A Normal Life
by Bugmouthga

E-MAIL: bugmouthga@yahoo.com
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: Story
KEYWORDS: Post-episode, MSR
SPOILERS: The entire series, including both films

SUMMARY: A look at Mulder and Scully's relationship 
through years, during the quiet moments of their lives.

Disclaimer: X-Files characters belong to FOX Corporation 
and 1013.

Author's Notes: This is sort of a sentimental favorite of 
mine. No real X-File here, just the blossoming of the 
Mulder/Scully relationship during the mundane 
moments of life. It's EXTREMELY Shippery! LOL Please 
email me and let me know what you think.

The following scenes are merely moments in the lives of 
Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They are not big adventures, 
but rather the simple parts of life that happen in between 
the adventures. They are the "little things" that we often 
take for granted. But it's usually the little things, the 
mundane moments, the normal banality that makes up the bulk 
of life. This is Mulder and Scully's normal life.



Scene one: "The mall has it all" 
[rated PG-13]
March 1992

Good Times Mall
Bellefleur, OR
4:45 p.m.

"Whether for clothes or fun to have a ball... the 
mall has it all!" Mulder announced, receiving a curious 
glance from his new partner.

"I can't believe we have to do this," Scully sighed, 
staring at the front entrance with a look of trepidation.

"What's wrong, Scully?" he joked, putting a hand 
on her shoulder. "I thought you women just loved to 
shop!"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oink, oink, 
Mulder! And no, I've never been a big shopper. Buying 
clothes is a... necessary evil, not what I would classify as 
a good time."

"Party pooper," he smiled. "Well, at any rate, it 
looks like it is a necessary evil today... unless Bellefleur 
has a policy that FBI agents walking around town in their 
skivvies is all right." She rolled her eyes. He took note of 
her apparent disapproval. "Well, then, clothes shopping 
we must do. That's what happens when all your clothes 
go up in flames along with the hotel you're staying at."

"I think the hotel owners should pay for our loss," 
she remarked, recalling sadly how her new laptop had 
also gone up in smoke. She had just bought that for her 
new assignment.

"Well, we could put in a grievance," he agreed. 
"Most businesses will get back to us within a week or 
more... of course, we'll be awfully cold, running around 
naked, waiting to hear from them."

Scully couldn't help it. She chuckled. A sudden 
flash in her mind took her briefly back to the first time she 
had heard of "Spooky" Mulder when still at the 
Academy. While her fellow cadets in the know had 
marveled at his profiling abilities, they had also jeered his 
practices and made fun of him personally. Though she 
had found it somewhat rude and unprofessional to make 
fun of someone so highly regarded in such an important 
field, she had never said anything, never stuck up for 
him. She might even have laughed a little herself at some 
of the unkind jokes. Little did she know that she would 
one day be partnered with the "brilliant crackpot". While 
she did find him brilliant, as well as arrogant, sarcastic, 
closed-off emotionally and somewhat dirty-minded, 
crackpot did not fit the bill at all. He had even shown her 
a softer side, a bit of vulnerability, granted, only after she 
had done so first. But he hadn't made fun of her, or 
belittled her during her own moment of vulnerability. He 
had been kind, warm, open. Add to the fact that she 
found him simply beautiful to look at, she honestly had to 
admit, she liked him... not that she would own up to that 
admission. At least, not until she determined how he had 
regarded her.

"What is it with you and nudity, Mulder?" she 
snickered.

"Hey, nudity's great!" he joked. "I mean, that's 
how we all come into the world and maybe that's how we 
were meant to continue on through life."

"That's just... weird," she said, growing a little 
nervous over his need to paint a picture for her. After all, 
he had seen her practically naked a couple of nights ago. 
She made a point of sighing, trying to think of something 
to change the subject. Her eyes brightened after a 
moment, having thought of something she was sure 
everyone could relate to- and that had nothing to do with 
nudity whatsoever. "Damn, I'm not exactly budgeted for 
an impromptu shopping spree..."

She assumed he would commiserate with her over 
having to spend money on clothing that should not have 
been lost in the first place. Instead, she was surprised 
when he touched her arm gently and said, "Scully, I know 
this wasn't planned for, and the Bureau will reimburse 
us... eventually, but if you need a little financial loan, I 
don't mind."

That caught her off guard. She hadn't been 
expecting sensitivity, although she was coming to realize 
that her new partner had it in spades. He just hid it well 
behind all the sarcasm and dirty humor. "Oh, no, Mulder, 
it's all right, really," she assured him with an appreciative 
smile. "I'm just... griping for the sake of griping, I guess. 
I'll be okay to get a couple of outfits- enough to tide me 
over till we get home." She paused, tentatively patted the 
large, warm hand on her arm and looked up at him. 
"Thank you, though."

"No problem," he replied, glancing away once, 
then looking back to smile at her again. He opened the 
mall entrance door for her and led her in, his hand on the 
small of her back. "So, where should we start?" he asked, 
hoping beyond hope that she would ask for some 
assistance on choosing just the right lingerie. 

"Well," Scully suggested sensibly, "why don't we 
each go get what we need, then meet up at the food court 
for a quick bite to eat before heading back to the new 
hotel?" She gestured to the small food court, which was to 
their left.

"Oh, okay," Mulder mumbled, not bothering to 
hide his disappointment.

Scully hadn't known Mulder for very long, but a 
complete stranger could have easily picked up on his 
souring mood. "What's wrong, Mulder?" she asked in 
concern.

"Uh..." he stammered, momentarily at a loss of 
what to say. Thinking quickly, he came up with the first 
excuse he could think of, lame as it sounded to him. "It's 
just that, I was hoping for a little advice... when it comes 
to clothing, I mean."

She smirked, and considering he had looked nice 
and professional every time she had seen him on the job, 
she pondered over who it was that usually dressed him. 
She wondered if he had a girlfriend back home that did 
all the work for him. "Really?" she smirked. "Are you 
honestly that bad, Mulder?" Her respect for him might 
have lowered, just the slightest bit.

"Well," he said with a sheepish grin, "I am 
red/green colorblind you see, and sometimes I can't 
really tell if something doesn't quite... eh, match, I guess, 
so sometimes I'll ask a friend, or maybe pester a sales 
clerk, but since you're here, could you please help?"

Her respect for him returned to its original 
standing and it was accompanied by a small amount of 
sympathy, although she wondered how he got passed the 
Bureau's scrutiny to obtain a job with them. Usually, even 
the littlest ailments could prove reason for being rejected. 

She unconsciously licked her lips and pondered 
over his predicament for a moment. It was true, she 
wasn't overly fond of malls in general, and she really 
didn't like shopping for clothing- hers, or anyone else's- 
but she looked at Mulder and his problem with 
compassion and a fair amount of amusement.

"Tell you what," Scully said, "why don't I get the 
things I need, while you try on some clothes. You can find 
what fits right and I'll meet back up with you to check the 
colors of your selections, to make sure they match. What 
store will you be looking through? I'll meet you there."

He sighed. Didn't look like any way out of it. 
"Yeah. Good idea, Scully, thanks." He glanced at the 
directory, noticed two stores in particular that would 
probably have the clothes he'd need. There really wasn't 
too much of a choice in such a small community mall. "I'll 
either be at The Men's Shop or Sears."

"Okay," she said. "Give me about an hour." She 
glanced at the directory briefly, then smiled at him and 
headed in the opposite direction he was going.

Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, Mulder 
propelled himself forward. The honest truth was, he 
hated clothes shopping as much as Scully claimed to. It 
was boring; a necessity sure, but a boring necessity, 
nonetheless.

He decided to hit The Men's Shop first. With any 
luck, he could find what he needed there and avoid the 
large department store altogether. On the way to the 
clothing store, Mulder passed by a video store and he 
paused in front of it.

Hmm, I've got a whole hour to kill, and it's not like it'll 
take me that long to find what I need, he surmised. I guess a 
quick look wouldn't hurt. I'll keep it brief.

Relieved to have found a fun distraction that he 
was able to put off looking for clothes, Mulder entered the 
video store with a guilty grin. Scully would never know, 
and he was just going to be a few minutes, anyway...

His eyes automatically sought out his two favorite 
movie genres: science fiction and porn. He came upon the 
science fiction section first and checked out their 
offerings. After he grabbed a cheesy, obscure 1950's sci-fi 
"classic" for purchase, he casually meandered into the 
adult video section.

There, he found a video for sale that particularly 
intrigued him. He stood before it, scratching his chin 
thoughtfully, waiting to pick it up for a closer look, but 
hesitating, feeling somehow conflicted. The video in 
question was called, Red-Hot and Wild, and boasted a 
picture of a voluptuous redhead, scantily clad and posing 
provocatively on the cover.

He had never much considered fantasies involving 
redheads, mostly because he couldn't properly see their 
red hair. He knew that Agent Scully was a redhead. It 
said so in her dossier, even if he couldn't tell by looking at 
her. Of course, she looked nothing like the sex pot on the 
cover of the film he was contemplating, nor was she his 
usual type for his porn tastes, or his dates, which leaned 
towards tall, buxom brunettes. But he did find Scully to 
be very pretty in her own right, and she had one of the 
sweetest faces he had ever seen. She's got a pretty sweet 
body, too, now that I think about it, he recalled with perfect 
clarity from the evening she had bared nearly all to him 
when she feared the mosquito bites on her back were 
possibly something more sinister.

He shook his head, trying to tamp down the illicit 
thoughts and the recent memory. He respected Scully. 
She was his partner... yes, his partner. After only this one 
case together, he honestly felt that she was. Surprised as 
he was by this revelation, he really felt he could trust her. 
If he hadn't been so sure, he would never have been able 
to speak so candidly about his sister's abduction. After all, 
while many people knew his theory on his sister's 
disappearance all those years ago, not too many people 
were actually privy to the details of his recovered 
memory. He recalled that he had been able to talk to her 
about it with much more ease than he would have 
thought possible, especially for someone he had been 
accusing of being a spy.

More than just his trust, Mulder actually liked 
Scully. He felt they might actually become real friends 
someday. They already had a good rapport, even if he 
had acted like an ass towards her at first.

Yeah, we'll be friends, he promised himself, before 
the image of her nearly nude body popped back into his 
head. Oh, no more office romances! They never work... but if it 
comes to that, then we'll just have to wait and see what 
happens, I guess... He nodded an affirmation to himself, 
then had to suppress the urge to laugh for doing so. He 
walked out of the adult video section then without taking 
another glance back.

Mulder bought the dorky sci-fi flick, giving a surly 
look to the pimply-faced teen behind the counter who 
snickered at him over his purchase.

After leaving the video store, Mulder bought 
himself a pretzel and a small soda to tide him over until 
dinner and perused the mall, looking mostly through the 
front store windows. He walked past a lingerie store. To 
his surprise, he saw his pretty new partner at the 
checkout. He stopped, and, strategically placing himself 
behind some scantily clad mannequins, he tried to see 
what she was buying.

He watched the cashier ring up Scully's selected 
items... a package of sensible, white cotton bikini briefs, 
much like she had been wearing that night she... He 
shook his head clear, again trying to get that mesmerizing 
image out of his skull. She also appeared to be buying a 
sensible, white bra, which made him smile for some 
reason, even as he strained his neck, trying, in vain, to 
ascertain her size. He could not read any labels from so 
far away, but if he had to guess, he would have to put his 
new partner in a size 34-B. A very nice size, indeed. The 
underwear she had chosen reminded him somehow of 
her - sweet, sensible, pretty but understated. Yep, that's 
Scully, all right...

He almost choked on that thought when he saw 
her put a very fetching silky bra and panties set that was 
as blue as her eyes on the counter as well. "Day-um," he 
whispered, getting more than a little turned on just 
picturing her wearing them. Shit! I need to stop this train of 
thought right now!

Mulder saw the cashier put the items into a bag as 
he salivated in spite of his best efforts not to. He watched 
his partner, who was also toting another bag from a 
women's clothing store, as she handed the woman her 
credit card and then checked her watch. Scully made a 
sort of "panic face" and then looked at the woman ringing 
up her merchandise with an air of urgency.

A little confused, Mulder checked his own watch, 
and said, "Uh-oh!" It had been an hour and ten minutes 
since they had separated to look for clothing on their own. 
He glanced once more to make sure that Scully wasn't 
looking in his direction, then high-tailed it over to The 
Men's Shop.

He made it there moments before she did, and he 
utilized those moments by randomly grabbing different 
items off the racks, not looking at sizes or colors at all. He 
was frantic because he knew he was out of time and about 
to be caught red-handed. 

"Hey!" someone said from behind him, which, 
because he was already so on edge from his close call, 
made him jump in alarm and he dropped all of the 
clothing from his arms all over the floor.

"Shit!" he groaned sheepishly, getting a dirty look 
from a snooty salesman, who walked by, but said nothing 
and did not attempt to help him. He bent down to start 
picking up the scattered clothes.

"Oh, Mulder, I'm sorry," Scully apologized, 
kneeling down to help him retrieve the fallen 
merchandise. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you like 
that."

"Uh... it's all right, Scully," he said, "I guess I was 
a bit distracted, you know, trying to tell what matched 
and what didn't."

They stood together, each of them holding some of 
the items he had grabbed a moment earlier. 

"Well, that's what I'm here for," she replied 
sweetly. "Let's see what you've picked out so far."

Taking advantage of a nearby clothing rack, 
Mulder and Scully used it to drape his choices over for a 
better look.

"Um, Mulder, this color blue would not go well 
with this olive green."

"Olive?" Mulder asked. "From what I've been told, 
nothing goes with olive, unless it's Popeye." He tossed it 
aside, unknowingly getting another dirty look from that 
salesman. "See, this is why I need you here, Scully, to help 
me through my... handicap. I'm colorblind, you know."

She snickered at him. "Right, you poor dear," and 
he responded by making a face at her. Then Scully took a 
good, long look at all of the items he had draped over the 
rack and could not disguise the amused expression that 
took over her pretty features. "Are you sure you're not 
just plain blind, Mulder?"

"Huh?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, did you even bother trying any of these 
clothes on?"

"Of course, I did," he lied.

"Uh-huh... well, looks can be deceiving, of course, 
but I never would have pegged you as having a size 44 
waist."

"What the..." Mulder exclaimed. He looked at the 
size inside of the pants. It was then he began glancing 
around at the other customers in the store and noticed 
that they were either all extremely tall or rather big 
around the middle. "Oh... this is a big and tall men's 
shop," he murmured. He scrunched his eyes closed as she 
stared pointedly at him. Busted!

Scully smiled knowingly at him. "So, what did you 
buy, Mulder, during this hour? Anything?"

"Um..." and he sheepishly retrieved the cheesy sci-
fi flick out of his large coat pocket for a peek, before 
putting it back.

"Yeah, that will look just great on you," she cracked 
sarcastically, before she let loose with a laugh.

"You know, sarcasm does not become you at all, 
Agent Scully," he informed her haughtily.

"It becomes me better than that movie will fit you," 
she retorted with a wicked grin.

"All right, all right," he groaned. "You got me. I 
guess I just hate clothes shopping, too." He sighed.

Wearing a smirk, Scully took his arm and guided 
him out of the store. "Come on, Mulder."

"Where we going? Dinner?" he asked hopefully.

"How about Sears? I don't think your video is 
going to cover much when we go to the airport 
tomorrow."

Mulder relaxed. He was grateful she wasn't pissed 
off at him, and even more grateful that she was still 
willing to help him. Because, he really was colorblind, 
and, he really did hate shopping for clothes.

"That's the truth," he agreed with her, leering at 
her playfully. "Ain't nothing little on me, Scully."

"Especially your ego," she deadpanned.

"Hey!"

They both laughed at his expense on their way to 
Sears.



Scene two: "Poker and the pox" 
[Rated PG]

April 1994
Washington State
Bremerton Memorial Hospital
2:32 p.m.

Mulder crept into his partner's hospital room. He 
spied Scully lying in her bed, awake and looking 
somewhat bored. It made him smile. He also was happy 
to see that she kept looking better and healthier each day 
that passed. She certainly wasn't unconscious, nor did she 
appear to be in pain, as she had earlier in their 
convalescence. It made his heart swell to know that she 
was going to be all right. After all, it had been he that had 
led her willingly into that Washington forest, only to be 
nearly eaten alive by a swarm of prehistoric insects. God, I 
hate bugs!

Scully noticed her partner standing in the 
doorway. She caught his attention and smiled at him, 
happy to see him, glad to have a visitor to help her pass 
the time away. "Hey, Mulder," she said, doing her best to 
sit up and greet him properly.

Approaching the bed in a few, long strides, Mulder 
replied, "Hey, yourself, Scully," as he returned the smile, 
then rested a hand upon her shoulder, so he could gently 
guide her to lie back down.  He worked the controller on 
the side of the bed so that it raised up and put her in a 
sitting position with backing. This would be much more 
comfortable for her. "How are you feeling, partner?"

"I'm all right," she promised. "I'm still getting a 
little tired before evening hits, but I'm steadily improving, 
and they finally put me on solid foods!"

"Hear, hear!" Mulder cheered good-naturedly, in 
complete comprehension. He had been allowed to eat 
solid foods since last week. And while hospital food could 
never really be considered a culinary delight by any 
means, it certainly beat having to slurp up green Jell-O 
through a straw every meal.

"My doctor says I'm getting my strength back, 
little by little, more and more each day. What about you, 
Mulder? How are you feeling?"

"Me? Ah, my doctor says that I'm just about back 
to normal..." He paused and winked at her. "Well, as 
normal as I can get, anyway. And yay, I can eat that lousy 
hospital food as well, and I don't have to pee through a 
catheter anymore!"

Scully laughed appreciatively. "Yay!" she echoed 
the sentiment. "I just got my catheter out this morning!"

He smiled at her with genuine affection. Reaching 
out to touch her cheek, which was still covered in scabs 
from the bug bites, Mulder said, "Well now, that is 
something to celebrate, and I've got just the thing to do so 
in style!"

"So, we're having a catherterless pee party?" she 
joked, her blue eyes twinkling. "And what would that 
entail? Or, do I even want to know..."

Mulder chuckled, his elegant fingers lingering on 
her cheek a little longer than he needed to. "Well, it's 
actually much tamer than you might think," he told her. 
He brought up his other hand to reveal the deck of cards 
he had asked his orderly to purchase from him in the gift 
shop earlier. On the back of the cards were pictures of the 
Washington ferries. "Thought maybe we could pass the 
time playing cards, although if you want me to go with 
you into the bathroom when nature calls, I'll be there for 
you, partner."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure you would."

"I got your back... side," he teased. "Because you 
know, in these gowns, it leaves nothing to the 
imagination."

"Oh, I know," she giggled. "I've already 
embarrassed myself twice this morning in front of my 
nurse."

"Well, we can't have that!" Mulder declared, 
feigning shock. "That's definitely more for a partner to 
see."

"Eh, that's all right, Mulder," she said. "I think I 
can manage without your help."

"Okay... I guess you can come in with me, then..."

"Mulder? Why don't you just deal the cards?" she 
said, shaking her head at him in amusement and 
exasperation. "At least we have something to do now 
besides blankly staring at the television all day, especially 
considering we're not ready to leave. I look horrible!"

He checked her out and smiled. "Sorry, don't see 
horrible anywhere on you. I mean, your hair is a little 
messy, but..."

"I look like a giant pizza face!" she exclaimed, 
smacking her smart-ass partner on the arm.

He grabbed her rolling table that she ate her meals 
on, wheeled it over, placing it between them as he sat on 
the end of the bed. He started dealing the cards. "No, you 
don't look like a pizza face, Scully," he assured her. "It's 
more like you've got a bad case of the chicken pox!" He 
stuck his tongue out at her.

"Thanks a lot, Mulder," she groaned playfully. 
"That's so much better, I'm sure. Besides, it's easy for you 
to joke about it seeing as how all of your scabs are pretty 
much gone."

"Did you ever get chicken pox as a kid, Scully?"

"Of course," she replied. "It's some kind of 
childhood rite of passage, isn't it? Although they've been 
working on a vaccine for it for awhile now."

"Is it ready yet?"

"Don't know. It's a little too late for me, anyway," 
she chuckled.

He smiled. "So, when did you get them, Scully?" 
he asked, making small talk, as well as learning more 
about his lovely but enigmatic partner. He loved it when 
she would open up and tell him little tidbits of her life.

"Oh, I was... about eight, if I recall. Ah, I 
remember all four of us kids got it about the same time! I 
think it was Charlie, my little brother that actually 
brought it home. It didn't take long to infect the rest of 
us."

"Your poor mom," he laughed.

"Yeah, she still speaks of it as the dark times," Scully 
told him, picking up the cards he had dealt her. "So, what 
about you, Mulder? Ever get the pox?"

"Unfortunately, yes," he sighed. "Man, it was 
awful! I got them during my freshman year in high 
school. Got pretty sick with them, too, and I was covered in 
the nasty things from head to toe. Felt like a damn leper! 
And as soon as I scabbed over and was rendered non-
contagious, my mom made me go back to school. That 
was fun..." He cringed at the pain the memory brought 
back. He had been teased mercilessly for weeks.

Scully reached over the table, put a hand over his 
as he went to reach for his cards. She caressed it and 
smiled encouragingly at him. "Yeah, high school sure did 
suck, didn't it?" she said empathetically. 

He glanced at her in surprise, amused by her 
choice of words. He smiled. "Yeah, it sure did... big 
time!"

Seeing that his good humor was restored, Scully let 
go of his hand and gestured to the cards he had dealt 
them. "So, what are we playing?"

"Strip poker," he deadpanned, all the while, unable 
to disguise the wicked twinkle in his hazel eyes.

"In your dreams, Mulder," she smirked, folding 
her arms across her chest. "Besides, we're in hospital 
gowns. That game wouldn't last long."

"Well, I'm wearing slippers," he said hopefully.

"Right..."

"I could put a pair of socks on you, to even it up, if 
you'd like?" he offered generously.

"No, thanks."

"We could each wrap a blanket around our 
shoulders and-"

"No, Mulder."

"Damn," he muttered good-naturedly. "I was 
hoping you'd still be too weak to protest."

"Funny, Mulder."

"I thought so," he chuckled. "Well then, how about 
five card stud since you're not feeling so... adventurous?" 
He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. He 
loved her laugh.

"You know," she told him, smirking shamelessly, 
"I've heard the kind of card game a person chooses is in 
direct correlation to how they perceive themselves."

"And just where did you hear that?" he 
challenged.

"Sorry, I cannot reveal my source," she teased him.

"So, that means I'm a stud, huh? To the fifth 
power?"

"No, that means you believe yourself to be a stud... 
to the fifth power," she reiterated.

"What's yours then, Scully? I can't think of any 
game with the words 'smart ass' in the title. Oh, I got it! 
Crazy Eight's!" He was joking with her openly and subtly 
flirting with her. He hated where they were and that she 
had been injured, but he had to admit, this was pretty fun.

"No, that sounds more up your alley, too, Mulder," 
she teased. "My favorite card game has always been 
War!"

"Feisty, Scully, feisty," he chuckled. "Well, we can 
play War next, but first I'm going to kick your butt at 
poker."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "We can play 
poker, Mulder, but if there's going to be any butt kicking 
to be had, it'll be your own ass that's sore."

"So confident, are you?" he challenged.

"My dad taught all of us kids in the art of how to 
play poker. I've been beating people since I was a small 
child."

"Bring it on, G-woman!"

"Oh, I will, believe me, G-man!"

*    *    *

Mulder returned to his own hospital room at 
nightfall. He and Scully had hung out the entire afternoon 
together. They had played cards for hours, then watched 
some CNN while they had dinner. Their meal had been 
some sort of unrecognizable meat dish with some lumpy 
potatoes and stringy green beans and apple juice. It was 
awful, and they both laughed about it while they sat there 
and ate it. Still, the company was wonderful. 

He only left her room when it became obvious that 
she was getting extremely sleepy and couldn't keep her 
eyes open. Seeing as she had lost a lot more fluids than he 
had during the insect attack, she was taking longer than 
he to recover fully. He had moved her tray out of the way, 
leaving the deck of cards in her room for tomorrow. Then 
he had tucked her in, pulling the covers up to her 
shoulders and brushed a lock of red hair out of her sleepy 
eyes, before tip-toeing out and turning off her light. 

She looked to be sleeping peacefully then, and he 
smiled at her affectionately, then whispered, "Good night, 
Scully."

To his surprise, she mumbled, "'Night, Muller..." 
slurring his name most adorably, before starting to snore 
softly.

Grabbing hold of the back of his gown to keep it 
closed, Mulder walked down the hall to his room, 
marveling over the fact that Scully had beaten him twice 
as often at every single card game they played. He 
realized now that it was a good thing they hadn't played 
strip poker, or he wouldn't even have that flimsy gown to 
cover his unmentionables as he shuffled down the hall to 
his own room.

He was already planning a fail-proof strategy of his 
re-match with his lovely partner though. He was going to 
cheat!


Scene three: "The ugliest 
sweater in the history of ugly 
sweaters" [Rated PG]

December 1994
Baltimore, MD
Margaret Scully residence
3:48 p.m.

The front door opened. Fox Mulder stared 
expectantly at the woman standing before him.

"Hi, Mrs. Scully," Mulder said in a charming, albeit 
nervous, tone. "Is Scul- eh, Dana, I mean... how is she 
doing today?"

