Title: Post-Graduate Work
Author: Maureen S. O'Brien
Rating: G
Category: V
Spoilers: none
Summary: One answer to Leigh Alexander's "Scully as a nun" challenge.
Disclaimer: Characters and situations from The X-Files belong to
Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and Twentieth Century Fox.
They are used without permission. 
Author's Note: Scully does seem to change careers occasionally.
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Nobody had understood why she wanted to be a nun. 

"I know that you and Mulder were very close," Skinner had said. "But
you're still young. Even if you don't stay in the Bureau, you could
still have a rewarding career. Is it healthy to shut yourself away from
the world like this?"

There had been something in his eyes then, and she had spoken quickly, 
to prevent him making any personal offers she would have to refuse.

"Sir. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that I am not going
to the cloister to hide from my feelings or conversely, to dwell upon
them. While it is true that if Agent Mulder had lived, I might have 
considered different life options, I can assure you that I still would
have been leaving the Bureau." It was so hard to explain these things
in words. "My work is done here, sir. I am leaving to pursue a 
long-held interest. Don't pity me for doing so."

He looked uncomfortable, but he said nothing more. She would write to
him often over the years. Their letters spoke of little things, but
she thought they reassured him that she had not fallen into depression
or been co-opted by some odd and ancient cult.

Bill was supportive of her decision, which was worse.  "It'll be nice
not to have to worry about you," he'd said frankly.  She had nearly 
changed her mind then, in a reflexive little-sister move. But she was
called, and even Bill couldn't prevent that.

If Mulder had lived...she tried not to think of that too often. Some
small college town, most likely, with a good medical school. The closer
she and Mulder had gotten, the more clearly she had felt God by her
side. She had begun to see her partnership as a trinity of sorts, and
she knew that was how it was meant to be. But a bullet had ended that
dream, and she had to reach for another.

It had felt strange to be in the company of women, after so many years.
Physics, medicine and the Bureau still had their old boys' clubs. But
she had adjusted more easily than anyone would have dreamed. She had
no objection to doing manual work. Her hands were as deft at doing 
cooking and cleaning, gardening, and the crafts that supported them
as they were at autopsies. 

But prayer was her real concern. At first it seemed like such a luxury,
to be able to spend so much time in meditation. Later, when the dry
times came, or when she grew angry at God, it seemed more like a 
penance. But she had learned to wait out the dry times, for they always
passed -- though it felt like forever before they did. As for the anger,
she and God always worked things out. Eventually. She was always 
studying something: the Bible, one of the many books on prayer in the
convent library, the effects of various substances upon the plants in
the garden.

And so the years passed. As her understanding deepened, her gifts 
and visions ceased to disturb her. Seeing the dead or something that
might be an angel was not that impressive, really. Not when she felt
God so often, giving her joy or that indescribable sorrow that was
almost joy itself. 

She felt wonder, but no great desire to speak about it to others. She
spoke about it in Confession, to the priest that gave them Mass, so that
he could keep updated on her spiritual progress. Her superior at the
convent also knew, and placidly accepted anything she was told, or asked
a few keen questions if something interested her. This sort of 
experience was not terribly uncommon in or out of religious life, so why
get excited about it? 

Skinner asked her in a letter if she got bored. Sometimes the routine
got wearisome, she admitted. But generally, there was always something
interesting to do or think about.

After all (she didn't write), she was fighting on her knees for the
world, doing her best to help save it again; learning about herself and
the universe; spending time with her sisters, each one an individual 
both annoying and beloved; and getting to know Someone whom she trusted 
above all others. 

Her life's quest had not ended. It had barely begun.

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Nov. 1, 1998
mobrien@dnaco.net
http://www.dnaco.net/~mobrien/fanfic/