"Fast Lane"
By Christine K. Rogalski

Rating:  R for language
Spoilers:  "The End" and "The Beginning"
Summary:  Diana Fowley thinks about the recent turns her life has taken.
Disclaimers:  Everyone in here belongs to Chris Carter, Fox
Broadcasting, and the production company which is exactly one week after
my birthday.  In the cases of Fowley and Spender, Carter can keep them.
No infringement is intended.
Author's Notes:
  So you're asking, "Christine, why the *hell* would you want to write
about Fowley?"  Well, ask any actor which is more fun to play, a good
guy or a bad guy.  The latter will almost always get more votes.  Making
evil people look worse is quite amusing.
Comments to Soprano22@hotmail.com.
Death to Diana Fowley.
-Christine


        I have come to the conclusion that I am the single most
intelligent and resourceful individual in the world.
        So it sounds obnoxious. So who the hell cares?  It's true.  If
anyone were in doubt of that, they need only look at how I'm back in the
fast lane after being overseas and out of the loop for so long.  So here
I am, climbing up the FBI ladder like I've always wanted to.  And,
conceited as it might sound, it's all my own doing.
        I take a long drag of the cigarette.  God, I've gone through,
what, a pack and a half today.  What a nasty habit.  I'd done without
them for so long, but there was something about being in the AD's office
today, something I smelled.  It just kicked in the urge to smoke.  Oh
well.  I guess I deserve this.  I deserve more than this.  Maybe later
I'll go out and see if I can find that smack dealer who approached me
earlier.  Of course, my new partner (what's his name again?  Spooner?
Spanner?  Oh- Spender...) was with me, so I gave him this look that
said, "We're with the bureau, buddy.  Don't fuck with us."  I think he
was somewhere on Pennsylvania Avenue.  Later, Diana.
        I smile slightly.  You know what I'm really good at?  Working
with people.  Oh, that sounds so sweet.  But I *really* work with
people.  They usually end up doing what I want them to.  Take, oh I
don't know, Fox Mulder, for instance.  God, what a moron!  No, I don't
mean that.  I mean, he kind of thinks the same way I do.  He looks for
the unusual, the unexplainable.  But, he's just so stuck in his ways; he
doesn't have what it takes to get ahead.  He's only got his brains and
his looks going for him.
        I take the cigarette out of my mouth and let my mind wander on
that topic for a moment.  Fox definitely has looks going for him.  And
the sex was great.  Great.  But since I'd last seen him, he seems to
have lost a lot of his passion.  I guess there aren't too many women who
can handle him the way I could.  He probably hasn't gotten any in a long
time.  Come to think of it, neither have I.  Maybe I can arrange a
meeting with him.  Tell him I found out more information about the
alien, or some shit.  Take him out for a drink.  I know he doesn't drink
that often, so a few shooters would get him really loose.  Get him back
here, give him a good time, and hold a gun to his head in the morning.
He'll still come crawling back.  Who else is he going to go after?  His
little partner?
        A short laugh escapes me as I snuff out the cigarette.  Fox may
have gotten a little desperate, but there's no way in hell he's far
enough gone to pick up what's-her-name.  Not with me here, especially.
I move over to the mirror and confirm my observation.  Amazing.  For
almost 40, I look pretty damn good.  All those annoying wrinkles on my
face are expertly covered with a few layers of foundation.  And my hair
is long.  I read once that all men think long hair is sexier.  And it's
such a beautiful shade of brunette.  I only dye it once every few weeks,
so it's still fairly healthy.  Fox has never made a comment about it.
He's never really touched it either.  But I'm sure he wanted to.  I'm
sure he wants to.
        And I was apprehensive about his relationship with the little
red-head.  I should have trusted in my old personal axiom:  Red hair is
the first sign of brain-loss.  I know I shouldn't make generalizations,
but there's just something about red hair that screams stupidity.  Add
that to the fact that she's obviously frigid, and that she's so
close-minded, and it's pretty obvious that Fox spends every day just
trying not to strangle the living hell out of her.  He could have used
an ally these past few years.  That's for damn sure.
        And now, I'm the one moving ahead.  I have the X-Files.  Well,
of course Spender has them too, but he's not open to anything either.
He seems to have some powerful friends, though.  That could come in
handy.  The big problem with Spender is that he has too much ambition.
If he tries to get ahead of me, it could be a problem.  But I've handled
men like him before.  It's amazing what a man will let you do if you
sleep with him.  Not that I don't like the experience myself.  Although
Fox had to have been the best.  Well, among the best.  Well, in the top
twenty somewhere.
        So now I'm where I want to be.  Finally.  I thought spending all
that time out of the U.S. would set me back, but it hasn't.  Little did
I know that all I had to do was put a few moves on Fox Mulder then turn
him over to the authorities and I'd be on my way.  Who knew?  Now, to
find that dealer...

THE END