Margaret Scully smiled warmly at the young man 
standing at her threshold. "Hello, Fox. Why don't you 
come in and see for yourself?" She moved to one side to 
allow him passage.

"Thanks," he said, moving nimbly passed her into 
the house. He glanced around, looking a little unnerved.

Mrs. Scully wasn't sure why he seemed to feel so 
out of place here. During her daughter's absence he was 
over nearly every Sunday for dinner, to discuss the 
progress of Dana's case with her, and to spend time with 
someone who loved and missed the woman as much as 
he did. He had also been by his partner's side the entire 
three weeks she had spent in the hospital after being 
returned. And now, just the day after her release from the 
hospital, here he was again, longing to see her, to know 
she was all right. It made the woman smile. It was easy to 
see that Fox loved her daughter and he was a true friend. 
Perhaps something might come of it one day...

"Long time, no see," she joked, after having seen 
him only the day before while Dana was being discharged 
into her care.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," he apologized, hoping beyond 
hope that he hadn't worn out his welcome, always 
barging into their family affairs when it came to Scully. 
But he couldn't stay away. He needed to see her everyday. 
He needed to know that she was really okay; that she was 
truly real, truly back with him.

Maggie offered him another smile, trying to put 
him at ease. He had been a great comfort to her while 
Dana had been missing, and later to her older daughter, 
Melissa, when Dana had turned up, comatose, in the 
hospital. She had seen his devotion to her youngest 
daughter quite plainly. "No need to be sorry, Fox. We're 
glad you're here. Dana is in the living room right now."

"How is she feeling?" he asked, reaching out a 
tentative hand to touch Mrs. Scully's arm. In spite of her 
rapid and somewhat miraculous recovery during her time 
spent in the hospital, Mulder was still concerned for his 
partner's health. Realizing he was being so familiar with 
the older woman, he immediately let go, feeling 
somewhat embarrassed.

"She's doing very well, Fox," Margaret assured 
him, patting his hand, "although she's already bored out 
of her skull after only one day! Goodness! Dana has never 
been one who likes to remain idle."

"Yeah, I can see that," Mulder said with a soft 
smile upon his luscious lips, recalling Scully's hard work 
and tenacity on every case they had ever worked on 
together. She had energy and determination in spades. 
Having to rest on her laurels must be maddening to a 
person like her. In some ways, she was a lot like him.

"Well, go on in, Fox," Maggie urged. "I was just 
about to get Dana some iced tea. Would you care for a 
glass, too?"

"Sure, thank you, if it's not too much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all."

With another friendly smile, Maggie headed off for 
the kitchen, leaving Mulder alone in the foyer. He turned 
the opposite way and made a beeline for the living room 
where his beloved partner awaited him. He wasn't sure 
what he was expecting to find her doing in there. Perhaps 
she would be watching CNN, catching up on all the news 
she had missed out on for so long. Or maybe she was 
reading a medical journal. She had them scattered all over 
their X-Files office, and he recalled seeing some at her 
house, as well. Or maybe she was putting together one of 
those ridiculously hard 10,000 piece puzzles, with some 
tasteful picture on it, like a vase of flowers or an English 
countryside. What he did find her doing was something 
he had not expected at all, and it made him laugh out 
loud the moment he saw her.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, startling her and 
she looked up.

"Mulder!" she said, her face lighting up at the sight 
of him. Even through his laughter, he noted how happy 
she was to see him. But then her eyes narrowed. "Hey, 
what's so funny?"

"Oh, Scully," he chuckled, "out of all the things 
I've seen working on the X-Files, this has got to be even 
stranger." He sat down next to her on the sofa, so close 
that their bodies were touching.

She didn't seem to mind him invading her space in 
the slightest, although she scowled at him for making fun 
of her. "A lot of people do this, Mulder," she informed 
him, setting down the implements in her hand on the 
coffee table in front of them. "I'm sure it's way less 
shocking than finding, say... a liver eating mutant, like 
Tooms."

"Okay," he laughed. "I'll give you that, but 
seriously... Dana Scully, knitting? It boggles the mind!"

"Shut up, Mulder," she chided. "It's not as if 
there's a ton of stuff I can do right now. Hell, my mom 
doesn't even have cable!"

Mulder's eyes grew wide. "No cable? Now, that is 
more shocking than finding a liver-eating mutant! Who in 
this day and age doesn't have cable? She doesn't even get 
the Playboy Channel?"

Scully rolled her eyes. "Mulder..."

"What? I thought that was a TV viewing staple in 
every American household."

"Only in your perverted, little mind."

"What about the Playgirl Channel, then?" he 
cracked.

"Mulder, this is my mom we're talking about."

"Ah, point taken," he agreed. "Damn, you're going 
to go insane here over the next two weeks, aren't you?"

"I don't plan on staying here that long," she 
informed him, examining her fingernails and deciding 
that she needed to file them soon.

"Scully," Mulder said in a warning tone, looking 
into her still pale face, "you heard what the doctor said. 
Two more weeks of at-home bed rest before you even 
attempt to start doing anything."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Jesus, Mulder! You 
actually sound worse than my mother."

"Well..."

"Don't worry, I'll stay here for at least a week, just 
to humor Mom. And I do plan on resting when I get 
home, too, it's just... I want to be around all my stuff 
again. I want to sleep in my own bed, and eat food from 
my own fridge... watch cable on my own television. I just 
want to be... home, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he stated sympathetically, 
understanding exactly what she had meant. He put his 
arm around her shoulder, contemplating her reasons. She 
had been missing for around two months, being kept 
away God-knows-where. Then she had been mysteriously 
returned to the hospital in the middle of the night and 
had to spend a month there, too. She hadn't been "home" 
in so, so long. "I completely understand, Scully, I really 
do. I'd probably feel the same way."

She rested her head against his shoulder. "Thanks, 
Mulder."

"Of course, I'll be coming over to your apartment a 
lot while you're convalescing, to make sure you're not 
doing anything you shouldn't be," he added pointedly.

"Like what?" she asked, lifting her head from his 
shoulder and glaring at him.

"Oh, I don't know... like cleaning out your closets 
or defrosting your freezer or re-grouting your shower or 
moving the furniture around..."

He felt her shaking against him and looked down 
to see her quietly laughing. "Oh, yes, because those are 
things I was so itching to do!"

"I never know with you, Scully," he chuckled, her 
laughter a melodious and contagious thing. "You're anal 
like that."

"Anal?" she protested good-naturedly. "I am not 
anal, Mulder!"

"Yes, you are!" he taunted her. "I bet your middle 
name originally was anal. Yeah, Dana Anal Scully, M.D." 
He was rewarded with a hard smack on the arm. "Ouch!"

"Play nice, kids, or do I have to put you in separate 
corners?" Maggie called from the entryway, carrying a 
tray with a pitcher of iced-tea, two long, thin tumblers 
filled with ice, a sugar shaker and a small bowl filled with 
lemon slices. She set it down on the coffee table in front of 
them, and Mulder marveled, yet again, at the great care 
Mrs. Scully took in treating anyone who ventured into her 
home. She was a kind soul, immediately realizing that 
this was probably where his partner had learned such 
kindness and compassion. The thought made him smile.

"Thanks, Mom," Scully said, feeling a little more 
than embarrassed having her mother come in and see her 
acting so childishly with her partner. Then there was the 
fact that they were practically sitting on top of each other 
on the sofa. She thought of moving slightly away, but 

realized that would only cause more attention to their 
positions.

"Thanks, Mrs. Scully," Mulder added with a 
boyish grin that melted the hearts of both women present, 
although he was completely oblivious to his charms. He 
himself did not seem embarrassed in the slightest to be 
caught sitting on the couch smack dab next to his lovely 
partner, his arm draped casually around her shoulder; not 
even by said partner's mother.

"You're welcome, both of you," Maggie responded 

pleasantly. She walked over to the desk and retrieved her 
purse.

"You going somewhere, Mom?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, I need to get some stuff in for dinner. Fox, 
you'll be joining us, I hope?"

He seemed hesitant. Although he really wanted to, 
he was forever afraid of wearing out his welcome. He 
never wanted Scully- or her mom, for that matter- to get 
tired of him hanging around all the time. "Um, I don't 
want to impose..."

Scully squeezed his arm. She said nothing, but he 
could see the question in her eyes. "Stay?"

"It's no inconvenience, Fox," Mrs. Scully added.

"Well, okay, thank you, Mrs. Scully, I'd love to," 
Mulder answered. He was rewarded with two radiant 
smiles from the women in the room. He suddenly felt like 
the most loved person on the planet, a rare feeling for 
him.

"And Mom, it's Mulder, not Fox," Dana told her 
mother.

"Nonsense," Margaret Scully scolded her 
daughter. "His given name is Fox, and that is what I shall 
call him."

Scully rolled her eyes while Mulder chuckled 
quietly. He really didn't mind, even as much as he hated 
his name. When Mrs. Scully called him that, he got a 
warm, fuzzy feeling. The woman was just a nurturer by 
nature and he didn't mind her mothering.

"It's okay, Scully," Mulder whispered, smiling at 
her. She smiled back.


"All right, then," Maggie said, "dinner for three it 
is." She tried to recall all of the dishes she had already 
made for the young man currently sitting so close to her 
daughter on the couch during all of those Sunday dinners 
he had stayed for while Dana had been missing. She 
wanted to come up with something different for him to 
try. "Do you like lasagna, Fox?" she asked brightly.

Mulder patted his stomach. "Love it, Mrs. Scully."

"Well, that's too damn bad, because we're having 
meatloaf!" Scully cracked, causing Mulder to laugh and 
her mother to smile indulgently at her. The woman was 
just so grateful to have her cherished baby girl back safe 
and sound that she could have said they were eating dog 
food and she wouldn't have cared.

"Very amusing, Dana," she playfully scolded her 
daughter. "So, lasagna it is. Fox, you'll keep an eye on my 
daughter while she's gone? She can be such a handful, 
you know."

"Mom!" Scully groaned in embarrassment. What 
the hell has gotten into my mother today?

"Oh, don't I know it," Mulder amicably agreed 
mischievously. He received a dirty look from Scully, but 
this was well worth it. "What's the going rate for 
babysitting unruly partners now a days?"

It wasn't his best joke, not by a long shot, and he 
was sure he was going to catch flak from that same 
unruly partner the minute her mother left, but Mrs. Scully 
certainly seemed to enjoy his humor. She demonstrated 
by laughing loudly for several seconds, surprising him, 
and Scully as well, apparently, as she watched her mother 
with a stunned, open-mouthed expression.

Scully leaned in close to Mulder's ear as her 
mother was wiping mirthful tears from her eyes and 
fishing her keys out of her purse, and whispered, "I am so 
going to get you for that, Mulder."

"Looking forward to it," he whispered back, then 
winked at her.

They said goodbye to Maggie, who looked upon 
them both with affection, then she left for the grocery 
store. Just as Mulder predicted, the minute they heard the 
front door shut, he was accosted in the face by a small 
pillow from the sofa.

"What the..." he protested, yanking the pillow out 
of his partner's grasp. "Watch it, Scully!" He raised the 
pillow, preparing to strike.

She cowered against the action and called out, 
"Mulder, no! I'm an invalid!"

Mulder couldn't help it. He dropped the pillow 
and chuckled. "Damn, Scully, I gotta hand it you- you're 
good!"

"Yes, I am," she exclaimed.

"I will get you back when you're all better 
though," he promised, grinning like a fox. "You do realize 
that."

"Whatever, Mulder. You'll forget."

"Uh-uh. Got a photographic memory, remember? I 
don't forget anything!"

Scully smirked and folded her arms across her 
chest, looking like a true smart-ass. "Yeah, right, Mulder, 
sure you do. So, tell me, what's my badge number? I 
know you've seen it."

"Uh..." he grunted, drawing a complete blank.

"And when is my birthday?"

"Well, you know, it's in that month..."

"Mmm-hmm," she said, then closed her eyes, 
going in for the kill. "And what color are my eyes, 
Mulder?"
     
He took her chin in his hand and replied, "A very 
pretty blue."

Scully opened her eyes, found that he was staring 
at her, and she averted them, her skin flushing a pleasant 
pink.

Mulder let go of her chin and turned away from 
her. "So, invalid, what color are my eyes?"

"Hazel," she murmured softly, without hesitation. 
Her voice held a dreamlike quality.

He smiled, feeling equally dreamy over the tone of 
her voice. Then he said, "Wait a second! My eyes aren't 
hazel! They're green!" He seemed disappointed that she 
hadn't known.

"No, they're hazel," she insisted.

He scoffed. "I think I'd know what color my own 
eyes are!"

"Yeah, you'd think, but obviously you don't!"

"They're green," he informed her with a huff.

"They are hazel!" she retorted. "And what the hell 
are we having this argument for anyway? Aren't you 
red/green colorblind?"

"Well, my grandma used to say that I had the 
prettiest green eyes with little flecks of gold and brown," 
he told her haughtily. 

Scully tried- unsuccessfully- to hold in a giggle. 
"Yeah, Mulder, that's called hazel!"

"But I thought that hazel was brown eyes with a 
touch of green..."

"Or green eyes with a touch of brown," she 
snickered.

"Really?" he asked playfully and now she 
wondered if he really hadn't known, or if he'd merely 
been teasing her the entire time.

"Really."

"Huh... so... you've looked into my eyes long 
enough to see the touch of brown?" He smiled 
flirtatiously at her.

Scully pretended to look annoyed. "Please! It's 
pretty easy to see, even from here!"

"Well, you are sitting awfully close, Scully. Jeez, are 
you trying to get in my lap?"

She smacked him in right in the face with another 
pillow.

"Dammit!"

"You're the one who came in and practically sat 
down on top of me!" she grumbled.

"Oh, so you would rather sit in my lap," he 
remarked, his hazel eyes looking completely green now. 
He patted his leg. "C'mere, partner. It's all yours."

She looked away in embarrassment, not only over 
his innuendo, but because she was acutely aware that she 
had recently put on quite a bit of weight. If she had to be 
honest with herself, her weight gain had begun well 
before her abduction. She reasoned it had started during a 
stressful time in her life, when she and Mulder had been 
taken off of the X-Files and separated some months 
earlier. It had been a dark time for her, with few bright 
spots. It was during this separation that Scully realized 
just how strong her attachment- as well as her attraction, 
if she had to be honest- actually was for Mulder.

Coming back after two months, two lost months, 
where she remembered nothing, her body was even 
heavier than before. She'd even had to send her mother to 
the store before her release to buy her some new clothes 
and a bra, much to her humiliation. 42-D. She was now a 
42-D! She used to be a modest, but perfectly lovely 34-B! 
And she had been more than content with that. She had 
never been one of those women who longed for a bigger 
bust size, let alone one that rivaled Dolly Parton's!

Mulder noticed the silence and dark mood 
creeping up on his partner. His arm went around her 
shoulder again. "Scully?" he asked in concern. "Are you 
all right?"

"I'm much too big to be sitting on anyone's lap," 
she murmured with a faraway look and she reached out 
to pick up her knitting needles and the shapeless thing 
she had been working on for a day.

Her intuitive partner seemed to know exactly what 
she was referring to. He rubbed her shoulder as he 
watched her begin to knit with almost furious intensity. It 
was true, she had put on a little weight, but she carried it 
well. He also knew that she had put on even more weight 
during her absence away from him. She still carried it 
well! Plus, her boobs were humongous! As a red-blooded, 
American male, Mulder could find no complaint with 
that. Besides, she was still Scully, his beautiful, loyal and 
lovable partner. Now there was just a little more of her to 
love. He knew if he said that to her, she would probably 
kick his ass, then kick him out the door. He didn't say 
that. 

Instead, he told her, "You're still hot stuff, you 
know," offering her a tender smile.

"Mulder..."

"And I have it on good authority that you've still 
got the Melvin Frohike seal of approval!"

She rolled her eyes, still not able to look at him. 
"Yay!" she muttered sarcastically, and Mulder chuckled.

Feeling it best to change the subject, and hoping 
that he had made his message clear- that she was still the 
most beautiful FBI agent in a skirt since J. Edgar Hoover, 
which was Mulder speak for "you're pretty"- he said, "So, 
what are you..." and he paused to snicker, "knitting?"

"A sweater for you," she retorted, some of her good 
humor restored.

Mulder noticed the yarn she was using was a light 
coral color. "I don't know, Scully. I'm really more of an 
'autumn', don't you think?"

His heart swelled with pride when he saw the grin 
that she couldn't hide break out over her lovely face. 
"What?" she asked, her tone mocking. "You mean you 
wouldn't wear it?" She feigned shock.

"Of course, I would, Scully," he assured her. 
"Whenever you came over to my place, I'd gladly wear 
it... until the second you left!"

The grin evolved into full-blown laughter, a sound 
that was music to his ears. His partner had been put 
through hell, and all because of him, because of his quest. 
He couldn't give her back those missing months. He 
couldn't even hope to make it up to her. But if he could 
make her laugh- make her happy- even if only for a little 
while, then maybe that would ease her pain, as well as his 
guilt.

"Mulder," she said, breaking him out of his reverie. 
"Have you ever knitted anything?"

"Of course," he replied flippantly. "What else do 
you think I do when I'm watching all those videos that 
aren't mine?"

She laughed even harder at that. "Right. Of course! 
So... you want to give it a try?"

Now it was his turn to laugh. "Me? Spooky Mulder 
knitting? Get real, Scully!"  

*    *    *

Margaret Scully came home with two full bags of 
groceries about forty-five minutes later. She walked 
through the foyer and did a double take when she 
glanced into the living room.

"No, Mulder, you're looping it wrong!"

"No, I'm not! I'm doing it just like you showed 
me!"

"You know, for someone with a photographic 
memory, it sure is selective."

"Bite me, Scully! I'm doing it right!"

Scully groaned. "This is going to be the ugliest 
sweater in the history of ugly sweaters."

"So," Mulder suggested, "make it a scarf then."

Maggie watched as her daughter rolled her eyes at 
her partner. But she saw the sparkle glittering in those 
same eyes, too. She noticed the two of them were still 
sitting so closely together, their bodies were touching. It 
warmed Maggie's heart. Dana had never been one to let 
people get close to her. Even as a child, she had been so 
reserved. She was seeing a different side to her daughter 
by watching her interact with her partner. Hopefully, his 
closeness and friendship would help her to heal faster. 
And maybe, Fox would be the one to draw Dana out of 
her shell completely. She couldn't think of a better 
candidate for the challenge.

Quietly, so as not to disturb the occupants of the 
living room, Margaret Scully hurried past them and into 
the kitchen, preparing to make them a culinary delight 
that had them begging for more!



Scene four: "Dana's Delectables" 
[Rated PG-13]

May 1995
Georgetown, Dana Scully residence
7:52 p.m.

"Come on in, Mulder," Scully said by way of 
greeting upon opening her door and finding her partner 
standing there. He was holding a file in his hand and 
wearing a sheepish grin on his face.

"Sorry for the no notice, Scully," he said, walking in 
and setting the file down on her coffee table. As soon as 
he had entered her building, he had detected the heavenly 
aroma of freshly baking cookies. Once inside his partner's 
abode, he realized the heavenly scent was coming from 
her own apartment. He inhaled deeply, sighing in 
content.

"That's all right, Mulder," she was saying. "I mean, 
getting this report turned in on time tomorrow is a must."

Mulder took a good long glance at Scully, who 
looked as delicious as her kitchen currently smelled. Her 
beautiful face was dusted with flour, most likely a fact she 
wasn't aware of, because he knew her well enough to 
know she would never have answered the door like that if 
she had known, not even for him. She was wearing a pair 
of jeans that hugged her figure in all the right places, and 
a form fitting knit top that did more of the same. Over her 
clothing, she sported an apron that read KISS THE COOK 
on the front of it. He smiled. If only I could, Scully, if only... 
But God, what a wonderful smell!

"Scully," he sighed in a twitterpated tone, staring 
sweetly at her.

She seemed to know exactly what he wanted 
merely by the inflection in his tone. "Forget it, Mulder. 
You're not getting my cookies!"

Mulder smiled wolfishly at her unintentional 
innuendo. "Oh, but Scully, you've got the best cookies 
around. I love your cookies."

"Shut up, Mulder. You know what I mean."

"Do you know what I mean?" he countered.

"Just..." and she paused, momentarily flustered, 
"... shut up, Mulder."

She turned on her heel and ventured into the 
kitchen area. Without missing a beat, Mulder followed, 
forgetting all about the file he'd left on her coffee table.

The closer he got to that warm oven, the more 
heavenly that aroma became. "Day-um, Scully, it smells 
like a bakery in here." He took another long whiff, closing 
his eyes and relishing the smell.

"Yeah, I guess it does," she said absently, putting 
on an oven mitt and taking a hot cooking sheet from the 
oven. It held steaming chocolate chip cookies on it. She 
quickly put another sheet into the oven, this one covered 
with raw sugar cookies.

"You moonlighting or something?" he asked, 
spying a bowl of raw cookie dough on the counter, and 
reaching in a finger to scoop some out. "Scully's Bakery?"

She swatted his hand away with the mitt, before 
removing it from her hand. "Nah, that's too boring. How 
about... Scully's Sweet Shop?"

"Too corny," he disagreed. "Oh, I've got it! Dana's 
Delectables!" Mulder said with a leer, then scooped out a 
finger full of dough from the bowl and popped it into his 
mouth before she could do anything about it.

"Dammit, Mulder! I've measured everything 
precisely to make six dozen cookies for Saturday's church 
bake sale!"

"Yum! Now, that's one aspect of organized religion 
I can subscribe to."

Scully rolled her eyes. "Mulder, why don't you get 
started with the report in the living room and I'll join you 
shortly," she said, carefully taking the hot chocolate chip 
cookies from the sheet and setting them on a tea towel to 
cool.

"You have a little bit of flour on your face," he told 
her sweetly, making no move to leave the kitchen area, 
and in fact, had only gotten closer, invading her personal 
space.

"Where?"

"Right here," he said, touching the tip of her nose 
with his finger. "And right here," he said, wiping at her 
chin. "And right here," he went on, smoothing over her 
cheek.

Trying to hide the arousal and embarrassment over 
his close proximity and his touch, Scully instead 
concentrated on the irritation she felt over obviously 
looking so foolish. "Jeez! Am I covered in the stuff?"

"Don't sweat it, Scully. Cute look for you."

"Right. I'm sure I resemble Casper the Friendly 
Ghost. How alluring."

Mulder's eyes glittered. "Well, I for one have never 
been interested in Casper's cookies, like I am in yours."

Scully averted her gaze. "Just... go sit down, 
Mulder, and I'll be right over."

"How long is 'right over'?" he demanded to know.

She sighed. "Within ten minutes," she promised. 
"Now, shoo!" and she gently shoved him out of the 
kitchen area.

He muttered to himself. He'd at least been hoping 
to snag a cookie or two. He resigned to sitting down on 
his partner's sofa and opened up the case file, immersing 
himself and trying to ignore all the kitchenly sounds Scully 
was making merely ten feet away.

This had been a terrible case. Scully had literally 
almost lost her head to a bunch of small-town, chicken-
harvesting cannibals. He had found her, buckled into a 
contraption that kept her arms from moving and her head 
in easy striking range for someone with a steady hand 
and an axe. He had made it in the nick of time to stop 
them from killing her. The fuckers were actually about to 
behead her! He loved her head- loved it a lot, along with 
the rest of her fine self. And, he liked for it to stay right 
where it belonged, on her beautiful shoulders.

He heard Scully stirring something, her arm 
moving with feverish efficiency. He tried, again, to ignore 
it, as well as the sweet smell of fresh cookies. It wasn't 
easy, but then his mind drifted back to their work.

So many times he had almost lost her in different, 
but equally strange scenarios... too many times, if you 
asked him. He sighed again, and began writing up the 
report in earnest.

After what was more like twenty minutes, instead 
of the promised ten, Scully returned to him on the sofa, 
holding a tray that carried a large plate of cookies- 
chocolate chip, sugar and oatmeal raisin- and two tall 
glasses of milk. She set it down on the coffee table in front 
of them and smiled as Mulder's eyes lit up like a child's at 
Christmas.

"Is this for me?" he asked, his tone filled with 
delight.

"It's for us," she corrected him. "I might want a 
couple, too."

She picked up the plate filled with cookie-goodness 
and held it before his face. "What's your pleasure, Agent 
Mulder?"

Resisting the urge to say, "Why, you are, Agent 
Scully," he instead reached for and snagged an oatmeal 
cookie. "All of it is my pleasure," he told her, unable to 
hide the slight smoldering in his eyes as he shoved a 
cookie into his mouth. 

Scully smiled, blushing over his double entendre 
and watched him chow down on her offering. "Well?" she 
asked expectantly.

"Oh, 'cully," he mumbled over a mouthful of food, 
"stit's 'ood! Burr da 'est art-er eva!"

"Huh?"

He made an effort to swallow. "I said, 'oh, Scully, 
it's good! You're the best partner ever'!"

Scully blushed harder over his compliment. 
"Thanks, Mulder. Glad you like them. Uh, you're not so 
bad yourself, though..."

"Eh," he dismissed her, "I can't make cookies like 
this." He snagged another one, this time a chocolate chip, 
and shoved the whole thing into his mouth, groaning 
over it in ecstasy.

"Careful, Mulder," she warned him. "They might 
still be hot."

"I don't care," he said after swallowing and 
reaching for yet another cookie. "Damn, these are 
delicious!"

"Don't make yourself sick, Mulder."

