three hours, Scully spending most of the time on her phone
trying to reach Mulder, he sitting silently on a wretched plastic chair
trying to stay sane.  "Point?"

"What I'm saying is that I have to leave now." she replied calmly.

"Well, what do you want me to say?  Have a nice case, Agent Scully?" he said
dryly.  "See you around the lab?  Keep up the good work, maybe?"

Scully bit her lip and looked uncomfortable.  "I'm sorry about Agent
O'Neill. I truly am."

"So am I. Thank you for all your comfort and concern this evening, Agent
Scully.  Give my regards to your partner." said Pendrell blankly, looking
away.

"I'm sorry," she said coolly, simply and walked away.  He stared after her,
the black trench coat flying out from behind her and wondered what exactly
it was that he ever saw in her.   

He continued to sit and count the seconds as they ticked off the ancient
clock in front of him, time not only for the woman he entered the hospital
with, but time that was ticking for himself.   He paled as the night
surgeon approached, walking down the cold hall toward him with bloodstained
scrubs.

"Are you with the 412 that came in tonight?" the doctor asked without
looking up, using the police code for gunshot victim.

Pendrell nodded, his mouth turning perfectly dry. She's dead.  He's going to
tell me she's dead and my life is going to come to an end.  I never even got
to kiss her.  I never even got to tell her.  And I'll never get another
chance.  Because this man in front of me is going to tell me she's dead and
I'm going to die right along with her.

"Yes". was all he replied. 

"Well, she's made it through surgery," said the doctor, pulling out his
chart. "That's a start, and to be honest, we didn't hold out much hope
she'd do even that.  But we don't want to get too optimistic, she'll still
have to make it through the next 48 hours.  However, if she pulls through
that, we can start looking toward the future."

Pendrell felt himself sag and grabbed the wall.  

Oh god.  

She lives. 

"Can I see her?" Pendrell asked, but only as formality. 

Because no power on earth was going to hold him back. 

"Sure," the doctor nodded and led him through to intensive care.  

Pendrell ran through the doors and saw her, pale and small underneath and
endless array of wires and machines.  He quickly donned scrubs and a mask
before walking up, and when he reached her beside was amazed to see open
eyes, conscious and alert to his presence. 

"Can I yell at you now?" she whispered with a trembling smile.

And Pendrell started to laugh and cry at the same time.  "Yes, you can.
You can start yelling now and finish up, oh, let's say fifty years from
now?  And after we have the anniversary party of your yelling, you can
start all over again the next day."

She smiled weakly at him underneath the oxygen mask.  "I love you, you know
that, don't you?"

And Brian Pendrell simply nodded, unable to speak.

"Good," she replied, before closing her eyes and letting sleep take her. 


********
Part Five


"You know what, Brian?"

"No, what?"  Pendrell asked, examining the still unusual sight of a thin
gold band around the third finger of his left hand.

They had gotten married on a warm spring day in a judge's office right
outside of Headquarters.  It hadn't taken longer than a lunch hour and even
O'Neill was pleased with the efficiency of it all. 

"I think that Agent Mulder and Agent Scully are a perfect for one another."

Pendrell's eyes popped open.  "Kathy..." he said, with a warning in his
voice.

"Just think about it for a minute.  Now, if I can..."

"No," replied Pendrell, shaking his head.  "Absolutely not."

"You haven't even listened."

"I don't have to. The answer is no."

"Oh, poop.  I'm a big girl, Brian.  And if I want to do a little
match-making, there's no law against it."

"Whatever happened to *obey* your husband?"

"I don't remember that part."

"I'll refresh your memory."

"Oh, poop...."

****************
Fini.