"Eating too many cookies has got to be one of the 
best ways to make myself sick. I'm not backing down, 
Scully. I don't get homemade cookies very often, you 
know."

"Such sound reasoning," she joked, shaking her 
head with indulgent affection.

He paused to watch as she reached for a cookie 
from the plate. She didn't just grab and go, but studied 
the cookies on the top, searching for just the right one. It 
was as adorable to him as it was nerve-wracking. Finally, 
she seemed to set her sights on a sugar cookie down near 
the edge of the plate. She picked it up, put it tentatively to 
her lips, to make sure it wasn't too hot, then took a small 
bite. He saw her eyes close, a look of pure bliss appearing 
on her face. It was a breathtaking sight to behold, and he 
gazed lovingly upon her, until she opened her eyes again 
and glanced his way, as if suddenly afraid for 
momentarily letting her emotional guard down. He 
quickly grabbed up the milk glasses and presented one of 
them to her.

"Hmm," she said, realizing that he had been 
watching her with an appreciative eye, embarrassed over 
the fact, "Dana's Delectables. It does have a nice ring to it." 

She tipped her glass in his direction, and he got her 
meaning, clinking his against it.

"Hear, hear, to Dana's Delectables," he agreed. 
"Cheers!" 

"Cheers," she replied, then they both sipped the 
cold milk.

"So," he said, wiping away his milk mustache, 
much to Scully's amusement, "you planning on leaving 
the FBI and starting up a bakery?"

"Maybe," she teased. "But only if you joined me."

"Oh, you know I'd follow you anywhere, Scully," 
he told her, winking at her playfully. "How do you think 
I'd look in a baker's uniform?"

Scully chuckled. "Um, no offense, Mulder, but you 
would be nowhere near the kitchen in my bakery."

He huffed at her. "Are you insinuating that I can't 
cook, Agent Scully?"

Still giggling, she replied, "No, I wasn't 
insinuating, Mulder."

"Oh."

"I was merely trying to say that you couldn't bake 
your way out of a paper bag!"

Mulder blew raspberries at her, grateful that she 
wanted to play. They so rarely got the chance to joke 
around like this. "You wound me, Scully! Besides, who 
would want to cook in a paper bag, anyway?" He popped 
another cookie into his mouth. She was amazed, it almost 
looked as if he had swallowed it whole. She honestly 
hadn't seen him do any chewing at all. "Well, what job 
would you relegate me to, then, Master Chef? Hmm, I 
suppose I could always be your personal masseuse..." He 
waggled his eyebrows at her.

Scully expelled a breath, trying to keep her 
blushing in check and failing miserably. Her partner 
certainly was in top form tonight, flinging innuendoes at 
her left and right. It was getting harder and harder for her 
to come up with clever retorts. But thankfully, she still 
had one in her to spare. "No, I was more thinking along 
the lines of sweeping, doing the dishes and helping out 
behind the counter."

"You might want to just leave it at sweeping and 
doing the dishes, Scully. Can you really see me in 
customer service? I'd do more harm than good, I'm sure."

"Yeah, you've got a point," she agreed 
mischievously. "You can just take out the trash, then."

"Thanks a lot," he grumbled good-naturedly, 
before recalling what she had told him before when he'd 
been trying to steal some cookie dough awhile earlier. 
"Hey, I though you had everything measured out to make 
six dozen cookies exactly!"

She shrugged. "I made some more dough for 
another dozen, so we could have a treat. That's what took 
me so long."

"Aw, thanks, Scully," he said, genuinely touched. 
He affectionately squeezed her arm.

"Well," she told him in a jokingly seductive tone, 
"I know how much you love my cookies."

Mulder was momentarily taken aback. Scully was 
being flirty... or joking around... or flirtatiously joking 
around. Whatever the case, she didn't do it too often, so 
this was indeed a night of rare treats for Mulder- the 
company, the cookies and the flirting. All of it was quite 
yummy!

"I certainly do," he agreed, grabbing up another 
chocolate chip cookie and popping it into this mouth.

Scully smiled affectionately at him. "Well, cookie-
man, let's say we get this report written."

"I've already written it, Scully. You want to read it 
over? See if I missed anything?"

"More like check for misspelled words," she 
teased, picking up the file folder and reaching for her 
reading glasses from the end table. That was another treat 
for Mulder. He thought she looked very sexy in her 
reading glasses. Little did he know that she felt the same 
about him in his...

He picked up the plate of diminishing cookies- 
mostly from his efforts- and started chowing down on the 
rest of them, while Scully continued to read over his 
hastily written report. Coming to the last cookie on the 
plate, another delectable looking sugar cookie, Mulder 
was about to grab it up, but stopped himself in time. He 
instead presented it to his pretty partner seated beside 
him on the sofa. "Sugar cookie, sugar?" he asked 
seductively.

Scully chuckled, took the proffered morsel from 
him, then broke it in half. She ate one half of it, then 
playfully shoved the other half into Mulder's mouth, her 
beautiful lips covered in cookie crumbs and a devious 
smile. Oh, how he wanted to wipe those crumbs off for 
her... with his tongue, but her own tongue beat him to it, 
and he saw it dart out and wipe away the excess cookie. 
He had to stifle a moan.

"Thanks, Scully," he pretended to choke. He 
swallowed the bite, then finished his milk in one, big 
gulp. He gestured to Scully's half full glass. "You gonna 
finish that?"

"Ew..." she said. "And no, I guess not." She 
handed her glass to him.

"Ew?" he asked, pausing with her glass at his lips. 
"What's going on? Do you backwash, or something?"

"No! It's just... the idea of... sharing..."

"A drink?" he asked in confusion. They had taken 
sips of each other's drinks before, usually soda, while on 
the road. He'd found it endearing. But all of a sudden she 
didn't want to swap germs?

"Oh, no, no. Just milk specifically. I'm not sure 
why... Actually, I think it's from watching my brother Bill 
snort it out of his nose and into Charlie's glass once when 
he wasn't looking, when we were kids."

"That's disgusting!" Mulder agreed. "Did he drink 
it?"

"He... started to, but I finked on Bill. I think he 
yanked on my braid really hard for ratting him out, but I 
couldn't let him do that to my poor baby brother."

"Well... you didn't snort anything out of your nose, 
did you?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed. "Of course not."

"Then, I'll take my chances," he snickered, 
muttering under his breath, "this coming from a woman 
who performs autopsies..." With that, he downed the 
remainder of her milk with great flourish. He glanced 
over at his partner, who was currently mesmerized at 
watching his lips purse against the glass. "So?" he asked. 
"You gonna hurl now, or what?"

Her expression changed to amusement. "Nah. I 
guess it's not so bad... when one refrains from snorting it 
out of one's nose."

"That's right," he said. "So, then you surely 
wouldn't mind if I ever take a big swig out of the carton, 
right?"

"Don't you dare!" she warned him, then noticed 
the teasing look in his eyes. "Very funny, Mulder."

"I am, thanks for noticing. How'd the report read? 
Everything all right?"

"Yes, and I couldn't even find any grammatical 
errors," she teased him. "Although I noticed that you 
downplayed how you literally rushed in and saved my 
ass, just in the nick of time."

"Actually, it was your head I saved," he corrected 
her, reaching over to tuck a strand of her titian hair back 
behind her ear, "not that your ass isn't worth saving, too."

She looked away because she knew she wouldn't 
be able to hide the blush- or the smile- his statement, or 
his touch, had put upon her face.

After they finished discussing the report, Scully 
surprised Mulder by giving him a sandwich bag with a 
few more cookies in it. She made him promise to save 

them for tomorrow, which he did. Then he gave her a 
loving look, said good night, and ate all of the cookies on 
the way out to his car...




Scene five: "Monsters, Denny's 
and Gas-x" [Rated PG]

November 1995
Just outside of Cleveland, OH
Denny's Restaurant
6:38 p.m.

The hostess led Mulder and Scully to their table, 
which was a booth in the corner, away from the hoards of 
loud families and rowdy teens looking for a way to blow 
off some steam. It had been Scully who had requested the 
seclusion, and Mulder had given her a lascivious wink 
when she'd done so, although he knew she'd only asked 
for a quiet corner so they could discuss the case and get 
their report written. But a guy could dream, couldn't he?

Now he was quite grateful for his partner's 
foresight, as the hostess seated them at a booth far away 
from anyone else, where it was relatively quiet and they 
would have privacy to talk over their report... or other 
things. Each of them slid into a seat facing each other at 
the booth table. The hostess left them with some menus 
and a promise that their waiter would be over shortly to 
take their orders.

Mulder, who had been driving the better part of 
two hours, stretched out his long legs beneath the table, 
putting them on either side of Scully's. He groaned in 
satisfaction at releasing some of the tension to his 
underused muscles.

"Mulder, don't trap my legs," Scully complained, 
feeling tired and grumpy after this difficult case. She gave 
one of his feet a gentle but insistent nudge with one of her 
own.

"Ooh, Scully, you want to play footsie with me?" 
he leered at her, feeling in a flirtatious mood for some 
reason. It wasn't hard to feel such a way when one's 
partner was as beautiful and lovable as Special Agent 
Dana Scully... who seemed to be in a mood that was the 
opposite of flirtatious. She gave him the look, her eyebrow 
raised high above her lovely eye. Mulder took this as his 
cue to sit up straight and he mumbled, "Sorry, Scully," 
with a guilty-little-boy expression.

They checked out their menus in silence, each 
debating over what to order as their last meal before 
hitting the road again. A moment later, their waiter, a 
young man named Christopher, appeared and he 
cheerfully jotted down their selections. He also brought 
them two glasses filled with iced tea and, upon Scully's 
request, he left the pitcher at the table so they could get 
their own refills as needed. Then he smiled at them and 
hurried off to place their orders in to the kitchen.

"Jeez, Scully, are you thirsty?" Mulder cracked. 
"Or you just don't want to have to give Chris a big tip?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Mulder, I just want us 
to be left alone and have some privacy."

Again, the playful flirt emerged. He couldn't help 
it, especially when she unwittingly set up the perfect 
segue way to his innuendoes. Whether she did so 
purposely or not, he was never sure, but that didn't stop 
him from plowing right in. "Oh, Scully. What do you 
have in mind, hot partner?"

Unable to suppress it, Scully smiled at his silly but 
flattering compliment. "I'd like to be able to get our report 
written during dinner- hot partner."

Her return of the compliment made Mulder smile 
until his face ached... then he realized, "Scully, you want 
to discuss a fat-sucking mutant over dinner at this fine 
restaurant?"

"Please, Mulder," she sighed, "that's why I 
requested a secluded table, so as not to disturb anyone 
else with our... discussion. And 'fine restaurant'? We're at 
Denny's!"

He shrugged. "Better than most of the dives and 
fast food chains we frequent on the road," he pointed out 
and she had to agree. "You got the file?" he asked, 
blowing out a breath of frustration.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Do you not want to 
get this report finished? It's due tomorrow morning, you 
know."

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled. "I just thought 
that... maybe... we should... talk about things first... 
about the case, I mean."

Scully visibly blanched in spite of her best efforts 
not to. "Why?" she asked, point blank. It was true, her 
time spent with Mr. Incanto had affected her on so many 
levels.

"Because I know it upset you," he replied, just as 
pointedly. He tried to keep his voice neutral and free of 
the irritation that was swimming just beneath the surface 
of his calm facade. He hated it when Scully hid her 
feelings from him. They were partners. She was also his 
best friend. He wasn't sure if she considered him to be her 
best friend or not, but he liked to think of them as close- 
closer than he'd ever gotten with any other partner or co-
worker, and that included Diana Fowley, whom he used 
to date.

"Mulder, I'm fine," she said and he groaned out 
loud, startling her and surprising them both with his 
inability to hide his agitation over her need to hold back. 
Before he could come up with a suitable retort, Chris, 
their waiter, returned with their meals. 

Scully had gone the sensible route and ordered a 
large salad, while Mulder went gung ho and ordered the 
biggest, greasiest burger they had on the menu, with a 
large side order of french fries.

"Mmm, mmm good," Mulder said, and took a big 
bite out of his burger. He offered her a bite, shoving the 
greasy meat-on-a-bun into her face. "Have some, Scully. 
It's delicious!"

"No, thanks," she said, resting her hand over his 
and gently pushing the burger back his way. "I've got a 
nice salad to sustain me."

"Salad, bah!" Mulder dismissed her, making a face. 

"I don't see how that can sustain even a rabbit, much less 
a human being, even if you are shor- eh, vertically 
challenged."

"I am not vertically challenged!" she announced in 
a haughty tone, but he knew she wasn't really angry by 
his ribbing. Even she could not deny the simple fact that 
she was five foot two.

"I know," he said, deciding not to take his joke any 
further. She'd had a hard time with this case. It wouldn't 
be nice teasing her about her diminutive frame. "You're 
just right, Scully." He offered her a sweet smile and a 
meaningful look, something he had been unable to stop 
himself from doing with her lately.

Scully's blush hit her before she could look away. 
She averted her eyes momentarily and Mulder had to 
wonder why she got so embarrassed by compliments. 
Was it because she couldn't handle them, or because she 
couldn't handle them coming from him?

Again, he went the compassionate route and 
spared her any further embarrassment over the subject by 
changing it. Of course, what he wanted to discuss with 
her would very likely piss her off as well, but it was an 
issue he felt needed to be addressed. "Scully, about this 
case..."

"Mulder, I said I'm fi-"

"Don't," he interrupted her, again barely holding 
his irritation in check.

"What?"

"Dammit, Scully," he went on, and he recalled 
their time working the Donnie Pfaster case when she had 
been really affected then, too, but had refused to admit it. 

He tried not to shiver at the horrible recollection. It 
had been a dark time, not only for her, but for him as 
well. She had been missing and everyone knew that 
Pfaster probably had her and all feared the worst. After 
almost losing her months before, not knowing where she 
was, Mulder had gone through that same agonizing hell 
all over again. Thankfully, she had been found in time, 
and, for the most part, unharmed. He also remembered 
her small frame trembling under the stress, even after 
informing him that she was fine, then finally giving in to 
her feelings and falling into his arms, sobbing. He'd held 
her against him, caressing her back and hair and face, 
whispering soothingly to her as one would a frightened 
child. It had been one of the most heartwarming- and 
heartbreaking- moments spent with the woman. If he 
hadn't known for sure before, he knew then just how 
much he loved her and wanted to protect her from the 
dangers of the world, of the job, of being with him...

"Please," he tried again, this time more calmly, 
"we're partners, Scully. And we're... well, you're my best 
friend. I feel like I can tell you just about anything! Do 
you not feel the same for me?" He stared down at his half-
eaten burger, a morose expression taking over his 
handsome features.

Scully glanced down at her half-eaten salad, feeling 
suddenly terrible. She had struck a nerve with her 
partner, something that was always a possibility when 
dealing with a sensitive soul, such as Mulder. She never 
wanted to hurt him. She had so much feeling for him, 
although she dared not name it as love. She wasn't ready 
to admit such a thing, even to herself.

She, too, recalled the Pfaster case with sadness and 
horror. It was still too fresh in her memory for her to 
delve any deeper. Nor could she open herself up to him, 
admit to him that he was her best friend, too, and that she 
adored him and would do anything for him. Instead of 
answering Mulder's direct question, which would have 
given her the emotional overload she wished fervently to 
avoid- especially in the middle of a crowded Denny's 
restaurant- she began to speak of the case.

"Incanto," she murmured, "was a predator. Not 
just in the literal sense, or even in the sexual sense. He... 
preyed on women's insecurities, their... fears, their hopes, 
their desires and basic need for what we all strive for in 
life- love and acceptance. I guess it just... hurts to see my 
own gender treated this way. So much emphasis is put on 
a woman's physical appearance, when there are so many 
other attributes that are much more important in life."

"That's true," he agreed quietly. He said nothing 
more, just urged for her to continue.

"Society is set up to make women feel like... like 
they're less than what they should be just because they 
can't fit into a size three dress, or because they're not 
twenty-five anymore... These are fears that every woman 
will face at least once during their lives. Incanto, he... 
knew this and he took advantage of them. I think what he 
did to them as much worse than just killing them. He 
used them, tricked them... he raped them, if not in body, 
then in soul..." Scully's voice trailed off and she noticed 
Mulder staring at her intently, with a thoughtful 
expression.

His hazel eyes looked so sympathetic, so 
understanding of what she was trying to explain. 
Unexpectedly, he reached out to touch her fingertips with 
his own. "I completely agree with everything you said, 
Scully. Incanto was as much of a monster as Tooms or the 
flukeman- not because of his strange condition, but 
because of the way he acted, the inhumane way he treated 
other humans. He's a monster the way that... Donnie 
Pfaster..." and he paused, watching her cringe as he 
spoke the name out loud, "... is a monster. Human on the 
outside, but barren and empty on the inside."

"Soulless," she whispered sadly, and he noticed 
her chin quivering for a moment, although she did not 
cry. As much as it frustrated him when she kept her 
feelings hidden inside of her, he had to admire her 
courage.

Picking up the biggest French fry left on his plate 
and dipping it into his ketchup, Mulder held it up to her 
beautiful lips. Not really a peace offering, since they 
weren't fighting, it was more like a you're-my-best-friend-
and-I-love-you-and-don't-want-to-see-you-hurting-but-since-I-
can't-tell-you-that-I'll-just-give-you-a-french-fry-instead sort 
of thing.

Surprisingly, Scully opened her mouth and 
accepted the ketchup smothered potato, smearing a little 
of it across her full, luscious lips. Mulder barely held back 
a gasp, having not considered beforehand just how 
sensual an act between them this would turn out to be. He 
reached out with a paper napkin and wiped those 
luscious lips with a tender hand, just as he had done 
before, in another restaurant far away from here, about a 
year ago. Only that time, she had smeared barbecue sauce 
on herself.

"Thanks, Mulder," Scully said with an 
embarrassed chuckle. "The way you have to keep doing 
that, I'm wondering if I should start wearing a bib to 
dinner."

He laughed appreciatively with her. "Now, I know 
what to get you next Christmas," he teased.

"You won't remember," she chided him. "I 
wouldn't be surprised if you don't remember what we 
had for lunch today."

"Sure, I do," he retorted playfully. "We had... we 
went to... um, just give me a second here..."

Scully laughed again. "Mulder we didn't have a 
lunch today. We skipped it because we were too busy 
with the interrogation."

"Hey, that was a trick question," he protested. 
"That wasn't fair."

"You couldn't even remember that we didn't have 
lunch," she smirked at him. "Pathetic, Mr. Eidetic 
memory."

"I demand a new question!"

Taking the crumpled paper casing that had been 
covering the straw for her iced tea, Scully flicked it at him. 
It hit him right between the eyes. She snickered as he 
complained about that, too.

"Scully, are you trying to start a food fight with 
me?" he challenged.

"Technically no, since that wasn't even food I hit 
you with."

"It's food related," he informed her. "You want to 
go for it? Come on, G-woman, hit me with your best shot! 
I dare you!"

"Mulder," she told him sternly, even though her 
eyes were twinkling in merriment, "we've been kicked 
out of and banned from so many places already. Do you 
really want to add Denny's to that list?"

"Hmm, you've got a point," he conceded. "I 
wouldn't ever want to miss out on their Grand Slam 
breakfast."

Scully rolled her eyes. "Oh no, we can't afford to 
miss out on that."

"That's right, Miss Salad-Girl," he teased, then 
shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth and made a 

big show of eating it, using all the proper "mmm, mmm, 
good," noises.

She smiled at him. "You know, Mulder, we've got 
hours to drive yet and that greasy burger is going to be 
sitting there in your stomach, like a rock!"

"Yeah, I'll probably have gas the whole way," he 
countered, sounding way too gleeful about it.

"It'll be painful," she taunted him.

"It'll be smelly," he taunted back and watched as 
her nose wrinkled involuntarily. It made him smile.

"You win, Mulder," she groaned. "And I will have 
to sit with my face hanging out the window, like a damn 
dog!"

"Just don't open your mouth, Scully," he warned 
her. "You'll end up with bugs in your teeth."

"That's it, Mulder," she retorted good-naturedly, 
shoving the case file at him. "You're writing this report 
yourself!" She stood up from the table.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To rent my own car," she cracked and he laughed. 
"I'm going to the ladies' room, then I'm heading next 
door to the Walgreens, and I'm buying you some Gas-X!"

Mulder guffawed so loudly, even the people that 
should have been out of earshot entirely heard him and 
stared for a moment. "Aw, what a nice partner," he said, 
wiping his eyes. "Can you get me some diet Cokes and 
sunflower seeds, too? Maybe some corn chips, while 
you're at it?"

"Sure, sure," she replied sarcastically. "Let's just 
throw some fuel to the fire."

He winked at her. Scully shook her head, then 
walked away. As much as he hated to see her leave his 
vicinity, Mulder had to admit he enjoyed the view. She 
was such a beautiful woman, but there was much more to 
it than that. He was in love with her, too, not that he 
could tell her. He was afraid of losing her, scaring her 
away.

Fox Mulder knew he was no great catch. He may 
have been an okay looking guy- he could admit that- but 
he also knew that beauty was only skin deep. He further 
knew that Scully would never be that shallow about 
someone's looks, anyway. It was what's inside a person 
that counted. She was a substance over style sort of 
person, he could tell. The problem was, he had a little too 
much substance- more than even he could handle 
sometimes. He was damaged emotionally, consumed by 
his quest that seemed to have no end in sight. He was 
pain and agony and sadness. How could he wish that 
kind of life on the woman he loved more than anything? 
Because of him, because of his life's work, his mission, she 
had already lost so much, including two months of her 
life and memories, as well as her own, beloved sister 
being killed. Because of this job that had brought them 
together, she had been thrust into one dangerous 
situation after another, sometimes barely escaping alive. 
How could she- or anyone, really- ever love a guy like 
him?

With a melancholy sigh, he opened the file and 
grabbed a pen from his pocket. He jotted down his 
thoughts and would type it up tonight to turn in 
tomorrow morning. He'd give Scully a break on it. This 
case had truly upset her. The least he could do was not 
force her to have to deal with it all over again.

Scully returned to the table about ten minutes later, 
a plastic bag in her hand. She sat down next to him this 
time, stealing a couple of cold french fries off of his plate 
and setting her purchases on the table in front of him.

"Here's your stash, G-man," she told him.

Mulder laughed as he looked through the items in 
the bag, noticing different kinds of antacids and gas relief 
medications. "Jeez, Scully, how much gas do you think 
I'm going to have?"

"Just wanted to make sure that I covered all the 
bases, so you would have something that would work for 
you."

"Aw, what a loving partner," he teased.

"Well, I did it for my sake as well as yours, 
Mulder."

"Why? Do you have gas, too?" he asked, tying the 
bag shut by the handles.

"No! Shut up, Mulder!" She looked to be on the 
verge of sticking her tongue out at him. She refrained 
from doing so, just barely. "It's for my nose's sake."

"Ah! Well, the nose knows, Scully," he joked.

"You finish the report?" she asked quietly, daring 
to offer him a hopeful glance. Normally, both partners 

had a more active role in working up their reports at the 
end of a case. If one wrote it, the other would review it 
and offer up any additional information that might have 
been missed. But for this particular case, she really wanted 
nothing more to do with it. The sooner she forgot all 
about Incanto, the better.

"All done, Gas-X girl."

She smacked his arm. "Don't call me that... and 
thanks..."

He bumped shoulders with her. "You're 
welcome."

"Come on, Mulder, let's pay the tab and hit the 
road."

"Yeah, I still need to get some snacks for the trip," 
he said, leaving a small tip on the table for their waiter. 
He pretended not to notice when Scully dropped a couple 
more dollars on the table to add to what he'd left. It made 
him smile. Deep down, he knew she had a soft heart, 
which was probably what kept her working with him.

He paid for their meals, then they ventured back to 
their vehicle. To his surprise and delight, there was a six 
pack of cold soda in the back seat next to another plastic 
bag holding all of Mulder's favorite snack food. He saw 
his sunflower seeds, some corn chips, and those little 
chocolate donuts. He also noticed some Red Vines licorice.

"Licorice?" he blurted out loud. That wasn't 
something he usually snacked on, except for maybe at the 
movies.

"Those are for me," she informed him.

They got in, and Mulder, who was behind the 

wheel, started the car. "Thanks for all the treats, Scully," 
he said with a grateful smile.

"You're welcome, Mulder."

He let loose with a loud, long belch, unable to hold 
it in. His face turned pink and he chuckled nervously. 
Scully was right. That greasy burger suddenly felt like a 
rock in his stomach. Before he could even turn to her and 

say, "Excuse me," one of Scully's small hands appeared in 
front of his face, a pill presented to him in the palm.

"Gas-X?" he asked knowingly.

"Gas-X," she replied smartly.

Without another word, he took the pill.



Scene six: "Love sick" [Rated PG]

Fairfax Mercy Hospital
Virginia
6:23 p.m.

Mulder left the hospital room where Robert Patrick 
Modell, a.k.a. "Pusher", lay in a coma.  He hadn't been 
watching the man because he felt bad about shooting him. 
Nor did he believe the man would ever wake up. If he'd 
been asked, point blank, why he had been standing there, 
observing the unconscious criminal for so long, he wasn't 
even sure he could have answered. He supposed it was 
curiosity, coupled with a fair amount of hatred at how 
such a small, unremarkable man could have controlled 
his mind in such a way that he almost killed himself... 
almost killed his partner...

Scully!

God, if he had pulled that trigger at Scully, then it 
would have been her lying in this bed, in a coma and 
struggling to survive, or worse... The reality of the 
situation hit him hard, just as hard as it had hit him when 
he'd gone through it only hours before. 

Feeling ill, Mulder left the hospital room, and 
continued to the parking lot, where his partner awaited 
him. He had to stop twice, doubling over from the pain in 
the pit of his stomach. He was at least grateful that there 
were no hospital staff around to see him, because he 
didn't want to stay here another minute. He was also glad 
his partner hadn't seen him, because she surely would 
have made him stay.

*    *    *

Scully was standing by their car, checking her 
watch and feeling a little impatient to go. About ten 
minutes earlier, she had found her partner in Modell's 
room. He had been standing near the bed, staring down at 
the comatose killer, who was not only suffering from the 
gunshot wound Mulder had given him, but also from a 
fatal brain tumor. This tumor had supposedly given the 
Pusher his extraordinary mind control powers, even as it 
drained him of physical strength and was killing him. 
Scully did not know how such a thing could occur, 
although she was sure she would never find out, never be 
able to test this hypothesis. In fact, she had no idea what 
kind of test she could run that could either confirm or 
deny this theory she and Mulder had entertained. 
Frankly, she did not care to know. She only wanted to 
forget about Robert Patrick Modell and move on with her 
life. After what he had done to her partner... to think of 
this latest monster in their cache' of monsters left her skin 
crawling and tears forming in her eyes. She knew she 
would never be able to fully forget about Pusher, just as 
other names haunted her on the fringe of her conscience. 
Names like Tooms, L'Ively, Boggs, Pfaster, Incanto... 
horrible, evil people she fervently wished she had never 
come across.

After watching her partner stare at Modell for a 
moment, she had gone to his side, taken his hand and told 
him not to let the Pusher waste any more of their time. 
And while she knew that this latest case had cut Mulder 
down to his soul, she truly hoped he would try to let go 
and leave it alone. Mulder had seemed unable to take her 
words to heart, and it was obvious that he had lingered 
there much longer after she had left the room. She hoped 
beyond hope that her guilt-ridden partner and best friend 
wasn't going to waste any sympathy on that little pissant. 
Modell certainly didn't deserve it. 

Just when she was about to march back into the 
hospital and bodily drag Mulder out of hospital and back 
to the car for his own good, Scully spotted her partner 
leaving the side double-doors to the hospital and walking 
towards her and their car. Before she could even get a 
clear view of his face, she knew that something was 
wrong. She could tell simply by his body language. He 
wasn't walking in a precise straight line to her location, 
but rather weaving back and forth. He seemed unsteady 
on his feet, not quite stable. His hand clutched at his belly 
several times. As he drew closer, her fears of his misery 
were confirmed. She could see the pained expression, the 
guilt in his beautiful eyes, the pallor in his face. 
Impatience and irritation at him keeping her waiting fell 
by the wayside in favor of concern and compassion.

Scully didn't wait for him to come to her, she met 
him half way. Once she reached him, she took hold of his 
arm and led him back to their vehicle. "Mulder, what's 
wrong?" she'd asked, reaching up to lay her hand against 
his cheek, which felt clammy and sweaty.

"Nothing," he lied, just concentrating on making it 
to the car. If he could make it, then they could drive away 
and put some distance between him and the evil Robert 
Patrick Modell.

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Mulder, you don't look 
well at all. You're shaky and pale and sweating. Maybe I 
should take you back into the hospital and have you 
examined by-"

"No!" he practically shouted into her face. When 
she stared up at him, now looking extremely worried, he 
forced himself to calm down. "I mean, no thank you, 
Scully. I'm fine."

"Mulder," she said, going into doctor mode, 
"Modell really did a number on you in there. Perhaps 
there are some residual side effects from his mind control 
that need to be addressed, for your own safety and-"

"Scully," he interrupted, gripping her arm so 
tightly that it hurt. "Please do not make me go back into 
that hospital. I never want to step foot in there again."

Finally understanding, Scully blew out a breath of 
resignation and gave in. She nodded, gently prying his 
fingers from her arm and taking his hand in an easy grip. 

"All right, Mulder. Why don't we just... well, let's get you 
closer to home, and see how you feel then? But I want to 
drive, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he easily agreed, realizing that he 
was in no condition to drive anyway. He fished in his 
pocket for the keys, produced them and handed them to 
her. "Here you go."

"Thanks," she replied, sweetly. "Mulder, would 
you rather lie down in the back seat, so you can stretch 
out a bit? It might make you feel a little better," she 
suggested as she unlocked the car doors.

As much as he craved Scully's closeness, and 
sitting in the front seat would keep him that much closer, 
maybe lying down for awhile would ease the tumult 
currently churning in his stomach a little, so he agreed. 
"Yeah, that might help."

She smiled sympathetically at him, as he climbed 
into the back seat of the car. "Just relax, Mulder. I'll try to 
take it easy on all the bumps and turns."

"Thanks, Scully," he replied, trying to smile, 
although it came off as more of a grimace.

"You're welcome." She eased the car carefully out 
of the parking space and out of the parking lot entirely. 
All the while, she felt so badly for her partner. She wished 
someone else had been here with them, so she could have 
left the driving to him while she sat in the back seat to 
comfort Mulder. She longed to have his head rest 
comfortably on her lap while she ran her fingers through 
his messy hair and soothed away the pain and sadness 
with her tender touch. She never admitted it out loud, but 
she knew damn well the healing, calming effect her touch 
had on the agonized man in the back seat. She didn't 
know why she should have such an effect on her partner. 
She simply knew it to be true.

While grateful for Scully's "bump-free" driving, 
Mulder still felt himself getting increasingly queasier with 
every passing minute. He could not stifle his moans of 
discomfort and longed for his partner's hand in his hair, 
or caressing his brow as he fell into sleep with his head on 
her lap. He felt bereft of her touch and that only 
exacerbated the agony churning in his stomach. He never 
felt car sick before like this, but reasoned that this bout of 
queasiness had started before ever returning to the car. 
He realized that his symptoms were due to the stress and 
terror and... horror of his ordeal with the Pusher. The fact 
remained, whether he wanted to face it or not, whether 
Scully downplayed it or not, he had nearly shot his 
partner with an intent to kill.

Pusher had nearly made Mulder do the 
unfathomable. He had almost made Mulder kill the one 
person he loved more than anything or anyone else in the 
world. His mind was reeling with this revelation. He 
could not stop thinking about it. Scully. I almost killed my 
Scully...

"Scully!" Mulder exclaimed in a panic. "Stop the 
car! Pull over, please!"

She did so right away, pulling off to the side of the 
freeway. The car had barely come to a halt when Mulder 
threw open the door and stumbled over near some 
bushes. He thankfully made it back behind them before 
the contents of his stomach started spilling, as he hunched 
over, falling to his knees, in the dirt. So horrible was the 
agony in his stomach and the roaring sound of the traffic 
to his ears and so intent was his body on purging itself of 
everything he had eaten recently, it took him a moment to 
realize that there were two small hands upon his 
shoulders. Those hands were gently kneading away his 
tension, soothing him, comforting him in his most 
vulnerable state. Scully had followed directly after him 
from the car and had been with him through it all. He had 
no doubt in his addled brain that if he'd had long hair, 
she would have been holding it back for him. As it was, 
she'd been thoughtful enough to pull his tie out of the 
way.

She was always there for him, even after he had 
almost shot her. Another wave of nausea hit and he 
spewed forth yet again, this time causing his body to 
nearly convulse with the effort. Her hold on his shoulders 
became firmer, as she steadied him. Once his stomach had 
expelled itself of every meal he'd ever had, it seemed, and 
he had managed to control the dry heaves, which 
momentarily wracked through his body, Mulder sunk 
further to the ground, shivering uncontrollably and 
sobbing just as intently. He knelt at his partner's feet, and 
looking down at her pretty shoes that he'd just missed 
throwing up on a moment ago. He reached for her, 
wrapping his arms around her legs. He couldn't look at 
her, not now, not while the guilt was still gnawing at him 
from the inside out. But he needed to touch her, to 
reassure himself of her presence and her safety.

Reaching into her pocket, Scully produced a clean 
tissue, then leaned down towards him. She looked 
imploringly into his tear-streaked face and proceeded to 
wipe away the tears of guilt and pain. Her own eyes full 
of compassion for her friend, she touched his cheek 
briefly, then used the tissue again to wipe away any 
residue from his mouth. She realized that he wouldn't 
look at her, instead, he'd buried his face against her hip, 
getting lost in the folds of her overcoat. "Mulder?" she 
asked softly.

"I'm so sorry, Scully," he cried against her coat. 
"I... I never meant for that to happen..."

He could feel her running her fingers through his 
thick, sweaty hair. Her other hand was gently rubbing 
soothing circles on his back. "It's all right, Mulder. I 
understand. You've faced such a horrible ordeal, it's no 
wonder you're sick to your stomach."

"No!" he exclaimed, sobbing and choking all at 
once. She had misunderstood him again. He took her 
hand and gently pulled her down in front of him. She 
appeared somewhat confused, but as always, for him, her 
eyes were flooded with compassion as she knelt there 
with him in the dirt.

"Mulder?" she asked, taking his hands in hers. 
"What is it?"

"Scully," he whimpered in a quiet, tortured voice, 
"I... I almost killed..."

She knew what he was going to say and she 
stopped him. "No, Mulder," she corrected him, "Modell 
almost killed me, almost killed us both. You are not to 
blame. I know what he was doing to you. I could see it so 
plainly on your face that you could not stop yourself, 
especially when he made you shoot at yourself." She 
quieted, shivered from the memory. That image would 
haunt her for a long time to come. 

"That wouldn't have mattered," he hiccuped 
against her shoulder, the linen fabric of her coat smooth 
against his cheek.

"It would have mattered a whole hell of a lot to 
me!" she barked at him, seemingly shocked that he could 
say such a thing, especially to her.

Though Mulder put his partner's life ahead of his 
own and considered it more valuable, and though he had 
meant what he'd just said, he changed tactics, not 
wanting to upset his beloved partner or make her angry 
at him. In his current state, he did not think he could take 
her anger.

"I just meant," he lied, "that it didn't matter 
because the chamber I shot at myself with was empty."

"Oh. Well, it still scared me," she admitted and he 
could feel her shiver against him.

He hugged her tighter. "I know," he whispered 
into her hair, before looking at her. "If our situations had 
been reversed and I'd of had to see you do that to 
yourself, I... it would have killed me."

Scully could hear the raw emotion in his voice, 
could see the pain in his face, could feel the desperation in 
his nearly crushing embrace. It was an emotional 
overload for Scully, which only happened to her when 
dealing with this man, especially in the aftermath of such 
intense situations. She tried to lighten the mood a little by 
joking, "Bad choice of words, Mulder."

Her efforts paid off and she could feel him 
chuckling against her as he continued to hold her tightly 
to him. "Sorry," he mumbled, his face back to her 
shoulder.

"S'okay," she replied, tousling his hair before 
running her fingers through it again. "You feeling better 
now? Can you stand?"

"Yeah," he said, and balancing against each other, 
they stood together.

Mulder wasn't yet ready to break physical contact 
with her, however. His need to touch her too strong to 
ignore, he spied an errant strand of hair- this was a 
personal favorite of his- and he reached for it, tucked it 
reverently back behind her ear. Then he caressed the fine 
porcelain of her cheek with his fingers. "Scully," he 
murmured softly, not wanting to relinquish his touch 
completely, "I'm still so sorry by what happened. But I... 
I hope you know that I would never try to purposely hurt 
you."

"Of course, I know," she assured him with 
certainty in her tone and a loving smile on her lips. 
"We're partners... friends. Mulder, I saw you struggling 
against him, trying to give me the chance to escape. 
Considering Modell's significant powers of mind control, 
I'd say your efforts to keep me from harm went beyond 
extraordinary. I guess it shows just how strong your own 
mind was to deflect him for so long."

He shook his head. "I wasn't struggling against 
him with my mind, Scully. I was... using my heart." And 
he rested his hand over it for a moment, giving Scully the 
absurd idea that he looked like a romantic poet straight 
out of Shakespeare's era.

This time, it was she who embraced him, and with 
such intensity, it surprised him. The contact was brief, 
and she felt a little awkward for having this 
uncontrollable compulsion to hold him, but it was a 
completely sincere and heartfelt demonstration. Surprised 
though he was, Mulder gratefully accepted this rare gift 
and hugged her back even tighter.

"Well, come on, Mr. Big Heart," she teased him 
playfully, "let's go home."

"Okay." He reluctantly released his hold on her, 
something that seemed even more difficult and 
undesirable to do than facing Pusher.

They returned to the car. Though Scully still opted 
to drive, Mulder felt well enough to sit with her in the 
front seat. He slept through most of the drive back to his 
apartment, his hand stretched out across the seat and 
resting against her leg. Knowing all he had been through, 
she allowed the contact, reveled in it. Occasionally, she 
would glance his way, see that he was still sleeping. Once 
in awhile, she would caress the hand lightly touching her 
thigh.

Instead of having horrible nightmares about Robert 
Patrick Modell and reliving the horrible moment of 
almost pulling the trigger at Scully, Mulder found himself 
amidst happy dreams involving his lovely partner, 
dreams about touching her face, and holding her close...



Scene seven: "The Nose Knows" 
[Rated PG]

November 1996
Chicago Court Hotel
Chicago, IL
7:21 a.m.

Mulder was still trying to cram his small toiletry 
bag into his suitcase when he heard the knock on his hotel 
room door. He knew that knock instinctively. "It's open, 
Scully," he called.

Scully opened the door, carrying in her own neatly 
packed suitcase. She set it by the door, then observed her 
partner struggling to get his own suitcase to shut tight 
enough to zip up. He wasn't doing a very good job of it. 
She shook her head and smiled at him while he remained 
distracted by the task at hand. "Need some help, 
Mulder?" she asked, coming towards him.

"Yeah, sit on it."

"Excuse me?"

Mulder chuckled over the misunderstanding and 
the haughty confusion in her voice. "Sorry. I didn't mean 
to sound like the Fonz, or anything. I just meant, if you 
could sit on my suitcase, I might be able to finally zip it 
closed. I think I just need a little more weight..." He 
glanced hopefully at her, fully aware of how ridiculous 
his request sounded.

She gave him the look, the one that said she did not 
want to be doing this, but she sighed and hopped up onto 
the suitcase without complaint. "The things I find myself 
doing for you, Mulder," she grumbled.

"I know," he agreed distractedly. "If you're not out 
chasing aliens or investigating cases of witchcraft, you're 
sitting on suitcases. The X-Files is a wild division, you're 
right." She made a face at him, but he didn't see it. She 
was glad of that after what he said next. "You're the best 
partner ever, Scully."

"Thanks, Mulder," she replied sweetly.

"Now, push your butt down on that suitcase- 
really hard! I mean, just grind down onto it if you need 
to."

"Why do I suddenly feel like an actress in one of 
those videos that aren't yours?" she balked, yet she did as 
he asked, anyway.

Mulder paused to admire her sexy form pushing 
her bottom down on his suitcase. God, I'll never wash that 
suitcase again... not that I ever have before, but I definitely 
never will now! "Say, now that you mention it," he teased 
her. "Day-um, but that looks hot!"

"Shut up, Mulder, and just zip the stupid thing up 
already!"

Her efforts, valiant though they were, just weren't 
enough to close the suitcase for zipping. Mulder stopped 
trying and put a hand to his chin, mulling over what to do 
next. "Hmm, maybe you should try bouncing."

"What?"

"Bouncing," he explained, "up and down. That 
should help... and it might just get the suitcase closed, 
too." His eyes gleamed wickedly.

"Up yours, Mulder, I am not bouncing!"

"Ooh, listen to that trash talk coming from such a 
pretty mouth," he sniggered.

"Shut up, Mulder," she warned him again.

"Ah, forget it, Scully," he sighed in defeat. "You're 
just too light."

"Then maybe you should sit on it, Mulder," she 
suggested, "and I will zip up the suitcase."

"Yeah, good idea," he muttered. He'd been looking 
forward to watching her bounce up and down for him on 
his suitcase. He honestly thought she would do it.

Taking her hand to steady her, Mulder helped her 
down off of the suitcase, whereupon the lid popped open 
and the overflowing contents spilled out all over the hotel 
bed. "Dammit!" he cursed, just as Scully began to laugh. 
"No, don't laugh, Scully," he whimpered, "I was once like 
you..." He glanced longingly over at her neatly packed 
suitcase.

"Somehow I doubt that, Mulder," she chuckled. 
"At least not when it comes to packing. God, don't you 
even know how to properly pack a suitcase?"

"Well, I think it's pretty apparent that I don't," he 
snapped, before pulling all the stops with his puppy dog 
eyes. "Could you help me, Scully? Please? So, we're not 
late for our flight?"

Scully rolled her eyes at him. "Mulder, we've been 
partners for four years and you've never had to ask me 
for help before. How did you manage to survive before 
this intervention?"

He chuckled over her choice of words. "Luck and 
really great shoving power," he announced, pumping a 
fist, looking like an idiot.

Of course he got yet another roll of the eyes from 
her, but he expected nothing less. "Lovely, Mulder," she 
uttered sarcastically. "No wonder you're such a ladies' 
man."

Mulder snorted. "You're the only lady in my life, 
Scully," he told her truthfully and he waited, gauging her 
reaction. He assumed he would stun her into silence, 
which he had, but he was surprised and delighted to see 
the pretty blush appearing on her cheeks. "And I never 
got any complaints from you," he added, unable to help 
himself. He wondered why he always had to do that. He 
ruined so many potential loving moments between them 
by acting like a turd. Of course, she did the same with her 
acts of denial. Still, his sabotage was so much more mood 
breaking.

She sighed and averted her gaze, which was an 
equally common occurrence between them, and began 
folding his expelled clothing neatly and placing them 
carefully into the suitcase. And that's when she found the 
brochure. It had been sticking out and it aroused her 
curiosity. She picked it up and glanced at it. "What is 
this?" she asked, even as she read the front of it.

This time, it was Mulder who blushed and averted 
his eyes. He had forgotten that he'd put that in there. His 
ears starting to feel hot from his blush, he looked over her 
shoulder at the brochure's cover, which read: Things to 
Know When You're Considering Rhinoplasty. He watched, 
through furtive glances, at the frown that instantly 
appeared on Dana Scully's face. When she looked at him, 
the frown transformed into pure disapproval. "Mulder... 
I hope you're not seriously considering this."

Completely embarrassed and humiliated, Mulder 
did not care for her disappointed expression. He snatched 
the brochure deftly from her hand. "And so what if I 
am?" he challenged her defensively, turning away from 
her and shoving the paper back into his suitcase. Then he 
picked up some clothing articles and crammed them in 
messily on top of it.

Scully removed the rumpled shirt and boxers, 
folded them with speed and efficiency that made Mulder 
roll his eyes. Was there anything in the world Scully didn't do 
efficiently? Then she removed the offending article of the 
day and held it behind her back. "I really hope that you 
don't do this, Mulder, ever," she told him quietly. Gone 
was her disapproval. In its place was concern and 
possibly worry, which confused Mulder a little. He 
couldn't be sure, of course, as his partner was a master of 
disguise when it came to her feelings.

"Why not?" he muttered, sounding a little bitter 
and angry. These emotions were not directed at her, 
although he certainly made it seem as though they were. 
"Is rhinoplasty such a dangerous operation?" He knew 
that any surgery could be risky, simply from the 
anesthetic or the possibility of infection, but he had never 
heard of anything extraordinarily dangerous about this 
type of surgery itself.

"Any surgery has inherent risks," she told him, 
echoing his thought of just a moment ago, and going into 
full-blown doctor mode.

Great! Another long-winded Scully lecture! He 
groaned aloud, startling her. "I am aware of that fact, Dr. 
Scully," he hissed.

"And sometimes," she went on gently, stepping 
closer to him, resting one of her small hands upon his 
trembling arm, "these types of surgeries don't work out 
the way they're intended to."

"So, you're worried that I might get a botched job 
and look even worse than I do now?" he questioned 
moodily.

She ignored his outburst, continuing as her hand 
slid up to his shoulder, and she snaked her arm around 
him. "And, of course, I would say, why fix something that 
isn't broken in the first place?" She offered him a loving 
smile that made him weak in the knees.

He sat down at the foot of the bed next to his half-
packed suitcase, and she sat down right along with him, 
her arm still wrapped around him.

"Scully," he pleaded, staring into her soulful blue 
eyes, "I developed this honker as a freshman in high 
school. I got teased about it mercilessly."

"Kids can be cruel," she soothed him, resting her 
head on his shoulder.

"Have you ever been teased because of your nose?" 
he asked her, thinking she would say no. Her nose was 
too cute to pick on... er, get teased about.

"Maybe a couple times, Mulder, but I've been 
picked on for countless other things."

This bit of news surprised Mulder. "Really? Like 
what?" he demanded to know, looking like he would 
personally hunt down and beat the living daylights out of 
anyone who would have the gall to do such an 
unthinkable thing.

"Like for a lot of things, Mulder," she explained. 
"As I said, kids can be cruel. I got picked on for... for 
being a Navy brat and always being the new kid in 
school. I was always..." and she paused long enough to 
give him a warning glare, daring him to say a word, "... 
kind of small for my age. I was bad at athletics, a big 
science geek... I had braces, freckles, acne during 
puberty... then of course, there's my red hair..."

He couldn't believe all the stuff she had 
mentioned. She was short, but in the cutest possible way. 
Not being athletic usually didn't draw too much attention 
if one was female. Smart was sexy. Braces were a part of 
puberty, as was acne, and he adored all her freckles. 
Secretly, he would have loved to play connect the dots 
with them, especially the ones not on her face. But of all 
the things she had mentioned, he had to draw the line at 
her hair. He loved her hair. How could anyone tease her 
about that soft, luxurious, sweet smelling mane of Scully 
hotness...

"What's wrong with red hair?" he scoffed.

"Nothing, but its unusual, therefore fair game to 
jerks and bullies..."

"I love your hair," he said, smiling at her and 
reaching out to play his fingers through her strawberry 
strands. The gesture made Scully blush furiously.

"Thank you, Mulder, but considering you're 
red/green colorblind, I..."

"Red is soft," he told her, his hazel eyes gazing 
lovingly at her. "It's warm, and it smells like..." he 
paused a moment to lean close to her and take in a whiff 
of her scent. "... the first day of spring, when the flowers 
start to bloom, in the sunshine... next to the sea..."

Scully saw the raw emotion in his gaze, 
accompanied by his corny-as-hell but sincere sentiment 
and she felt herself grow flush with arousal, which 
embarrassed and irritated her. She didn't like losing 
control of her emotions, but she always had so much 
trouble keeping them in check when dealing with her 
handsome and flirtatious co-worker and best friend. The 
compliment he had just bestowed upon her was more 
than she had ever received even from a lover. But then 
again, she had never been as affected by any lover as she 
had by her partner. God, the way he makes me feel...

"So, how would you feel if I colored my hair, 
became a blond?" She didn't have the heart to tell him 
that the brilliant red of her hair- not that he could truly 
see it, anyway- was not exactly natural. She'd always had 
more of a brownish red color growing up, and as she got 
older, she had decided to go bolder. She smiled at the 
thought, and the rhyme.

"I think I'd want to break your hairdressers 
fingers, if he did that," she heard Mulder say in no 
uncertain terms, which frankly shocked her a little.

"Uh..." she began, momentarily at a loss for 
words. "Well... I wouldn't like it if you changed your 
nose."

He chuckled. "Would you break the surgeon's 
fingers, Scully?" he asked hopefully.

She could tell he was kidding, of course, but she 
could also tell he needed her to kid right back. "Yes, 
Mulder," she groused, "I'd break them, one by one."

His smile extended widely, which in turn caused 
her to do the same. He had to bite his lower lip to keep 
from giving in to the urge to kiss her. And it wasn't easy, 
as she looked extremely kissable in that moment. But he 
held back his passion and desire for her, just as he had 
been doing since very early on in their partnership. He 
knew that she didn't really love him... not in the way that 
he loved her, in the way that he longed for her to love 
him. Giving into such reckless impulses was only a 
dangerous thing at this point. Mulder knew of danger, 
lived it, reveled in it. But when it came to matters of the 
heart, his heart, he knew that Scully owned it, and he 
needed to keep her with him. If he pursued her 
romantically and she rejected him, or left him, he felt as if 
he could not go on. So, he played it safe, kept all of his 
love inside, showing only small subtleties of his feelings 
just once in a great while, like now...

Unable to completely suppress his urge to touch 
her, he settled for reaching for her, and enveloping her in 
his embrace. He loved the feel of her small body pressed 
to his. As long as he at least had her close in the figurative 
sense, with the occasional closeness in the literal sense, he 

felt he could make it through life. He bent down, resting 
his face against her head, nuzzling his nose- that she 
appeared to love- into her hair, taking another long 
inhalation of her scent. This simple action would be able 
to sustain him for many a lonely night.

Scully relished the affection and gave as much as 
she got, holding him tightly against her, relieved that he 
appeared to have dropped all of this plastic surgery 
nonsense. How could he not see that he was the most 
beautiful man on earth? How could he not realize how 
many women grew weak in the knees at his arrival into 
their midst? She, of course, certainly had to be counted 
among those women, although she could never dare tell 
him or admit to it. 

She recalled just a moment before that her partner 
looked to be contemplating kissing her. She had been 
excited for it, just as she had been scared of the 
consequences for doing so. She'd been monumentally 
disappointed that he hadn't done so, but she reasoned 
with herself that she was his friend and partner, like a 
cohort, a buddy. Though he flirted with her openly on 
numerous occasions, she knew better than to take it 
seriously. With a tinge of sadness, she had realized some 
time ago that she was not Mulder's type. She had 
witnessed the sort of woman who turned his head, either 
by meeting women from his past, or observing him 
gazing at other women they came across during their 
travels together. Not one of those tall, usually brunette, 
buxom women had resembled her in the slightest.

Perhaps it's all for the best, anyway, she would think 
during those occasions, just as she was thinking now. I 
know how disastrous mixing work and romance can be. Both of 
my two "adult" relationships were born of this circumstance, 
and both had ended so badly...

Still, there was another part of her, the part that 
wasn't sensible, or who learned from her previous 
mistakes- the human part of her- that was greatly 
saddened over never getting the chance to know Mulder 
that way. As with most things of a personal nature, Scully 
kept so much inside and hidden away from everyone- 
including herself. She knew she could not speak the truth 
to him, not now, not ever. She could not tell him that he 
was first on her mind when she woke up every morning 
and the last thing on her mind before drifting off to sleep. 
She could never say that she dreamed about him, both 
while sleeping and awake and that she had a million and 
one fantasies, all centered around him. She couldn't say- 
would not even let herself realize fully- how much she 
loved him.

So, she could never earn his love. It hurt, but she 
had to accept it. But she did truly cherish his friendship 
and trust. Those were things he did not dole out easily, 
and she felt honored to have them bestowed upon her 
humble self. She wouldn't wish to lose those, or him. She 
would be devastated if she ever did.

Reluctantly, the partners pulled apart after a 
minute or two, out of each other's embrace. He watched 
as she carefully folded up the rest of his scattered 
clothing- he got a bit of a thrill when she touched a couple 
pairs of his boxer shorts, he could admit it- and placed it 
deftly into the suitcase. Then she easily zipping it closed 
without any need of assistance.

"Thanks, Scully," he said affectionately.

"You're very welcome, Mulder."

The sentiment in the room was suddenly stifling to 
Mulder and he knew that he either had to kiss her entire 
face and body, or relieve some tension elsewhere, which 
is what he did, with a lame attempt at humor. "Wow, you 
did that so well, I'm just going to have to call you to come 
pack for me every time we go on a trip from now on." He 
gave her a dopey grin.

"You're so full of it, Mulder, it's almost funny," she 
retorted, glad to be wading passed the dangerous waters 
of attraction and venturing back into the safety net of 
sarcasm, for the time being.

They chuckled together, then Mulder picked up 
both of their suitcases and headed out the door. He 
glanced back to see Scully tear the rhinoplasty brochure in 
half and toss it into the trashcan on her way out.



Scene eight: "50/50- Snickers, 
sniping and sex" [Rated R]

February 1997
The J. Edgar Hoover Building, FBI headquarters
The X-Files basement office
10:54 a.m.

It was coming up to an hour until lunchtime, and 
Mulder was getting hungry. He had already stolen from 
Scully's "secret candy stash" an hour before that, while 
she had gone to the restroom. It caused him to chuckle 
inwardly at the description. Scully's secret stash was only 
really a secret in the sense that she did not know he knew 
about it. She had always kept some delicious chocolate, or 
occasionally licorice. Licorice was not exactly his cup of 
tea, although he really enjoyed the smell of it, for some 
reason, and he certainly enjoyed watching Scully eat it. 
And she kept all of this culinary treasure underneath her 
purse and other personal items in the one desk drawer 
that he had cleaned out for her to use after she had started 
working with him four years earlier.

Mulder felt he had little to smile about now-a-days. 
Through furtive glances, he had been continually 
watching his beautiful, but enigmatic partner all morning. 
She had remained stonily silent since they had been 
sitting at the desk and she had claimed that not 
everything was about him. She had said, "This is my life." 
He'd been about to reply, "But it's mine, too," since it was 
true, she was his life, but something in her eyes told him 
to bite back his declaration. Now would not be a good 
time. Looking at her now, as she bustled about the office, 
purposely ignoring him, he wondered if there ever would 
be a good time to admit his love for her.

Scully was currently busying herself with catch-up 
work, getting up-to-date on any lagging reports. She had 
already done a little filing and after that had tidied up the 
office; anything that kept her working and gave her an 
excuse not to interact with him.

This thing in Philadelphia- the city of brotherly love, 
my ass! Mulder grumbled about it under his breath, as 
well as about Ed "Fucking" Jerse, as he came to think of 
him. The whole situation, as well as the events leading up 
to it, had put a big, huge, giant rift between he and Scully. 
It was a rift the size of a canyon, and all he wanted to do 
was put a bridge over it quickly, and meet his partner half 
way, where they would fall into each other's arms. He 
still could not believe all that had happened in Philly just 
hours earlier. His beloved partner, his best friend, and the 
woman he loved, had rebelled against the X-Files... 
rebelled against him! Getting a stupid tattoo- that would 
be a permanent reminder of this horrible time- and going 
off and fucking some psycho asshole whom later tried to 
kill her. That last part had hurt him more than anything 
else had...

Couldn't she see the pain she had caused them 
both by acting this way? He honestly thought they were 
destined to be together, and that someday they would 
overcome the odds and win all of their battles, find their 
truths. He always envisioned walking off into the sunset 
with Scully, maybe finding some out-of-the-way paradise 
where they could lie in the sun all day (as long as Scully 
wore sunscreen, he didn't want her to burn) and hump 
like bunnies all night. But she... hadn't remained faithful 
to him. Not that they had ever verbally made any 
promises to each other to do so, but he always assumed 
that they had some unspoken pact between them, 
promising fidelity. Of course, he had fucked that vampire 
lady a couple years back, but he regretted it immensely. 
He figured it was just a case of missing his partner and 
confusing the feelings and using extremely bad judgment. 
It was something that he was truly sorry for. He'd never 
told her so, but the fact that he meant it made him reason 
that it should be forgiven.

He realized that it was possible that Scully might 
be feeling the same way over her recent indiscretion 
marring her beautiful skin with a tattoo, having sex with 
some stranger who nearly killed her, and nearly killing 
her partner with fear and heartbreak by her reckless 
behavior. But did she regret it? Was she remorseful at all 
over her foolish and harmful actions? If she was truly 
repentant, she was certainly keeping it all to herself.

Getting up to stretch, Mulder sauntered over to the 
filing cabinets and pretended to search for something. He 
wasn't really looking for anything, except for a sign that 
he and Scully might be on the verge of making up, being 
okay again. Unfortunately, he didn't see anything in her 
demeanor to indicate that at all. He sighed sadly.

While his back was turned, he did not notice Scully 
get up and venture over to her desk drawer. He heard the 
drawer open and turned in time to watch her rifling 
through it, digging past her feminine products and 
medical journals and underneath her purse, going right 
for her "secret stash", no doubt. This meant she was either 
PMSing, and he knew it wasn't her time of the month- 
yes, he kept track of her monthly "visitor" for a number of 
reasons- or she was monumentally stressed out. It wasn't 
as if he'd wish for her to feel stressed, but maybe her 
feeling this way was a sign that she might actually regret 
her actions and that she was close to giving him an 
apology, and then things could go back to normal. He 
hoped she wasn't worried he wouldn't forgive her. 
Frankly, he already had. He just wanted her to 
acknowledge what she had done, he wanted her to speak 
to him warmly. God, he just wanted to see her smile at 
him again.

"Where the hell is my candy bar?" he heard her 
bark in an accusing tone, and he awoke from his reverie 

to see her staring at him with narrowed eyes.

Damn, she's hot when she's pissed, he thought 
fleetingly, before straightening up under her murderous 
glare. Regardless of how "hot" she looked right now, her 
anger was obviously directed at him. He visibly cringed 
under her scrutiny and asked, "Uh, what did you say?"

"I asked where my candy bar is," she hissed at 
him. "I know you know where I keep my stash and since 
this is your desk, in your office, who else would take it?"

"Um? A janitor?" he suggested feebly. "Skinner, 
maybe?"

"Bull shit! The drawers are all locked at night when 
the janitor comes and Skinner hasn't been down here in 
over a week! Besides, the candy bar was right here just this 
morning!" He saw her fingers clench at her sides, and 
wondered if he should fear for his physical safety.

Day-um, he thought, I got no way out of this... "Uh, 
well, which candy bar are you referring to, Scully?" he 
stalled further.

"Oh, cut the crap, Mulder! It's the Snickers! My 
Snickers! You always steal my Snickers!"

"Stop saying the word Snickers," he muttered. "I 
get it, okay? Your Snickers is gone, and yes, I took it and I 
ate the hell out of it! So, if you want it, then I'm gonna 
have to puke it up!"

His angry and flippant retort caused her blue eyes 
to smolder in rage. Murderous rage.

"Shit," he whispered quietly. He was now about to 
be murdered. He could sense it. So much for his quest. 
He'd never find Samantha. He would never get to the 
bottom of the government conspiracy. He would 
definitely never get to kiss his beloved partner- especially 
considering she would be the one murdering him. And he 
could forget about finding out where Elvis was living and 
hiding from the public eye. Goodbye world, it was nice 
knowing you, as cruel as you are. I'll miss you and some of the 
people who dwell within you, even the woman who is about to 
beat me to a bloody pulp with her bare hands...

To his great surprise, she did not scream, or 
demand he make restitution, or leap over the desk to 
pummel him. Instead, her eyes shot daggers at him, as she 
reached into the drawer and retrieved her purse and car 
keys. She spun on her high heel and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" he demanded to know, his 
body language cagey, his tone possessive. As much as he 
had been dreading her chewing him out over a damn 
candy bar, he preferred that to her walking out on him. 
He hated being apart from her. Usually when they were 
separated, something terrible happened to at least one of 
them. This business in Philadelphia proved that beyond a 
shadow of a doubt.

She didn't bother looking at him, kept walking 
towards the door. "I don't think that's any of your 
business!" she snapped.

He surprised them both when he bounded over to 
her in four giant steps, standing in between her and the 
door and lightly gripping her arm. "You're on the clock, 
Scully, and you're my partner," he told her in no 
uncertain terms. His tone was quiet, but it nevertheless 
commanded her compliance. "That makes it my 
business."

Scully's eyes flooded with tears, but her iron will 
made sure they did not escape. She wouldn't look at him 
as she jerked her arm out of his grip and said, "I'm going 
to lunch, Agent Mulder."

Mulder reached for her arm again, demanding 
physical contact between them. As angry as he was with 
her, he desperately needed her touch. She sidestepped his 
attempt and avoided his grasp, but only momentarily. 
"Whom are you going with?" he asked in that same quiet 
tone, this time reaching for her empty hand, catching her 
fingers. He squeezed them until they hurt, until he could 
see her wince.

"Now, that is none of your damn business," she 
spat, digging her long, well-manicured finger nails into 
the skin on the side of his hand until he winced and 
reflexively let go of her.

This time, it was Mulder who had tears in his eyes. 
He was saddened by the way this encounter between 
them had emerged, but it wasn't sadness that ruled his 
emotions now. It was anger. He was angrier than he could 
ever remember being at another human being while still 
loving them so much. He rubbed at his hand where she 
had stabbed him with her claws. Though he wasn't 
bleeding, she had broken the skin. Asking her to stay and 
talk would be fruitless, he knew. He could tell just by 
looking at her that she would be unwilling to do so. 
Considering the blood lust in her eyes, that he was sure 
matched his own, he realized it would be for the best to 
separate from each other, if only for a little while. They 
were both too feral right now to do much of anything, 
except hurt each other further. And that was the last thing 
he wanted to happen. 

He moved to the side, to allow her passage out the 
door. "Fine, Scully," he grunted at her, wanting to take 
her down one last time before she fled. "Gonna find some 
other worthless low-life to fuck and try to kill you over 
lunch?"

To say she was seething would have been the 
grossest understatement. "Maybe I am, Mulder," she 
replied, her face flushed in the desire to destroy. "Too bad 
you'll never know though, because this is my life!" And 
with that, she was out the door and racing to the elevator.

"Fuck you, Scully!" Mulder yelled after her, 
knowing that she could hear him. "Fuck me, too!" he 
shouted at himself a moment later. He picked up his 
basketball and threw it blindly with all his might, feeling 
the need to hurt... something. His wish came true and he 
heard a crash. He noticed that he had knocked off a 
plaque from the wall, an award given to he and Scully a 
year ago, recognizing their great team work and- more 
importantly to the Bureau- their excellent solve rate. It 
was lying on the floor, cracked in half. He leaned down to 
pick it up. Broken, he thought, just like my heart, just like... 
us.

A few tears slid down his face, and he wiped at 
them in irritation. He didn't want the sadness to take 
over; he wanted the anger and passion to dominate. 
"Why did she have to go screwing around?" he asked 
himself, referring not only to her nasty departure a 
moment ago, but also her foray into the forbidden in 
Philadelphia with that stupid Jerse. If she was that hard up, 
if she was so needy for release, why couldn't she have screwed 
me? Apparently, she was not very discriminating about who 
she let's inside of her. So, why not old Spooky? At least I know 
her... and love her... and I wouldn't have tried to kill her!

He threw the plaque roughly into the trashcan, as 
more tears fell. His thoughts only made him imagine Ed 
Jerse having sex with his partner, an idea that wanted to 
make him beat his own head in, till it ceased. He had seen 
Jerse's picture from the police file he had requested a copy 
of. The guy was an ugly, smug son of a bitch. Mulder 
again grabbed for the file, which he had hidden in one of 
the desk drawers, away from the prying eyes of his 
partner. He hadn't wanted her to know that he had it. He 
looked at the asshole's picture again, into his soulless 
eyes. That face haunted him, made him feel nauseous. 

He turned to another page in the file, eager to stop 
staring at the man who had almost killed the woman he 
loved. On the new page was a photograph of Jerse's 
tattoo. Fuckin' ugly thing, thought to himself. Just like you, 
asshole! Even staring at the man's tattoo was too much for 
Mulder, so he turned to the next page.

He gasped! This one had a picture of Scully's 
tattoo. He had not seen it, not a picture of it, until now, 
and he was certain that he'd never get to see it in person, 
so he hadn't bothered to ask her to show it to him. He 
took a good, long look at the picture. Not only had her 
choice surprised him, but also so had its beauty and 
simplicity. 

Mulder could see from the picture the location of 
her tattoo, as well as the expanse of her soft, creamy skin 

on her lower back. This was his spot. This was the place 
he had claimed as his own since they had first met. Why 
had she chosen to put the tattoo there? What was her 
reasoning over this? Did she mean to claim the spot back 
from him? Was she trying to say that it was never his to 
begin with? Or perhaps, she hadn't even thought about it 
at all, that there was no significance to her choice, because 
she didn't even think of him enough to consider it to be 
his spot? None of those possibilities seemed promising to 
him.

He reached out to touch the picture, wishing it 
truly were her skin. He immediately grew hard at the 
notion. "Oh, God, Scully!" he groaned, unable to stop 
himself.

It was easy to imagine how soft her skin would be 

to the touch, how good it would feel under his fingers, his 
tongue. He could see himself slowly tracing the outline of 
the tattoo on her lower back with his talented tongue, 

tasting her salty-sweet skin, making her shiver with 
desire until she begged him to put that tongue in another 
tasty spot and...

Suddenly, the erotic image of him pleasuring his 
partner was replaced, again, with the sickening vision of 
Ed Jerse fucking Scully senseless in some dingy 
apartment, with nothing but animal lust in his eyes. He'd 
be gripping her firmly, just over that tattoo, over Mulder's 
claim, pressing urgent, hurtful fingers into her soft flesh, 
making her cry out in pain. He was hurting her, 
devouring her, claiming her...

Mulder felt sick. He rushed to the bathroom just 
down the hall, barely making it before vomiting into the 
toilet, puking up the Snickers bar he'd pissed off Scully 
about for eating. After finishing the unpleasantness, he 
cleaned himself up at the small sink and looked into the 
mirror above it. He looked pale, and ill and... scared out 
of his mind.

Scully, please don't hurt me, he pleaded as he stared 
at his pitiful reflection. I can love you better than Jerse... or 
anyone! Dammit, I worship you! Why can't you see that?

He splashed some water on his face, then patted it 
dry with a paper towel. Taking a couple of deep breaths, 
he forced himself back to the office. He had some things 
to do before Scully got back.

*    *    *

Scully returned to the basement hours later, 
embarrassed by her earlier behavior and feeling hesitant 
on how to approach her partner, look him in the eye 
again. She honestly didn't know what she was going to 
say to Mulder, or how she would be received. He had 
acted horribly towards her, of course, but she had given 
as much, if not more, right back. She usually rose above 
such childish practices, but not this time. She led him on 
about what had actually happened between she and Jerse, 
which, while honestly was none of his business, she did 
not like the idea that her partner might be thinking her a 
person of loose morals. Even after the way he had treated 
her, she still did not want her partner to think that way, 
especially in light of the fact that nothing really had 
happened between she and that disturbed man, save for 
one, passionate kiss. 

But the worst part of her fight with Mulder had 
been the fact that they had also physically hurt each other! 
Her cheeks colored in shame over the recollection, even as 
her fingers continued to throb from his tight squeeze, and 
she wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't drawn blood on 
his hand, when she'd dug her fingernails into it. They 
were two, grown adults- that loved and respected each 
other, mind you- and they had committed violent acts 
upon the other. The thought was appalling, and she could 
only think of how ashamed her mom would be if she 
found this out... how ashamed Ahab must be about it, 
watching her from heaven.

She bit her lip in grim anticipation as she 
meandered slowly down the hallway. Things were not 
going well today, not on any front. She had spent her 
lunch hour alone, running errands. She had to pay an 
over due bill to the electric company, after her payment 
had been lost in the mail. Thank you, post office! Ugh! Then 
she had gone to the bank to cancel her original check 
payment, so that if anyone found that lost check and 
shouldn't have it, would not be able to cash it. And lastly, 
she'd stopped by her doctor's office to make an 
appointment for next week. She had been having an 
awful lot of nosebleeds lately. After her strange encounter 
with Leonard Betts two weeks before, she thought it best 
to play it safe and get a check-up. It had been awhile.

Well, this is it, she thought, reaching the office door, 
having reached the end of the corridor, even going as 
slowly as she had. Time to suck it up and apologize for acting 
like an asinine... and try to pretend that none of this crap ever 
happened... That would be for the best. Yes, just forgetting 
about it. Avoidance is the only way I'll ever be able to look into 
his beautiful eyes again...

Slowly turning the knob, Scully opened the door 
and stepped gingerly inside. "Uh, hey, Mulder, I really 
wanted to apologize for..." her voice trailed off in mid-
sentence, realizing that her partner was not in the office.

Confused, she spied the desk across the room, the 
focal point of her dissatisfaction as of late. It was a lot 
tidier than when she had left for lunch over two hours 
ago. She also noticed that one side of it- the side she 
always sat at- now sported some neatly stacked medical 
journals. Her date planner was setting a top of the 
journals as was a Styrofoam cup, half-filled with water 
and holding three pink flowers that looked suspiciously 
like the ones that grew in some planters just outside of the 
Hoover building.

She glanced up once to catch the one accolade that 
she and Mulder had earned since working on the X-Files 
together setting on top of a filing cabinet. It was their 
plaque, acknowledging their successful partnership and 
solve rate. It had been broken, but glued back together. It 
had a couple of large rubber bands around it, and a heavy 
phone book sitting upon it, to keep it pressed firmly 
together while the glue dried. Another feeling of shame 
bubbled up within her, giving her a bad taste in her 
mouth. Had she upset Mulder so badly that he had 
broken their plaque?

Sitting down in her chair at the desk, she got a 
closer look at her date planner and saw that a post-it note 
was attached to the front of it. It read: Check your drawers! 
in Mulder's nearly illegible scrawl. Unsure of what he 
meant by this, Scully suddenly remembered their earlier 
argument and went to her drawer and opened it up. She 

found her stuff all neatly arranged and her "secret candy 
stash" had been replenished with about ten Snickers bars. 
Or rather, ten half-bars. She noticed that all of the candy 
bars had been cut in half.

"Huh?" she asked aloud. Then she spied another 
note and retrieved it with her sore hand, flinching 
slightly. 

This one read: 

I'm sorry, Scully, I truly am. I acted like an 
asshole. From now on it's 50/50 all the way, okay, 
because partners should share EVERYTHING! 
So, half of this desk and half of its drawers are 
yours. Put whatever you want in them! 

M. 

P.S. I took a late lunch, then need to swing by 
Quantico to pick up something I'm researching. Won't 
be back today. See you tomorrow.

Scully put both notes into her purse, for 
safekeeping. Mulder didn't know it, but she'd kept any 
personal note or card he had ever given her. Then she sat 
down in Mulder's chair behind the desk and inspected all 
of the empty drawers he had cleaned out for her. She 
pondered over his absence and his announcement that he 
would not be returning to the office until tomorrow. This 
most likely meant that he had been too ashamed to even 
face her again for the rest of the day, just as she had been, 
although she had come back. This information did 
nothing but depress her more.

Taking a deep breath, Scully began to cry...


Scene nine: "Honey, You're Home!" 
[Rated PG]

November 1997
Georgetown, Dana Scully Residence
6:22 p.m.

The door opened with a loud flourish and the two 
of them stood together, staring into the apartment.

"Honey, you're home!" Mulder announced, 
sounding silly and giddy and full of unabashed joy.

Scully chuckled, then gave his arm a quick pat. 
"Not so loud, Mulder. The neighbors will hear you."

"Like I care?" he kidded her. He put his arm 
around his lovely partner, who, while still thin and pale, 
was the most beautiful woman in the world to his eyes. 
"So, should I carry you over the threshold?" he asked, 
scooping her up into his arms, while they still stood in the 
hallway, before she had a chance to protest.

"Mulder, put me down!" she demanded in 
embarrassment, even though the area remained empty 
save for the two of them. "And we didn't just get married. 
I was released from the hospital."

"Well, it's still something momentous to celebrate," 
he told her, kissing her cheek.

She warmed at the contact, quickly becoming 
accustomed to his kisses, which he had been doling out 
quite freely since she had been admitted to the hospital. 
"That's true, Mulder, but put me down, anyway. With my 
luck, you'll knock my head against the door frame and I'll 
end up having to go right back to the hospital with a 
concussion or something."

Mulder set her down, even as he chuckled, 
"Pessimist! Come on, Scully!" He grabbed her hand and 
led her inside, then he shut the door behind them.

Scully found herself standing in the middle of her 
living room, and glanced around, savoring the very sight 
of it. Home. She was home! That was something most 
people took for granted. But considering she almost 
hadn't made it home, having nearly died in that hospital 
three weeks earlier... Just standing in her living room, 
staring at her furniture, the artwork on the walls, the 
computer on her desk and... and... her handsome partner 
gazing lovingly at her from the entryway to the kitchen 
area... Scully closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the 
simple pleasure of coming home. After what she had been 
through, she hoped to never take it for granted again.

She sensed movement and opened her eyes to see 
her very concerned partner hovering around her, his 
hand on her shoulder, his eyes searching her face. "Scully, 
are you all right?"

Reaching up to caress his hand, she smiled at him 
and replied, "Yes, Mulder. I'm great! I... it's really good 
to be home. I missed it."

"Yeah, well, home missed you, too, I'll bet," he told 
her, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Who else cleans 
it as anally as you do?"

"Shut up, Mulder," she chuckled.

"Later, but for now, I'm going to order us some 
delicious, hot, delivered-to-our-door food. What's your 
pleasure, Miss Scully?" He produced five different take-
out menus from his coat pocket and handed them to her.

"Ooh, I get to pick?" she asked, perusing over her 
choices: Italian, Chinese, Mexican, Thai and a deli. All of 
them were favorites they had often frequented together or 
ordered for those long nights of finishing reports while 
hanging at her place. That would be something else she 
would look forward to doing again soon.

"It's all about you, Scully," he assured her, urging 
her to choose.

"I think I'll go for Chinese tonight," she decided, 
handing him back all the take-out menus.

"Excellent," he agreed. "Your usual, Scully?"

She had been on the verge of throwing caution to 
the wind and trying something she had never tried on the 
menu before, as if to celebrate this new lease on life, but 
there was also something comforting and just plain 
wonderful about ordering her usual. The fact that she was 
actually alive to order her usual gave her such a 
sentimental feeling and a whole new appreciation for her 
attentive partner.

"Sounds great, Mulder."

"You got it!" he exclaimed, still feeling as giddy 
and happy as he sounded. He leaned forward to kiss her 
again, this time on her nose. Then he went to grab her 
phone to call in their orders.

Thankfully, in his haste to get their food on the 
way, he had missed the blush appearing on her pretty 
face after such an intimate act. She wasn't used to friends- 
or even most family members, save for her parents, and 
not since she was a child, really- kissing her on the nose. It 
had been a sweet gesture on his part, and it made her 
smile in spite of herself. She was coming to fully realize 
just how much she adored her partner, how much she 

loved him- not only as a friend, but as a potential lover. 
She had always loved him, ever since the beginning, but 
she would never allow herself to see just how deep the 
feelings for him went, how much he had become a part of 
her and that she never wanted to be away from him 
again. She would admit to finding him attractive, would 
admit that she "loved" him, but she couldn't admit that 
she was honestly in love with him... well, not until barely 
surviving cancer. It had been as though a switch had been 
turned on, and suddenly, she came to see that there was 
no one else in the world she wanted to be with more than 
he.

Of course, she also realistically came to the 
conclusion that Mulder was nowhere near ready for a 
romantic relationship. She wasn't even sure that he would 
desire one, with her, or anyone else. But she did know 
that he loved her. Perhaps it was only as a friend. Sure, he 
had flirted with and teased her all through their history 
together thus far, they had tossed innuendoes at each 
other like teammates might toss a football between them, 
but she still couldn't say for sure if his love for her went 
beyond platonic. She used to believe that Mulder thought 
of her as something of a substitute for his sister, 
Samantha. Now, she knew that he loved her on her own 
merits, and cherished her even more than most would 
cherish a best friend. But, if he truly looked at her as a 
potential mate, or life-partner, she just couldn't say for 
sure. So for now, her uncovered amorous feelings for the 
man would have to remain unspoken. She would not risk 
their professional partnership or their deeply intimate 
friendship over it. She couldn't. She needed him in her 
life, and if these were the only things he could offer her at 
this time, then she would take it.

As she listened to Mulder's soothing monotone 
while he ordered their food over the phone, Scully 
walked the perimeter of the living room, checking out her 
place with a scrutiny she'd never done before. As far as 
she could tell, everything had remained exactly as she 
had left it. Except for one thing...

"Mulder," Scully called after he hung up the 
telephone, "what is that?" and she pointed to the device 
currently setting a top of her television.

He approached, and guided her over to the sofa, 
where he sat down upon it, and with a gentle hand, he 
tugged on her arm until she sat down beside him. He 
wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "That?" he 
asked, indicating the mysterious item in question and she 
nodded. "That's a Sony Playstation, Scully."

"Oh, yes, of course, a Sony Playstation. Mulder?"

"Yeah?" he asked knowingly.

"What the hell is a Sony Playstation and what is it 
doing in my house?"

Mulder chuckled, his hand rubbing her arm in a 
soothing manner. "It's a game system, Scully. You know? 
Video games?"

"Video games?" she asked incredulously. "You 
mean like Pac-Man and Centipede?"

"Yeah, and like Pong!" he snorted. "Sure, Scully, 
that's exactly what I mean... maybe a decade and a half 
ago! You're so far behind the times, I swear!"

At this, she scoffed. "I'm behind the times? So, I 
take it that means you're not?" The familiar raised 
eyebrow was in place, one of his favorite looks from her, 
and one he had missed terribly.

"Oh, I'm on the cutting edge," he assured her. "I've 
got all the know-how on the latest technology!"

"Really?"

"But, of course." He grinned at her and she 
returned the gesture.

"The Gunmen?" she asked knowingly.

"Yeah," he laughed. "Langly, in particular. He's 
the one who set it up for us. I thought after dinner, I could 
show you how to play."

"Mulder..."

"What? It'll be a fun way for us to pass the time 
while you get your strength back. I'm not saying that we 
have to play it constantly, but maybe once in awhile, as 
you take it easy. Remember, your doctor said to rest up a 
lot for the first couple of weeks."

She rolled her eyes at him. Since when did he listen 
to anything a doctor had to say- including her, most of the 
time! "I'm well aware of what he said, Mulder. I was 
there, if you recall."

He leered at her. "Oh, was that you? That hot 
redhead in the bed with the sexy, tousled hair and the 
half-lidded, bedroom eyes?"

Scully laughed, such a remarkable sound. It wasn't 
lost on him that things could have gone much differently 
and that he might not have ever heard that sound again.

"You're so full of it, Mulder," she teased.

He leaned forward, kissing her cheek- or rather, 
the corner of her mouth. "Have I told you how relieved... 
how happy I... Scully, I don't know what I would have 
done if..." he stammered, unable to complete the thought 
out loud. Tears threatened to spill from his beautiful hazel 
eyes.

"I understand, Mulder," she said, and they fell into 
each other's embrace. "I feel the same way, not only to be 
alive, but to be able to spend more time with my loved 
ones... my mom, my brothers... my best friend..." and she 
gazed pointedly at him.

"Yeah, I'm grateful for the chance of getting to 
spend another day with my best friend, too, that's for 
sure," he agreed, holding her closely to him. He could feel 
how thin she was, pressed against his frame. Though 
given a clean bill of health, she still had a sickly pallor to 
her skin. He hoped to remedy all of that as soon as 
possible with his own brand of tender loving care.

There was a knock at the door, and Mulder 
reluctantly disengaged himself from her embrace to 
answer it and pay for their food. Then he set everything 
up at the dining room table and they sat down to eat.

During the meal, Scully couldn't help but notice 
that Mulder was watching her eat, looking very hopeful 
and a little anxious about it. She also noticed that he had 
ordered her a larger portion than she could have finished, 
even if her appetite had been fully restored. She knew 
that she had lost a fair amount of weight during her 
illness. And apparently, her partner had noticed this as 
well. He wanted her to be healthy, really healthy again. 
Trying to fatten me up, Mulder? she thought with an 
affectionate smile.

"So," Mulder mentioned after slurping up a noodle 
from his chopsticks, "did you want me to sleep on the 
couch or in your guest room while I'm here?"

"Oh, Mulder," she said, still smiling, "I heard my 
mom talking to you earlier. Don't worry. I won't make 
you stay and baby-sit me. I'm perfectly capable of looking 
after myself."

"Scully," he informed her, "I made a promise to 
your mother that I'd stay with you for at least the first few 
days after you got out of the hospital."

"I know," she sympathized. "She cornered you, I 
saw her, and I understand. My mom... she always 
worries too much. It's unwarranted, of course- I mean, 
I'm fine now- but she's my mother and I guess she still 
considers it her job to make sure I'm okay."

"She knew you wouldn't agree to stay with her, 
this time," Mulder explained. "It's because you're too 
damn stubborn!" he said with emphasis. "I suppose she 
thought that I would be a little bit less of a pain-in-the-ass 
to you, if I looked after you. Little does she know..." He 
winked at her.

Scully chuckled. "I'll say. But seriously, Mulder, I 
won't hold you to it. You've already done so much for me 
already today. You can go home and get some-"

"Scully," he interrupted her in a quiet, serious tone 
that said he meant business, "I am not going to back out of 
a promise I made to your mom."

"But, Mulder..."

"I mean it, Scully. Hell, I'm not going to incur the 
wrath of Margaret Scully. It's the only wrath I fear more 
than yours!"

She groaned at his lame attempt at humor. "Funny, 
Mulder, funny. Okay, fine. You can stay... for tonight, 
anyway. I don't have the guestroom ready though. You'll 
have to sleep out here on the couch." She had said it as if 
sleeping on her sofa would deter him staying. Did she not 
remember where he slept every night at his own place?

Mulder reached out, grasping her hand in his. He 
wasn't going to give in to her stubborn ways, not this 
time. "Scully, for you I'd sleep outside in a rain storm, so 
the couch actually sounds pretty nice."

The blush showed up even more prominently than 
usual, on account of her face was still so pale. Scully 
averted her eyes. "Well, I guess... I need to clean up the 
dinner mess. Get the left overs in the fridge."

"You didn't eat much," he observed, sounding a 
trifle worried. He was still holding her hand. He gave it a 
squeeze.

"Mulder, I'm fine," she started to say, but forced 
herself to stop before she could complete the words, 
watching her partner visibly cringe from her overused 
catchphrase. She knew she had used it far too often 
during her illness, to ward off his concerns, to shut him 
out and push him- as well as everyone else- away. 
Offering him an apologetic smile, she reiterated, "I'm all 
right, Mulder, honest. I'm still getting my appetite back. 
It'll take some time, but it will happen, I promise." She 
smiled and gave his hand a squeeze back.

He lifted that hand of hers to his mouth for a kiss. 
But he surprised her though, when he did not press his 
lips to the back of her hand, but turned it over and kissed 
her on the wrist instead, right over her pulse point. The 
act sent her heart racing in arousal. He should have felt 
the increase against his lips, but if he noticed it, he made 
no mention of it. He then gently set her hand down upon 
the table and stood up, cleaning up the remaining food.

Carrying all of the Chinese take-out boxes into the 
kitchen, he asked, "Scully, where do you keep those 
plastic Tupperware thingies?"

She followed him into the kitchen, wearing a smirk 
at his question and carrying in their dinner plates. "Here, 
I'll get it, Mulder. I know where my... thingies are."

His eyes smoldered over her innuendo and she 
was taken aback. "I'm well aware of where your thingies 
are, Scully. I'm just looking for the Tupperware. Oh, and 
no," he added, grabbing the plates from her, and swatting 
at her with a dishtowel. "Go sit your cute ass down and 
let me do the work. I'm here to help and that includes 
clean up duty."

"Mulder," she said shyly, still a little embarrassed 
over his latest flirtatious remark. "I really don't think it'll 
hurt me to clean up the kitchen."

"Wrath of Margaret Scully, remember?" he 
reminded her. "You're to do nothing for at least a week. I 
will clean up. You just sit and relax and prepare for total 
annihilation for when I kick your ass on the Playstation. 
And no, we won't be playing Pac-Man!" He snickered at 
her as he opened up a cupboard and found the leftover 
containers he had been looking for. "Eureka!" he 
exclaimed in triumph.

"Total annihilation, huh?" she snorted. "Yeah, 
right, Mulder."

After he got all the leftovers put away and loaded 
the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, he turned on the 
Playstation and put in the fighting game, Soul Caliber. 
Sitting so close to her on the couch, they were physically 
touching, Mulder then explained to Scully how the game 
was played and how to work the controller. Then she 
spent the next two hours kicking his ass.

Despite his best efforts not to, Mulder was getting 
frustrated. He grumbled under his breath, wondering 
how Scully, who'd never even picked up a Playstation 
controller until tonight- had never even heard of a Sony 
Playstation before- could beat him, game after game. 
Especially after he had spent an hour the night before 
getting instructions and pointers from the guys. He had 
been hoping to impress his partner with his manly 
gaming skills. Instead, a woman who claimed video 
games were an infantile waste of time was humiliating 
him. 

"Wow, Mulder," Scully said, after demolishing 
him for the tenth round in a row, "you're right, this is fun! 
Total annihilation, indeed! Too bad it was your ass you 
were referring to, eh?" She feigned an innocent 
expression.

"Bite me, Scully," he snapped.

She shook her head, in mock disapproval over his 
"sore loser" attitude. "Tsk, tsk, Mulder. And what would 
you do if I did bite you?" She laughed. "You'd probably 
pass out from the pain."

"No, I think I'd be incredibly turned on," he 
admitted, running one of his long fingers up her spine, 
causing her to involuntarily shiver.

"Mulder," she chuckled nervously. "Um, perhaps 
we should call it a night, anyway. I'm... I'm getting pretty 
tired."

He could have kicked himself for not anticipating 
this. She probably should have been put to bed an hour 
ago. But he didn't dwell on the guilt. He wouldn't spoil 
their good mood with his own demons. "Well, don't you 
worry about a thing, Scully," he joked instead. "Nurse 
Mulder is at your service. I'll go turn down your bed, then 
I'll gladly help you change into your jammies." He winked 
at her, and was rewarded with yet another sexy blush 
upon her face.

"Nurse Mulder?" she repeated incredulously.

"Yes, Dr. Scully? Are you ready for me to assist 
you?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Again she laughed, just as she blushed again, too. 
"I honestly think I can manage getting my pajamas on all 
by myself, Mulder, thank you."

He nodded, with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "I 
see, Dr. Scully. So, you'll just need my expert assistance in 
getting your current clothing taken off, then, right?"

"You know, Nurse Mulder, I believe I can handle 
that by myself as well."

"Well, how about a sponge bath, Doc?" he went 
on, staring at her with sexy bedroom eyes. "It's one of my 
specialties, you see."

Just when she thought she couldn't blush any 
brighter... "Oh, I'm sure it is, but I'm a little too worn out 
for a sponge bath this evening."

"Party pooper," he pouted, jutting out his divine 
lower lip. He patted her knee. "All right, Dr. Scully, I'll 
get your bed turned down. Why don't you go change 
then, since you refuse my qualified assistance."

"I will, thanks."

He stood, then gently pulled her up without being 
asked to. They ventured down the hallway together and 
parted ways when she stopped at the bathroom.

"Oh, Scully..."

"Yes?"

"Maybe later we can play 'doctor'?"

"You wish," she scoffed playfully.

"Yes, I do," he agreed. "Or, how about 'naughty 
nurse', then?" He held up his hands in front of her. "I've 
got the magic touch."

"As tempting as that sounds, Mulder," she made a 
show of yawning, "I'm simply too tired for that yet. 
Perhaps another night."

"I'm gonna hold you to that someday, you know," 
he told her in all seriousness.

"I'm sure you will," she replied, offering her own 
wicked twinkle, then she went into the bathroom and 
shut the door, as Mulder traipsed off to her bedroom, 
trying to tamp down his arousal, which had just 
skyrocketed. 

Inside the bathroom, Scully easily slid into her 
normal, nightly routine. She washed her face, thoroughly 
but gently with a mild exfoliating soap, before rubbing on 
some Oil of Olay nighttime cream. Then she brushed and 
flossed her teeth. Afterwards, she ran her brush through 
her hair. She noticed that it was starting to come in a little 
thicker since her latest radiation treatment. She relieved 
herself and washed her hands, all the while, marveling at 
how blessed she was to be doing these simple things.

Wiping away a few grateful tears, Scully exited the 
bathroom, and looked for Mulder, to let him know that he 
was free to get ready for bed himself now. She looked for 
him, and found him still in her bedroom, staring 
thoughtfully at the bed he had just turned down the 
covers down on for her.

"Hey," she said, coming to stand beside him.

"Hey, yourself," he replied, wrapping his arm 
around shoulder. "All ready for bed now?"

"Yep. The bathroom is all yours."

"Thanks..."

They remained silent for awhile, standing in place, 
not moving.

"Mulder...?"

That's when he lost it.

His tears took her by surprise and hit them both 
full force. She realized he had been holding this back 
probably the whole evening, and when she thought about 
it, so had she. Because, before she knew it, she started 
crying, too, and they were holding each other tightly, 
sniffling into the shoulder of their best friend. Everything 
else just melted away for a moment. Gone were the 
problems they still faced, gone was the outside world. All 
that existed for them in that moment, all that mattered 
was Mulder and Scully, and the feelings ebbing between 
them and longing for some sort of release. Their arms 
were wrapped around each other and their tears melded 
together against their faces, and their laughter 
complimented the crying, and soon they engaged in some 
rather passionate forehead kisses. 

They weren't mourning what could have happened; 
they were celebrating what had happened. Life! Scully- 
and therefore, Mulder- had prevailed, triumphant, living 
to fight the good fight for another day!

"I was so scared, Scully," he admitted, whispering 
into her hair, breathing in her scent, kissing the soft 
tresses.

"I know," she replied, her face pressed against his 
strong chest, guilty of breathing him in and kissing on 
him as well. "I was, too."

Several minutes later, after Mulder had kissed her 
cheeks, her forehead, and yes, her nose again, too, he 
begrudgingly allowed her to pull out of his tight, 
protective embrace and crawl into bed. He even pulled up 
the covers for her, effectively tucking her in. And after 
caressing her soft, pale cheek with his fingers, he said 
good night and ventured down the hallway, back to 
where the sofa awaited him in the living room. 

*    *    *

Scully slept fitfully that night, probably for the first 
time in months. She dreamt only of good things, like her 
family, her crazy, but never boring job, Fr. McCue and her 
church congregation, her partner... When her dreams 
turned to Mulder, she felt especially happy and safe. An 
angelic smile appeared on her beautiful face.

Mulder stood at her bedside, watching her sleep, 
tears of joy flooding his hazel eyes as he looked upon her 
serene features. God, she's so damn breathtaking! he 
thought, barely resisting his urge to touch her on her face 
or take her hand in his. He didn't want to risk waking her. 
He knew she needed her rest to build up her strength.

"I love you, Scully," he whispered into the 
darkened room, before returning to the living room.

And contrary to Scully's earlier proclamation, 
Mulder ended up staying there with her not for the night, 
but for a week and a half. They would eat together, watch 
television and every night she would kick his ass on the 
Sony Playstation. Life was good!



Scene ten: "Rusty, Ripley & Jack" 
[Rated PG]

March 1998
Someplace on "M" Street
Saturday, 12:42 p.m.

"This is the place, Scully!" Mulder exclaimed with 
a little too much exuberance for a Saturday afternoon. He 
held the door open for her, then led her in, his hand at the 
small of her back.

"Thanks," she said, glancing around. "Wow..."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Told you this place was great, 
didn't I?"

Scully fought the urge to whistle at the store's 
decor. It certainly overwhelmed the senses. The store 
itself was small and as dark and musty as their basement 
office usually was. The walls were also full of strange 
UFO and science fiction memorabilia. She figured this 
had to be why Mulder loved it so much; whoever set up 
this place seemed to have the same decorating sense as 
her partner. "Um, yeah," she murmured, glancing over at 
him, noticing his childlike excitement at just being there, 
and smirking at him. "This place is definitely right up 
your alley."

"What exactly are you insinuating, Scully?" he 
asked teasingly.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all..."

They grinned at each other, and he put his arm 
around her shoulder, anxious to show her around 
through the store. "Come on," he said, "there's someone 
you've just got to meet!"

There was a man sitting on a barstool behind the 
counter next to the cash register. He almost appeared to 
be guarding it, taking in his demeanor. Scully wondered 
if the guy had a gun next to him, or the ever-popular 
baseball bat. (She would have been delighted to know 
that it was indeed, a baseball bat.) The man in question, 
who actually owned the business, looked like someone 
that had stepped right out of a 1970's Grateful Dead 
concert, complete with vintage Grateful Dead, tie-dyed tee 
shirt. He had long, stringy, gray hair and an equally long 
and gray beard. As they got closer, Scully was sure she 
could smell the lightest hint of marijuana...

The man, who had been reading a copy of The 
Lone Gunmen's publication- Why am I not surprised? 
Scully thought with a groan- looked up at their approach. 
He noticed Mulder, and his gruff, hairy face split with a 
wide grin. "Hey, Mulder!" he called with a friendly wave 
as they made their way to the counter. "Long time, no see. 
What's up, dude?"

"He knows you by name," Scully snickered under 
her breath, so that only Mulder could hear.

"Yeah? What of it?" he retorted, equally quiet.

"Oh, nothing," she repeated, adding, "dude."

Had he been bolder, Mulder surely would have 
pinched her on the bum. Instead, he glanced at her 
quickly, then stuck out his tongue at her, before returning 
his attention to the aging hippie whom had just so 
warmly greeted him. "Hey, Rusty!" he said, reaching out 
to shake the man's hand. "I'm doing great! What's up 
with you, my man? How's business going?"

"It's going," the hippie laughed, and Mulder 
responded in kind. Scully, feeling a little weird being in 
this store, not to mention the situation, only offered a 
tight smile. "Business isn't booming, but I'm surviving, 
you know?"

"Of course, Rusty," Mulder complimented. "You're 
a survivor! And you know, next year with the new Star 
Wars movie coming out, you'll probably be up to your ass 
in customers. Just enjoy this lull while you can."

"Heh, don't I know it," Rusty agreed. "Old George 
had better not fuck it all up, though."

Mulder grimaced. "Only time will tell."

"George... as in... Lucas?" Scully asked.

Rusty looked at Scully, seemingly noticing her for 
the first time, despite the fact that she was standing smack 
dab next to Mulder and his arm was traipsed protectively 
around her shoulder. His eyes grew wide, then narrowed 
with a lusty appreciation. "Damn, Mulder, is this your 
partner? Scully?" the hippie inquired. He seemed pleased 
and mildly surprised by her appearance in his store and 
by her appearance at all. Scully gave Mulder a curious 
look.

"Yep," Mulder confirmed, giving his partner's 
shoulder a squeeze and gazing down proudly at her. His 
adoring look gave her a start. "This is my Scully- eh, I 
mean, this is my partner, Dana Scully." He quickly averted 
his eyes from her. "Scully, this is Rusty Banner. He owns 
this wonderful establishment."

"Very nice to meet you," Rusty said, offering her 
his own grubby hand, which she shook. 

"Nice to meet you, Rusty," she replied, smiling 
politely.

She noticed that Rusty continued to stare at her, his 
disbelief tempered only by his admiration. Although his 
adoring look seemed a bit more... creepy to her than 
Mulder's did.

"Day-um, Mulder," she heard Rusty say. "You 
weren't kidding about her, were you?"

Mulder smiled, his chest puffing out in manly 
pride. "Told ya." Scully fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Told him what, Mulder?" Scully asked pointedly, 
staring at her partner with her trademarked raised 
eyebrow.

The business phone rang, and Rusty hurried to 
answer it, gratefully taking the opportunity to escape the 
awkward situation he had unwittingly created.

Steering her towards the shelf containing hard-to-
find Star Wars collectibles, Mulder picked up a Princess 
Leia coffee mug and presented it to Scully. "This is great!" 
he announced, doing his best to ignore the expression on 
his partner's face that he knew all too well. "You don't 
have one, do you? I'm going to buy it for you."

"Mulder?"

"Yes, Scully?"

"Told him what?" she repeated.

He sighed. The woman was relentless! It was a trait 
of hers he had always admired... unless she was 
concentrating that relentlessness on him, of course. "Uh, 
what do you mean?" he asked innocently, obviously 
stalling.

"Mulder, the man recognized me by sight without 
ever having met me, or being properly introduced."

"Oh, well, I've been coming to this shop for years," 
Mulder explained, "and Rusty and I sort of developed a 
rapport..."

"And...?"

"And... I might have mentioned you a few times 
over the years."

"Like what?" she demanded to know, her arms 
folding over her chest.

"Like... how smart you are!" he replied brightly.

"Uh-huh..."

"And that you're my best friend," he added 
hopefully.

"Yeah..." Her eyebrow rose high upon her 
forehead again. She would not be placated.

Sighing in defeat, Mulder groaned. "All right, all 
right. I might have also mentioned that you're a redhead... 
and that you're... hot..." His voice was barely a whisper 
when he'd finished. He averted his eyes, almost afraid of 
the disapproving glare he was sure he'd find, as well as 
the reprimand. To his surprise, she said nothing more 
about it. When he dared a glance at her, she didn't look 
angry at all, although she was sporting a rather deep 
blush that pleased him to no end. More than that though, 
he was just relieved that she hadn't been angry with him.

"Where are the posters?" she asked, keen on 
changing the subject.

Cradling the Princess Leia mug in the crook of one 
arm, he put his free hand on his usual place at the small of 
her back and led her past the Star Trek costumes, the alien 
bobbleheads and rushed her past the sci-fi porn section.

"Sci-fi porn?" she had murmured in disbelief. If 
there ever was a movie genre for Mulder, that had to be it.

"Uh, trust me, Scully, you don't really want to 
know..."

"I'm sure I'd have to agree with you for once."

He smirked at her, then brought her over to the 
poster display. He tried to bypass the posters of half-
naked women wearing bits and pieces of astronaut garb. 
He hurried through the countless images of sci-fi cuties in 
various skimpy costumes, like Barbarella, or Princess Leia 
in her slave girl outfit. 

He skimmed through all the other science fiction 
movie posters, but was surprised that Scully halted his 
hand for a moment, when they came across an Ellen 
Ripley poster, a flame thrower in hand, from the movie 
Aliens. Scully gave it a good, long look, admiration 
sweeping over her features, before allowing him to 
continue.

This made Mulder smile in surprise and affection 
for her. Oh, do we have a hero, Scully? He got through all 
the Star Wars and Star Trek posters quickly and soon 
found the "real" UFO posters, including the famous I 
Want to Believe poster that had become his philosophy. 
"Ah, here we are." 

"Great. Grab one, Mulder." 

"Well, wouldn't you rather get him this one 
instead?" he teased, turning back the plastic casings and 
presenting her with a Child's Play poster, sporting the 
maniacal killing doll, Chucky.

Scully laughed, music to his ears. "Jesus, Mulder. I 
said I wanted to amuse the guy, not scare the shit out of 
him!"

"Why not do both?" Mulder suggested with a 
wicked gleam in his eye.

"That's all right, Mulder," she replied. "I think that 
Jack has already had his fill of scares from evil, murdering 
dolls."

"Oh, yeah, I suppose so," he sighed softly. 

He started chewing on his lower lip, something he 
often did when being thoughtful... or while brooding. 
The reason why they were here in the store, the whole 
purpose for their entire trip had been one of worry and 
dismay for him. They had made a day of it, on a rare 
Saturday when they'd had nothing else to do. Mulder had 
agreed to be her guide on this outing through M Street, 
sight seeing and taking in the atmosphere. He had treated 
her to lunch at the underrated bistro on the corner. And 
he had offered to take her to the store that sold the I Want 
to Believe posters. It had been a perfect day of fun, except 
for one, niggling fact. Scully wanted to purchase the 
poster for some guy she had helped out on a case she had 
stumbled upon during her recent mini-vacation to Maine.

Mulder hated the idea of Scully buying any man a 
gift, other than her brothers or nephew, or himself, of 
course. He also hated that she kept referring to this 
asshole as Jack, instead of his last name and rank. And 
what made it worse was the way she said his name, with a 
certain, flirty inflection to it. It was subtle, to be sure, 
especially for anyone else to detect, but Mulder could 
detect it just fine and it made him grit his teeth. Her voice 
always sounded so sensual to him, anyway, but she 
seemed to drive it home with the name Jack on her lips.

If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn 
that Scully was trying to make him jealous. But 
considering he didn't think Scully was actually in love 
with him, he figured there should be no reason for her to 
do so. And if that were the case, then maybe she actually 
did have some feelings for this bozo, and that thought 
only depressed him.

What Mulder hadn't realized was that Scully's 
very reason for taking that ill-fated trip to Maine a couple 
weeks back in the first place was to figure out a way to 
come to terms with her own escalating feelings of 
unrequited love for him. She needed to discern over what 
she perceived his feelings for her might be. He didn't 
know that she secretly loved him in the exact same way 
that he secretly loved her. He didn't know that, while she 
thought this "Jack" fellow to be a decent man, he didn't 
mean anything to her aside from a friendly, casual 
acquaintance she would very likely never see again- nor 
did she have any inclination to do so. And he sure as hell 
didn't know that she was constantly bringing up Jack's 
name and teasing Mulder about him, because she was 
testing the waters, wondering if her mentioning this other 
man would evoke any kind of reaction out of her partner. 
He had hid his jealousy pretty well, but Scully could still 
detect a hint of it. This gave her something to hope for as 
well as a quiet sense of satisfaction that she could make 
Mulder feel jealous.

Scully checked the slot number that the poster was 
located in and snagged one. "Here it is, Mulder!" she 
declared triumphantly. 

"Yep," he agreed softly, his mood turning towards 
melancholy, "there it is."

"Mulder, you all right?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. I'm fine," he told her, using 
the phrase he knew she used to say to him to keep him at 
bay.

Apparently, she didn't catch onto the significance. 
"Did you want to look around this place some more?"

"Nah, we can go. Got a bit of a drive to get you 
home, and it'll be dinner time soon anyway."

"Okay, let's go check out then."

Both agents walked up to the counter with their 
purchases where Rusty awaited them. Unbeknownst to 
them, he had been observing their interaction the entire 
time. He could see that Agent Scully had a thing for her 
partner. And he was already well aware of the love jones 
Mulder held for her. Watching Mulder's now forlorn 
expression, Rusty wondered when the guy was gonna 
grow some balls and just kiss his woman, or ask her out 
on a real date. That would sure beat bringing her down to 
the rowdy, college crowded M Street, and into his place, 
full of every geek's wet dream... not that it wasn't a fine 
establishment in its own right, just not a proper place for 
a date.

"Find everything you need?" Rusty asked 
encouragingly, giving Mulder a hopeful grin.

"And then some," Scully said, smiling, as Mulder 
plunked the Princess Leia mug onto the counter.

"Ah, the lovely Leia," Rusty said, smiling, then 
winking at Scully. "You buying the princess mug for your 
princess, Mulder?"

Scully turned bright red. Mulder nearly matched 
her shade. "Uh, it's for Scully," he squeaked in 
embarrassment.

"I'm his partner," Scully added dumbly.

"Yeah, I got that," Rusty chuckled, and realized 
things were even more hopeless than he'd initially 
thought. Not only was Mulder inept in the art of love, but 
his "partner" didn't seem to be that far behind him. He 
kind of felt sorry for them. They might never get laid at 
the rate they were going. "Anything else, man?" he asked, 
noticing the poster in Scully's hand.

"Oh, I'm buying this," Scully told the shopkeeper.

"Here, Scully, I'll take care of it," Mulder offered, 
sliding the slim, cylindrical form deftly from her fingers.

"But Mulder, that wouldn't be fair. I mean, I'm 
getting it for someone you don't even know."

He shrugged. "Hey, Scully, any friend of yours is a 
friend of mine."

"Mulder-" she began, grabbing the poster back 
from him.

"Scully, I got it," he insisted, and he snatched the 
item in question out of her grasp once again. "I wanted to 
treat you to everything today. I meant that."

To his surprise, she smiled. "All right, Mulder. 
Thank you."

Her acquiescence made him smile, too. "You're 
welcome," he replied, making love to her with his eyes.

She averted hers for a moment, before offering him 
an identical loving look.

Rusty sighed, somehow feeling dirty at just having 
to witness the exchange. He honestly couldn't see why the 
hell these two weren't doing the mattress mambo by now. 
Sure, making love with one's eyes was a lot less messy 
and didn't require a bed, but it was also a lot less fun!

"What a guy," Rusty said, trying like mad to help 
his friend out, make him look good to the lady. "Mulder, 
you're a prince."

Mulder mistook his friend's helpfulness as being a 
jerk, and was about to tell him to shut up, when Scully 
spoke up first.

"He certainly is," she agreed, smiling shyly and 
patting Mulder's arm.

Unconsciously puffing out his chest again, like a 
mighty silverback watching over his gorilla group, 
Mulder paid with his credit card and wrapped his arm 
around his partner's shoulders for the countless time that 
day.

"Have a good one, Mulder," Rusty said, once he 
was done ringing up their items and after he carefully 
wrapped up the Princess Leia mug in some protective 
tissue paper. "Don't be such a stranger. I got new stuff 
coming in all the time!"

"Yeah, maybe I'll come back in next month," 
Mulder said noncommittally, although truthfully, he did 
enjoy perusing this crazy place.

"Yeah," Scully added, nodding amicably at Rusty, 
"maybe we'll see you next month."

"That would be a pleasure, Miss Scully," Rusty 
told her, and he noticed that Mulder's manly pride was 
simply bursting at the seams. Maybe there was hope for 
them yet.

They left the store and headed for Mulder's car. 
Once inside, he started up and hit the streets, all the 
while, simply beaming over Scully's hopeful words. He 
smiled radiantly at her, and she blushed.

"Hey, Mulder," she said after giving herself a 
moment to compose, "you know, by the time we get to 
my place, it will definitely be dinner time. Why don't you 
stick around and I'll make us something to eat? We could 
watch a movie, or something. It's the least I can do, 
considering your generosity of treating me through out 
the day."

Mulder, behind the wheel and driving through 
heavy traffic, glanced briefly over at her long enough to 
offer her a loving smile. Anything to prolong spending 
time with the woman he adored, he'd readily agree to. 
And her cooking a nice meal for him sounded a lot better 
than the week old pizza waiting for him at home in his 
smelly fridge. "That would be great, Scully, thanks."

She smiled back at him, equally happy to be 
prolonging their time spent together into the evening. 
"Yeah, great."

They drove in companionable silence for awhile, 
before Mulder's insatiable curiosity got the better of him. 
"So, Scully," he said, trying to sound casual and 
nonchalant, "when you left Maine, you opted to fly home 
into D.C., instead of driving, right?"

"You already know that I did," she murmured 
absently, staring out the window at random people, going 
into random places. She hadn't been "people watching" 
just for fun in quite some time...

"How come?" he asked.

"Eh, just didn't feel like making the long drive 
back, I suppose," she replied, spotting a couple of young 
guys in leather pants and jackets and sporting tattoos, 
piercings and multi-colored mohawks. It made her 
chuckle quietly to herself.

"So," he said again, trying to keep up his cavalier 
attitude, "Did... Jack take you to the airport?" He kept his 
gaze focused on the traffic in front of him.

Scully's heart did flip flops, actually glad that he 
wanted to know. "As a matter of fact, yes, he did. We had 
a nice conversation on the way."

"Oh," he replied, feigning a pleasant tone that was 
wearing thin for them both. "What did you guys, um, find 
to talk about?" He unconsciously held his breath, hoping 
beyond hope that this "nice" conversation didn't include 
the exchanging of phone numbers.

Finally, he had gotten to the heart of the matter. 
Finally, she would be forced to let him off the hook. With 
a radiant smile, she told him, "He talked about his wife 
and kids."

Mulder sighed in frank relief and didn't even 
bother to hide the grin he knew he wouldn't be able to 
hide if his life depended on it. "Oh! Well... that's... nice!"

"Yeah, it was," she agreed, noticing his relief and 
happiness over the fact that Jack was married with kids. 
She now had a better understanding of Mulder's feelings 
for her. Not a clear one by any means, but most certainly 
less clouded than before.

"So, uh..." he went on, genuinely curious, "who- 
eh, what did you tell him about?" 

Her expression going shy, Scully averted her gaze 
back to the window. "My partner."

They shared another glance between them, then 
quieted again for the rest of the drive back to her 
apartment...



Scene eleven: "My Scully Sense is 
tingling!" [Rated PG]

August 10, 1998
Georgetown, Dana Scully Residence
6:49 p.m.

Scully had finished eating dinner and was 
planning on washing up all of her dishes. She put the 
stopper in the sink drain, turned on the faucet and 
watched the water flow as she added some dish soap. 
Once it was full, she had just dipped her hands into the 
hot water, when the knock came at the door. With a sigh, 
she dried her hands and hurried to answer it. 

She had been expecting a package to be delivered, 
from her brother, Charlie, who was currently stationed in 
France for the next six months. He had called her the 
other day and told her that he had sent her a French "ooh, 
la-la" care package. And yes, he had actually said, "ooh, 
la-la", making her laugh in spite of herself. Charlie was 
her favorite brother, whether Bill liked it or not. Charlie 
was silly and fun loving and respectful of her life choices. 
He was a good brother, who wanted what was best for 
her and loved her for who she was, just like... just like...

"Mulder?" she said in surprise, upon opening the 
door and finding her handsome partner standing there.

He smiled. "Hey, Scully. What's up?"

"Uh... nothing. About to do some dishes, 
actually," she replied, stepping aside to allow him access 
into her apartment. She headed back to the kitchen area, 
Mulder in tow, close at her heels. "What's up with you?" 
she asked.

"Just about to help my partner do some dishes," he said, 
his eyes twinkling merrily at her.

They stood in front of the sink together. "Mulder, 
you don't need to do my dishes. I-"

He took a hold of one of her hands, which still held 
minute traces of frost bite on her skin. "The soapy water 
might make it sting. Why don't I wash and you dry?" he 
suggested.

Scully raised her eyebrow at him. "All right," she 
agreed finally, wondering if he realized that she washed 
her hands with soapy water all throughout the day, and 
used soap in the shower as well. She didn't mention it 
though. Not only was she grateful for the help, she had 
the feeling that he'd only insist on helping her in the 
shower, too, if she said anything. She chuckled inwardly, 
grabbing up a clean towel for drying.

Mulder washed the first dish, and handed it to her. 
The task was at hand. "So," he said, making small talk as 
he carefully scrubbed her Princess Leia coffee mug clean, 
"you looked surprised to find me at your door. Expecting 
someone else?" He tried not to appear too obvious, but 
both of them knew darn well what he was asking.

"Oh, no," she was quick to put him at ease. "My 
brother called me the other day and said he had sent me a 
package that should be arriving very soon. I assumed it 
would be UPS or something."

"Bill?" he asked, his Adam's apple bobbing 
nervously, his body going tense at the mention of her 
older brother's name.

"No," she assured him, taking her cherished 
Princess Leia mug and drying it off. "I'm talking about 
my nice brother, Charlie. He's stationed in France right 
now."

"Ooh, la-la!" Mulder crooned, making her laugh, 
just as Charlie had. Yes, her partner certainly had a 
similar sense of humor to her little brother.

"Exactly," she chuckled.

"What's he sending you? Some wine, cheese and 
dirty postcards?" he leered.

"I'm sure that's what it is," she teased.

"Nah, that can't be right," he said, moving onto a 
pan. "To be perfectly frank, I don't think this brother 
Charlie of yours even exists!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked with a 
raise of the trademark Scully eyebrow- a maneuver that 
that her so-called nonexistent little brother could do, as 
well.

"I've never seen him at a single family function," 
he informed her, weighing the evidence.

"Well, how many Scully family functions have you 
attended, Mulder?"

"Quite a few, actually," he recalled, and she 
realized just how much he had become the biggest part of 
her life. How many other FBI agents had their partners 
join them in family get togethers? She heard him go on. 
"And I've never seen him, not once."
     
"His job keeps him out of the country most of the 
time," she snickered. "You should know that, seeing as 

I've told you before, Mr. Eidetic Memory. Besides, you've 
seen pictures of him at my mom's house."

"That was probably just some neighborhood kid 
that kept sneaking into your childhood photo ops," he 
teased.

Scully smiled, shaking her head. "Well, I'm sure 
Charlie- as well as his wife and kids- would be shocked to 
learn that he doesn't exist."

"I don't doubt it. I can imagine that would be a 
hard thing to deal with."

She rolled her eyes at him, and playfully splashed 
some of the sudsy water down the front of his shirt. He 
protested by splashing her right back, down the front of 
hers. By this time, the dishes were done, anyway, so they 
no longer needed to use it. Scully turned on the faucet 
and used the attaching spray nozzle to get him in the face.

"You are going to get it, Scully!" he growled, 
lunging for her, and she raced out of the kitchen area, 
towards the living room. "Come here!" he called, chasing 
after her, "I'm going to toss you into the shower with all 
your clothes on!"

Scully chose to ignore his threat and sat down 
primly on the sofa, as if she were the picture of innocence. 
"No, you wouldn't," she told him, sweetly. "You didn't 
want me to get my hands wet, remember?"

He sat down next to her. "Wait a minute! It's been 
a couple of weeks since we've been back. I notice you 
don't stink, so you must be showering! Damn! I should 
have had you wash, while I dried."

She offered him the most breathtaking smile from 
her arsenal of breathtaking smiles. It melted his heart and 
turned him into a big ball of mush. "You offered, Mulder. 
Like I'm going to refuse help in the kitchen, even if I don't 
need it."

"Guess it's too late to offer up my services as your 
shower buddy, help you out with those hard to reach 
places because of your sore hands, isn't it?"

"Afraid so," she sighed mockingly.

"Damn," he pouted again, jutting out his lower lip 
and making her chuckle again.

"Want some iced tea?" she asked, to soothe him.

"Ah, that's fate, isn't it?" he said, winking at her, 
recalling a conversation from a late night stakeout years 
before. "And yeah, that would be great, thanks."

She patted his knee, and ventured back to the 
kitchen. Within moments, she returned with two, tall 
glasses filled with ice, tea and a lemon wedge floating at 
the top of each one. He took one from her, clinked his 
glass against her own.

"To iced tea and fate," he murmured, giving her a 
meaningful glance.

Scully blushed. "To fate. Cheers." They drank up 
and sat in companionable silence for awhile.

"Good tea," he complimented her and she smiled 
her thanks.

"So, Mulder, not that I'm complaining, especially 
since my dishes are now so clean with the Mulder touch, 
but what brings you by this evening? Have you heard 
anything new about the X-Files?"

Mulder chewed up an ice cube, making that 
obnoxious crunching sound that irritated Scully 
whenever anyone- except him- did so in her presence. 
"Nah," he said, "I just came over to... help you with the 
dishes."

She laughed. "Really? Wow, how did you know?"

"Well, you know, I've asked myself that same 
question time and again, Scully, about how I always seem 
to know when you need me, and the best explanation I 
could give you would be to compare it to Spiderman!"

"Spiderman?" 

"God, please don't tell me you've never read 
comics as a kid, Scully," he groaned in mock horror.

"Sure, we did. But we always read Detective 
Comics, not Marvel."

He shook his head at her. "It's a wonder you grew 
up so well-adjusted, what with a childhood like that!"

"Very funny, Mulder," she retorted. "Okay, I'm 
semi-familiar with the Spiderman story. He has that 
'spider intuition', right?"

"Spidey-sense," he corrected her. "His Spidey-sense 
would tingle when something was amiss or in need of his 
attention. That's what I have, only for you."

"So, you have... Scully-sense?" she asked, and he 
nodded approvingly. "And you just knew I needed help 
with my dishes? Your Scully-sense was tingling?"

"All the time," he informed her, wearing a lustful 
smile.

Scully blushed furiously this time, enjoying the fact 
that he was flirting so openly with her. She recalled their 
near-kiss in the hallway outside of his apartment two 
weeks before. Oh, if not for that damn bee! She wondered 
what might have happened had she not been stung.

"Scully?" he asked carefully, watching with 
curiosity and concern over her quiet, reflective turn about.

Instead of bringing up a memory that was both 
cherished and maligned to her, she gazed at him with 
teary eyes. "Well, your Scully-sense tingled you all the 
way to Antarctica, Mulder. You risked everything- 
including your own life- to find and rescue me. I'm 
forever grateful for that." She reached out to take his 
hand.

Mulder drew her closer, enveloping her in a 
loving, protective embrace. "You'd have done the same 
for me," he said knowingly. "Besides, if something ever 
happened to you, I don't know... I... it would kill me, 
Scully, honest." He kissed the top of her head as she 
rested it upon his chest.

"I know. I feel the same way about you," she 
whispered against his gray tee shirt.

"I wasn't lying when I said that you make me a 
whole person," he admitted. "And... I'd be... lost without 
my better half."

"Mulder..." she murmured, sitting up straight and 
staring at him with wide, blue eyes. She reached up and 
caressed his face in her palm.

Their eyes locked yet again, searching the face of 
the other, yearning for the touch of the one they loved 
best. They moved closer, their lips, once more, nearly 
touching. They could each feel the breath of their better 
half against each other's faces. His lip just barely grazed 
hers, and... and...

A loud knock at the door startled them both, and 
they jumped up to stand from the couch, glancing at each 
other like naughty teens who'd been caught playing Spin 
the Bottle in their parents' basement.

"Uh..." Scully stammered, averting her eyes.

"Maybe you should get that," he suggested, 
gesturing at the door, and looking equally chagrined.

"Right," she agreed. She ventured over and opened 
up the door. "Mom?"

"Hello, sweetheart," Margaret Scully said, coming 
into the apartment carrying a medium-sized box. She 
kissed her cherished baby girl then set the box on the 
small table by the door. That's when she noticed her 
daughter's guest. "Oh, Fox! I didn't see you there!" 
Maggie's eyes went wide as he waved sheepishly at her. 
She turned back to Dana. "I didn't interrupt... anything, I 
hope?"

"Oh, no, no, of course not!" both Mulder and 
Scully insisted in unison, which instantly made Mrs. 
Scully reason- with much regret- that she had interrupted 
something. She could have kicked herself. Dana and Fox, 
she realized long ago, were truly meant for each other and 
they loved each other more fiercely than any two people 
she had ever seen, but for some silly reason, neither 
would own up to it- at least, not out loud, to each other- 
and neither seemed to have the guts to take the first step. 
But perhaps tonight, one of them had smartened up 
and... and... she had walked in on them. She sighed in 
frank disappointment with herself. Who knew when these 
two would work up their courage enough to breach the 
subject again. She loved her daughter, and she adored 
Fox. She knew they could only be happier if only they 
would admit to their true feelings for each other. Though 
she considered herself a somewhat old fashioned woman, 
even she had to admit that her youngest daughter was in 
desperate need of some lovin'. Her husband would have 
put it in a different way, perhaps. The girl needed to get laid. 
Maggie blushed over the thought, even though she knew 
it was true. Dana needed Fox... in more ways than one. 
And gauging by what she knew of her daughter's partner, 
he appeared to need the same things from her daughter.

"So, Mom, what brings you out here... to 
Georgetown... at this time of night... right now... without 
warning..." Scully mumbled, still flustered. She was 
trying to calm down the crimson coloring in her cheeks, 
that came from both her embarrassment at her mother's 
unexpected visit, and the desire that was still throbbing 
inside of her because of her partner.

Maggie smiled knowingly. She knew that look. She 
got that look herself every time Bill, Sr. would get home 
from a particularly long mission at sea. She ignored her 
daughter's stuttering. Bringing it up would only 
embarrass her further and probably make her angry. 
Dana always did have her father's- and her older 
brother's- nasty temper, although she was fairly good at 
tamping it down... most of the time. "Your brother 
Charlie sent me a package, but it was clearly marked for 
you. He just put the wrong address on it, I suppose. But, 
you know your brother."

"Yeah," Scully chuckled, glad to be talking about 
anything or anyone other than Mulder, who she knew 
was currently boring a hole into the back of her head with 
his smoldering gaze. Damn, couldn't he tune it out, at 
least while her mother was in the room with them? 
"That's Charlie, all right."

Mulder chuckled. "You know why his memory is 
so bad, Scully, don't you?"

"Why?" she retorted playfully, "because he doesn't 
exist?"

"Precisely."

Mrs. Scully glanced between the two partners as 
they smiled at each other. This was obviously some sort of 
in-joke between them, so she didn't even bother asking 
for an explanation. "Um, tonight was my night for Meals-
on-Wheels delivery," she went on, "and this was the area 
I was given, so after I finished, I thought I'd drop by, see 
if you wanted to catch a late movie with me. But if you 
and Fox have plans, then I certainly wouldn't want to-"

"No, we don't, Mrs. Scully," Mulder assured the 
woman, babbling almost like a bashful schoolboy. "I 
mean, I just dropped by to help her with the dishes, on 
account of all the tingling, and she splashed me, and then 
there was the shower and the iced... tea... and... um, I 
think I'd better be going," he said, his ears turning red. 
Could he sound any more incoherent?

"Or, you could maybe join us for that movie, 
Fox..." Maggie suggested, and she turned to her 
daughter, giving the younger woman a conspirational 
wink.

"Yes," Scully agreed, looking very much like she 
loved the idea. She glanced hopefully at her partner. 
"Mulder, you game?"

"Oh, um..." he stammered, not truly sure if he was 
genuinely wanted on this excursion or not. Wouldn't they 
rather of had some sort of mother-daughter bonding 
time? Weren't they just being polite, since he had barged 
in and taken another night out of his partner's precious 
free time?

"It'll be fun," Maggie promised. "We'll even let 
you hold the popcorn."

"You can sit in the middle," Scully added, enjoying 
the thought of her partner sitting in a movie theater and 
being surrounded by Scully women.

Mulder seemed to be entertaining the same 
thought as she, and he found the idea to be equally 
desirable. Any chance to sit next to Scully in the dark, 
possibly brush his fingers against hers while reaching for 
the popcorn at the same time. Faking a sneeze so he could 
drop his arm around her shoulder... "Well, in that case, I 
gladly accept the invitation. Thank you, Mrs. Scully," he 
chuckled. He offered her a quick smile, before his eyes 
returned to rest on the face of his favorite person in the 
world. The smile did remain, but then changed into 
something a little more sensual. None of this was lost on 
Maggie.

"Wonderful!" she announced. "My car is parked 
down the street."

"I wouldn't mind driving us, Mrs. Scully," Mulder 
offered chivalrously, never tiring in trying to make a good 
impression on the mother of the woman he adored.

Scully was about to protest, but her mom spoke up 
before she could. "That would be lovely, thank you, Fox. 
You're such a thoughtful man." Mulder beamed over the 
compliment. "Isn't he so thoughtful, Dana?"

Reaching for her purse, Dana smiled at Mulder, 
gazing upon him with her true blue eyes. "More than 
you'll ever know," she answered cryptically, making the 
man beam even more radiantly.

A moment later, the three of them left to go see a 
movie at the small theater a few blocks from Scully's 
apartment. Though there had been a science fiction film 
that Mulder would have liked, and an intelligent drama 
that had piqued Scully's own interest, they settled on the 
mystery that Maggie wanted to see. For the two partners, 
the movie itself was not nearly as important as the 
company they kept.

And as promised, Mulder sat in the middle and got 
to hold the popcorn in one hand, and his partner's in the 
other.



Scene Twelve: "Christmas 
Traditions- Mistletoe & Mayhem" 
[Rated PG-13]

December 25, 1998
Baltimore, Margaret Scully residence

10:45 a.m. 

Mulder sat on the sofa next to his partner, 
observing the children play with their new toys on the 
floor in front of him. He watched them with a fond eye. 
Though it was never something he thought much about, 
Mulder liked kids, thought they were fun and amusing. 
Wherever his sister was, he didn't think she had 
produced any offspring- at least, he never got that feeling 
that she might have. That left Scully's brood of a niece 
and three nephews as the closest he would most likely 
ever come to having any of his own.

Glancing around the room, Mulder spied Margaret 
Scully having a happy, spirited conversation with her 
daughter-in-law, Jenny, Charlie's wife. Charlie, still 
stationed in France, had been unable to get away for the 
holidays, but his wife and their three kids had decided to 
come visit Grandma Scully on this holiest of days.

Bill Scully, Jr. and his wife, Tara, were sitting 
together on the love seat. Tara was listening in with 
Maggie and Jenny, occasionally throwing in a comment or 
two of her own. Their little boy, Matthew, sat placidly on 
her lap, playing with some weird sort of baby toy that 
made a lot of noise. Bill seemed to concentrate his entire 
being on his little sister and her guest, going back and 
forth between staring disapprovingly at Dana, or 
glowering with unadulterated hatred in his eyes at 
Mulder. So, Mulder followed his partner's lead, and did 
his best not to even look at the man.

Scully sat smack dab next to Mulder on the sofa, so 
closely that their bodies were touching from their 
shoulders down to their knees. She was simultaneously 
reading her three-year-old niece a story, and instructing 
her eldest nephew, twelve-year-old Brandon, how to set 
up his new Trivial Pursuit board game.

Blowing out a breath, Mulder was still trying to 
figure out how he ended up here in the first place. He had 
conned Scully into going ghost busting with him the night 
before. What he'd been hoping would be a fun hour of 
scaring her- and maybe getting her to snuggle up to him- 
ended up being a night long torture session between he 
and Scully and two rather mean-spirited ghosts. He felt 
fortunate they had made it out of there with their lives. 
He had also learned a little more about himself than he 
had ever wanted. It still shamed him to think of all the 
cruel, cockamamie things Maurice had said about him. 
What hurt so much was the fact that he felt most of it was 
true.

He had gone home, alone, feeling depressed and 
missing his beautiful partner terribly. But Santa must 
have had pity on him, for who should come a calling just 
an hour later, but that same beautiful partner he so loved 
and adored. They had even exchanged gifts! Scully had 
given him a new copy of Close Encounters of the Third Kind 
on VHS, to replace his worn out one. And he had 
presented her with a bottle of her- and his- favorite 
perfume. God, she always smelled so heavenly when she 
wore it. Of course, he enjoyed her natural scent, too, but if 
she was going to wear perfume, it might as well have 
been the kind he loved. He had hoped that his gift might 
be construed as sexy, romantic. After so many years of 
being with Scully, being her partner and her friend, he 
realized that, as wonderful as it was, it just wasn't enough 
for him. He needed her, in every possible way. Mulder 
was so desperately in love with her. He thought she might 
feel the same way, but Scully could be so guarded, so 
stoic, that he was never sure. He knew she did love him, 
but how much and in what way? Plus, there was a figure 
from his past that had put a small rift between them in the 
past six months... Diana Fowley... 

Diana wasn't the horrible, nasty villain Scully 
painted her to be. Nor did she mean anything to Mulder 
anymore, except as a trusted colleague. He didn't even 
consider her truly a friend. In fact, though they had dated 
for awhile after he had graduated from the academy, he 
still wasn't sure they could have been considered true 
friends... not like he and Scully. Of course, there wasn't a 
relationship in his entire life that could hold a candle to 
what he felt for Scully, whether she loved him 
romantically, or not. If she never wanted him sexually, 
but remained his friend, remained loyal and true- and he 
had no reason to doubt that she would- then he could go 
on living the life of a monk. Or at least, until he exploded 
from built up unresolved sexual frustration. Either way, 
he would stay faithful to the woman he loved, 
indefinitely.

While he and Scully had sat on his worn out 
leather couch, admiring their gifts from each other, 
smiling, hugging, doing a little flirting, her cell phone had 
rang. She'd answered it absently, still chuckling over 
some amusing thing he had said, and after a moment, her 
posture went rim rod straight, and her eyes grew wide. 
For the briefest moment, he wondered if it was Skinner, 
barking orders at them to come in on Christmas day on 
some case that couldn't wait. But no, it had been her 
mother, worried sick that she hadn't arrived at the Scully 
homestead and wondering where she was, since she 
obviously wasn't home. Scully had then explained she 
was at Mulder's, and he could hear the woman on the 
other end of the phone call calm down somewhat. He 
then had watched his lovely partner as she listened to her 
mom, speaking only to say a few words here and there, 
such as, "Oh?" "No, I don't believe he does." "Really?" "I 
think it's a good idea, too, Mom." "No, I'll make sure he 
doesn't refuse." And finally, the one that surprised 
Mulder most of all, "We'll be there within an hour!"

So it was between Mrs. Scully's gentle insistence 
and his partner's you-are-coming-with-me-and-you're-
going-to-like-it! demand, there he was, sitting on the 
couch in his beloved's mother's house, smack dab next to 
her and surrounded by a large gaggle of Scullys of all 
ages and sizes and on Christmas day! It was truly surreal.

"Aunt Dana," Mulder heard Brandon sigh, "can 
you please make crazy boy over there stop putting the 
little pie pieces into his mouth?"

"Brandon, don't call him crazy boy," Scully scolded. 
She turned to her younger nephew. "Josh, that's your 
brother's game and you are too old to act this way. What, 
are you insane?"

Mulder snickered, watching eight-year-old Joshua 
gleefully spit out six pie pieces from his mouth, onto the 
game board, complete with slobber. "Scully," he 
whispered, "don't call him insane." He winked at her.

She made a face at him, then watched her nephews 
squabble over the game board and how Joshua had all but 
ruined it with his spit. This only made Joshua- who 
Mulder surmised, had to be the "jokester" of the family- 
laugh maniacally. He spit on his hand and wiped it on his 
brother's shirt.

"Gross!" both Scully and Brandon chimed together, 
even making the exact same face of disgust. Mulder 
started laughing, not sure what was more amusing, 
Joshua's disgusting sense of humor or Scully's adorable 
reaction to it.

In mid-conversation, Jenny turned to look at her 
boys on the floor and said, "Knock it off, kids. It's 
Christmas, for crying out loud!" Then returned her full 
attention to her mother-in-law, not missing a beat.

"Wow, you Scully women sure are great 
multitaskers," Mulder cracked. Scully smacked him on 
the arm.

"Aunt Dana no hitting," her niece scolded her in a 
way that only small children could get away with. "You 
should be going into time out!" She looked very seriously 
at her favorite aunt with childlike disapproval.

"I'm too tall for time outs," Scully explained.

Both of her nephews and Mulder all said in unison, 
"No, you're not."

She gave them all her Scully look, which shut them 
up immediately.

"Aunt Dana, Uncle Mulder, would you guys play 
my game with me?" Brandon asked. "These kids are just 
too young to understand." He gestured to his younger 
brother and sister- pausing to give Josh a dirty look- and 
then his little cousin, Matthew, who had left the confines 
of his mother's lap and was now off in a corner and 
ripping up a bunch of discarded wrapping paper most 
gleefully.

"Sure, we will," Scully agreed easily for them both, 
not giving Mulder a say in the matter at all.

Mulder himself was still trying to wrap his mind 
around the fact that Scully's nephew had just referred to 
him as Uncle Mulder in a very casual, nonchalant way. 
Scully hadn't seemed to notice. At least, she hadn't 
corrected her young relative. Usually if people equated 
Mulder and Scully as some sort of bonafide couple, she 
was quick to correct them. He glanced around the room, 
wondering if anyone else had noticed this. Mrs. Scully 
and her daughters-in-law were still yammering away. 
Joshua was still behaving obnoxiously, this time trying to 
shove the pie pieces into his nose. Scully's niece was busy 
playing with the woman's hair, a shade that was close to 
her own, and Matty had finished with his paper ripping 
and had moved on to box tearing.

But then... Mulder dared to look over at Scully's 
older brother, Bill. The man was glaring at him, looking 
like a bull that was staring at a red flag. He would stop 
only long enough to offer a less threatening glare to his 
nephew, for even using such blasphemy. 

"Mr. Mulder is not your uncle, Brandon," Bill said 
in a quiet, seething tone. It made Mulder flinch and want 
to slink away and hide in a corner somewhere.

He could see though, that both his beautiful 
partner and her lovely mother were about to chew the 
guy out for being so nasty- and on Christmas day- but 
young Brandon beat them to the punch.

"Well," Brandon informed his uncle, using a no-
nonsense tone that Mulder had heard his beloved use 
millions of times, "Mom and Dad said I should, and 
Grandma agreed. And Aunt Dana doesn't care, and 
neither does Uncle Mulder."

Everyone sat there in stunned silence for a long 
moment. Normally, a child in the Scully family who 
dared to talk back to an adult in such a manner would be 
immediately reprimanded, possibly even grounded, but 
this time, no one said anything.

Bill, Jr., for his part, started to glare at everyone in 
the room. Apparently, he was alone in his zealous hatred 
for the man who had been responsible for the death of his 
favorite sister, as well as for almost killing his baby sister 
on numerous occasions. He stood and marched out of the 
room, heading towards the kitchen, and still having no 
idea as to why this sorry son-of-a-bitch had even been 
invited to this sacred, family gathering.

Mulder felt mortified at being the reason for such 
discord erupting on Christmas day in his partner's family 
celebration. He was certain that Scully would suggest that 
he head home, or Maggie would ask him to leave her 
house. He knew he couldn't face either of those scenarios, 
so he stood, ready to leave of his own accord.

Scully stood with him and took his hand, gently 
giving it a tug, and making him sit down beside her on 
the floor in front of the sofa they had just risen off of. 
"Good idea, Mulder," she said, as if her brother's outburst 
had never occurred. "Let's sit on the floor. It's closer to 
the board."

Tara came over and sat down on the floor beside 
Mulder. "I'm very sorry for my husband's... behavior," 
she whispered apologetically. "He... well, he's been over 
worked and stressed out lately." She patted his arm in a 
kindly manner, as Matthew toddled over to her and 
plopped down into her lap. "I'd like to play, too," she 
announced.

"Mom, Grandma, will you guys play?" Brandon 
asked hopefully.

They both eagerly agreed and ventured over to the 
group, everyone getting on the floor and crowding 
around the game board.

"We'll need to pick teams," Brandon wisely 
surmised. "Mom, will you be on mine?"

"Of course, honey," Jenny said affectionately.

"I want to be on your team, too!" Joshua insisted 
and his mother affirmed it, much to Brandon's 
annoyance.

"Tara, why don't you and I... and Matty be on a 
team?" Maggie suggested, and she offered her daughter 
and her partner a knowing smile.

"Mulder and I will be a team, then," Scully piped 
up. When her three-year-old niece, also named Dana, 
crawled up into Mulder's lap, much to his surprise, she 
added, "And Dana, Jr. here, too."

Mulder glanced down at the little girl sitting in his 
lap and trying to remove his wristwatch. She was 
beautiful. She had dark red hair and big blue eyes, just 
like Scully. He had seen pictures of his partner at different 
stages in her life thus far, and he had to say her niece 
looked a lot like her at the same age.

"Uncle Mulder, I want your watch!" little Dana 
exclaimed and she smiled at him in just the way he'd seen 
the older Dana do whenever she wanted something from 
him.

He gulped. "Two Dana Scully's on one team. I 
hope I can handle this."

Scully smirked at him. "Very funny, Mulder."

"You've got the two most demanding Scully 
women right there on your team, Fox," Maggie teased 
him. "You better hold your own."

"Mom!" Scully protested, while her two sisters-in-
law chuckled in agreement and little Dana deftly removed 
Mulder's watch.

"Hey!" he laughed. "She got my watch off!"

Scully smiled fondly at her niece, reaching out to 
smooth back the child's unruly locks. "She's very smart."
     
Mulder leaned in closer to her, to whisper in her 
ear. "Just like another Dana Scully I know."

They shared a loving look between them, one that 
was not lost on the other adults- or the two older 
children- in the room.

*    *    *

Bill, Jr. returned to the living room about forty-five 
minutes later, sipping from a glass of eggnog and holding 
two, delicious homemade Christmas cookies in his large 
hand. He'd been embarrassed by what had happened 
earlier, not for anything that he had said, but rather by his 
nephew's insolence. He was planning to phone his 
younger brother after the holiday and let him know just 
how snotty his eldest son was becoming... like father, like 
son, he groused. 

At least things should have calmed down by now. 
He assumed that his remarks had sent Mulder packing, 
humiliated by the acknowledgment that he wasn't really 
welcome around here, and hopefully the dunderhead 
would realize that he had no place at a Scully family 
gathering. It was horrible enough the man monopolized 
so much of his sister's time already. Did he have to start 
invading her holiday plans, as well? Never mind the fact 
that his mother had invited the bastard in the first place. 
He knew his mom was kind hearted and had a soft spot 
for hard luck cases, even a sorry son-of-a-bitch like Fox 
Mulder.

Expecting to find his family- and only his family- 
nestled cozily in the living room, visiting, telling stories of 
Christmases past, or just admiring their new presents, he 
saw something that nearly made him spit his eggnog 
across the room. Bill was shocked to find the entire 
family- and that stupid, love-struck asshole, Mulder- all 
sitting on the floor in front of the sofa playing Trivial 
Pursuit! Mulder was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, 
with his baby sister sitting identically next to him, his 
knee overlapping hers, which made him roll his eyes. 
Jesus, why do they have to sit so fucking close? Tara and I don't 
even sit that close and we're married! Charlie's youngest, 
little Dana, was standing on Mulder's lap, running her 
chubby fingers through Mulder's spiky hair, giggling at 
the sensation. And Matthew- his own son, God-dammit!- 
was sitting on the asshole's lap, hugging him tightly 
about the waist, with a look of adoration on his baby face 
that nearly rivaled Dana's whenever she looked at the shit 
head! To his credit, Mulder was being very tolerant and 
gentle with both small children, laughing with them in 
their glee and taking every few moments to gaze dreamily 
at his partner, who would dreamily gaze right back.

Bill, Jr. noticed that his mother, wife, sister-in-law 
and even his own two nephews were watching Dana and 
Mulder, looking completely beguiled by their obvious 
attraction and desire for each other. Too bad he couldn't 
share in their fervor for young love. The sight of his sister 
with that fucker only made him want to throw up the 
half-dozen Christmas cookies he'd already eaten.

He watched the scene quietly for awhile, not letting 
on that he was standing in the foyer, looking in. He saw 
his mother grab one of the game cards to read a question. 

"All right, Dana, Fox, it's your turn," Maggie said, 
before focusing on the card's small print to read the 
question. "What Prince song had the lyric, Now overcast 
days never turned me on, but something about the clouds and 
her mixed?"

Mulder and Scully glanced briefly at each other 
before they each stated, "Raspberry Beret!"

Maggie nodded encouragingly, while Brandon and 
Josh groaned, as Scully moved her team's game board 
piece even further into first place.

"The kind you find in a second hand store," Scully 
sang quietly in her off-key but endearing voice, surprising 
everyone there.

"And if it was warm she wouldn't wear much more," 
Mulder sing-songed back to her, clearly flirting, actually 
picturing his beautiful partner in a beret... and nothing 
else. The look on his face clearly told everyone exactly 
what he was thinking of, including the shadowy figure 
spying on them from the hall way. The idea of it made Bill 
want to barf up a lung. "You know," he heard the jerk 
wad continue, "that would be a good look for you, 
Scully."

"What? A raspberry beret?" she asked with a 
laugh. "Not even, Mulder!"

"I'm going to get you one next Christmas," he told 
her. Bill shuddered at the idea that Mulder would be 
around to screw up their next Christmas.

"In France they sell lot's of berets, of all colors, 
Uncle Mulder," Brandon piped up helpfully. "It's mostly 
for the tourists. But I bet we could find you one-"

"It is so important to your future that you do not 
finish that statement," Scully snapped playfully at her 
nephew.

He stuck his tongue out at her. "You can't touch 
me, FBI lady," he claimed. "I'm a minor and a citizen of 
France!"

"You are not a citizen of France," she informed 
him. "You're a military brat!"

"Viva la France!" Brandon proclaimed, and Scully 
reached over to tousle his hair.

"You're becoming more and more like your dad 
every day," she chuckled.

"And he's a good contact for procuring that beret," 
Mulder purred from her other side. "For next Christmas."

"If you do, you'll be wearing it yourself, Mulder," 
she informed him haughtily. "I wouldn't be caught dead 
in one of those!"

Maggie exchanged a knowing glance with her two 
daughters-in-law, silently asking, "Could these two be 
any more precious?" She received whole-hearted nods in 
the affirmative by way of reply from both of them.

"I bet you'd look hot," Mulder blurted, 
momentarily forgetting that he and his partner were 
currently sitting amongst her very Catholic family 
members, including her mom, and with her very large big 
brother somewhere nearby.

Scully flushed scarlet, having her partner tease and 
flirt with her so openly in front of her family, but she 
didn't hide, she didn't withdraw. It was Christmas day, 
and she was surrounded by loved-ones and sitting next to 
the only person she could ever picture spending the rest 
of her life with. She was too happy and giddy to let her 
embarrassment spoil the mood.

"Well, that's just too bad, Mulder, because we'll 
never know," she teased him.

Joshua glanced down at the game board and 
groaned out loud at how much ahead his aunt, sister and 
"uncle" were than every other team. "Oh, man! Mulder 
and the Dana's are gonna win!" Everyone could see the 
kid was already giving up in defeat.

"Mulder and the Dana's," Mulder whispered to 
Scully. "Sounds like a sixties pop musical group."

She laughed. "All I can say to that is I hope little 
Dana can sing, because I've heard both of us and we're 
definitely not lead singer material."

"Bet you'd make a good drummer," he told her, his 
mouth still at her ear, his breath tickling her in the most 
sensual way. "You're good at thumping and keeping the 
beat."

"Thumping?" she asked.

"Well, you get my heart thumping," he whispered 
into her ear, before raising his finger to caress the side of 
her face, which was again turning a darker shade.

Bill couldn't hear what the dunder-head had 
whispered into his little sister's ear, but considering the 
blush that appeared on her face, he had a pretty good idea 
it was something flowery or sexual. Either way, he had to 
fight the urge to barge in, tramp through the game board 
and pummel Mulder into the Christmas tree. He became 
distracted when his eldest nephew said, "Dana and 
Mulder are winning because they can read each other's 
minds..." He'd made this announcement in a spooky 
voice that made the adults laugh and Joshua perk up and 
take notice.

"Really?" the eight-year-old asked, his eyes 
growing large, as he stared at Mulder and Scully with 
sudden awe.

"Yeah," Brandon went on, in full storyteller mode 
now. "That's how they can be such good partners and 
find all those aliens and monsters and ghosts..."

"Ghosts? You mean like Ghostbusters?" Joshua 
asked Mulder, clearly impressed.

"Uh... not exactly," Mulder tried to explain.

"Hey, since Aunt Dana and Uncle Mulder were 
going to win anyway, can we just stop playing this?" 
Brandon suggested, already bored with his new game.

"That's not very sportsmanlike," his mother 
reminded him.

"I'm not mad or anything," he promised. "I just 
would rather hear about Dana and Mulder's X-Files cases! 
I've heard you and Dad talk about them, and they sound 
really cool!" He glanced hopefully over at the two FBI 
agents.

"Yeah!" Joshua echoed the sentiment, leaping up 
and down and grabbing Mulder's hand, yanking it back 
and forth. "I wanna hear, too!"

Bill groaned quietly. Boy, it looked like both of his 
brother's sons were turning into little shits!

"Um..." Mulder stuttered, not sure how to 
proceed. He knew the subject of their work was kind of... 
sensitive around here, especially to Bill, Jr., who he was 
sure was lurking about. And their work was so often 
times harrowing, dangerous, even heartbreaking. He did 
not want to spoil the happy Christmas mood they had 
going. Nor did he wish to make any of the adults- 
especially Scully or her mother- upset with him if he 
agreed. He looked expectantly to Scully, feeling it was 
more her place to let them down easy. At least, he hoped 
she'd do it, spare him having to disappoint the kids.

Rolling his eyes, Bill had to wonder if that big-
nosed idiot knew how to act in any situation, especially a 
normal one regarding children. Does he have to look to Dana 
for the answer like that every fucking time? What a pathetic 
moron!

"Sure, Brandon," both Mulder and Bill, Jr. were 
surprised to hear Scully agree. She looked over at her 
partner. "Why don't you regale them with our 
adventures, while my mom and sisters and I get dinner 
underway?" She gave him an encouraging smile, then 
glanced over to the other women in her family, who 
nodded in agreement.

Mulder would be the perfect distraction for the 
small fry, free entertainment, as it were, giving the 
women time to finish their preparations in the kitchen for 
the big feast, without having all those kids constantly 
underfoot, begging for something to eat and ultimately 
slowing down the process. Plus, she wanted him to get to 
know her family. Not only did he not have a close 
relationship with his own mother- the only family he had 
left- but she wanted her partner to feel as if her family was 
his, too. She wasn't entirely sure why, but it was 
important to her. The kids were such a perfect place for 
him to start. Already they were impressed with his 
interesting job and cool demeanor. It wasn't too many 
people that Scully let tease her so openly and get away 
with it. Even the children of the family were aware of this 
fact, and it only raised their respect for Mulder even 
higher.

"Um... sure, Scully," Mulder agreed reluctantly, as 
she gazed expectantly at him. He stood up from the floor, 
still holding the two little ones in his arms. He gave 
Matthew to Tara, who had just stood herself, and gently 
set Dana, Jr. down on her feet beside him. Then he 
reached out, offering Scully a hand. She took it and he 
pulled her into a standing position. Their fingers 
remained entwined for some time after.

At this, Bill, Jr. skulked out the door and ventured 
to sit alone on the front porch of his mother's house, in 
the December cold, without even a jacket.

Reluctantly letting go of her partner's hand, Scully 
patted his shoulder reassuringly and whispered, "Just 
give them the G-rated version, okay, Agent Mulder?"

He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. "Of course, 
Agent Scully," he agreed. They smiled at each other.

Suddenly, three-year-old Dana, Jr. tugged on 
Mulder's pant leg, demanding to be picked up, which he 
readily did. "Uncle Mulder, will you marry me?" she 
asked with all the innocent ardor of a small child.

It was a good thing that Bill, Jr. had already left for 
outside. He surely would have had a heart attack when 
the entire room uttered a collective, "Aw!"

"Uh... I would," Mulder told the child gently, 
"because you're very sweet and pretty and smart, but I'm 
way too old for you."

"That's okay," the child said, reaching out and 
patting him on the nose. "Old people are nice, like 
Grandma and Mommy and Auntie Dana."

Everyone laughed.

Then the women shuffled out of the room towards 
the kitchen. Scully lingered in the doorway for a moment 
longer, staring at her partner with such a loving look, he 
did a double-take, wondering at first, if she had been 
staring at one of the kids. Once he realized he was the 
true recipient of her sweetness, he sighed dreamily, and 
offered her a goofy grin. She smiled back, then left him to 
his own devices.

He glanced down at all the small fry, feeling 
suddenly nervous. He liked kids, sure. But that didn't 
mean he knew how to entertain them, especially without 
additional adult supervision. But Brandon gave him a 
friendly smile, and then little Dana rested her head upon 
his shoulder, sighing in a soft, child's voice. For some 
reason, these gestures put him at ease, and he sat down 
upon the couch. Dana remained on his lap and Brandon 
and Joshua each sat on either side of him. Matthew sat at 
his feet, playing with another new toy.

"I love you, Uncle Mulder," Dana told him, 
yawning. She kissed his cheek.

Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, and Mulder 
barely had the will power to hold them back. He kissed 
the top of the small red head, just as he had done with the 
older Dana Scully so many times before. "I... love you, 
too, sweetheart," he told her gently, wishing that was 
something he could say as easily to her aunt, as well.

Brandon picked up on how affected his aunt's 
partner was by his little sister's affections. "You know," 
he said, "I used to have a crush on Aunt Dana when I was 
little. Before I understood that she was related and stuff."

"Yeah?" Mulder asked. He smiled, finding it very 
easy to understand Brandon's amorous feelings for the 
most wonderful woman on earth.

"Yeah," Brandon added in a conspirational 
whisper, "she's really pretty and nice and she always 
smells good. Now, I know she's my aunt, so that's kind of 
gross..." The boy chuckled. "But I've got a girlfriend back 
home, where we live in France." He puffed out his 
undeveloped chest in boyish pride.

"Really?" Mulder replied, actually impressed. "A 
French girl, huh?"

Brandon nodded. "She even taught me how to 
French kiss. They're known for that, you know."

"Uh, yeah, so I've heard..." Mulder went on in 
surprise. It looked like Scully's young nephew was quite 
the little lothario.

"I want French fries," Dana, Jr. announced, having 
no idea what they were all talking about.

"Not French fries," Mulder tried to explain. 
"French kis- eh, never mind."

"I've French kissed my girlfriend, too," Joshua 
insisted, not wanting to be left out of the more grown up 
conversation.

Brandon narrowed his eyes at his little brother. 
"No, you haven't, dork! You don't even have a girlfriend!"

"Yes, I do!" Josh continued to insist.

His older brother shook his head and mouthed to 
Mulder, "No, he doesn't." He asked the boy, "So, what's 
her name then?"

"Uh... Sheleemisha," he slurred, mumbling 
shamelessly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Brandon asked 
wickedly.

"I... I'm not saying again," Joshua huffed.

Mulder decided to spare the kid's feelings. "Ah, 
come on now, Brandon. Let Josh have at least a little 
mystery."

"Yeah!" Joshua whole-heartedly agreed.

Brandon shrugged. "You still never French kissed 
anyone!" he announced.

Joshua let it slide and turned his attention to 
Mulder, who had just excused him from a bold faced lie. 
"Do you and Aunt Dana French kiss a lot?" the boy 
asked, leaving Mulder momentarily speechless with his 
mouth hanging open. He had just saved Josh from being 
humiliated by his older brother and this was how the kid 
repaid him?

"Shut up, doofus!" Brandon scolded his younger 
sibling for the countless time that day, neither of them 
noticing the deep blush that had crept up on Mulder's 
face. "It's not polite to ask those kinds of questions. 
Besides, they're adults, so you know they do."

"Sorry," Joshua said, looking truly chastised, to 
Mulder, before adding. "So, do you guys have sex a lot? I 
saw my mom and dad one time in the living room and-"

"Shut up!" Brandon said again, this time 
thoroughly disgusted over the very idea of his parents 
being caught doing anything of the kind. He smacked his 
brother upside the head. "That is the grossest thing I've 
ever heard!"

"Hey, guys, wanna hear about the X-Files?" 
Mulder tried again.

"You and Auntie do sex?" the three-year-old Dana 
asked innocently, again, not knowing what she was 
saying.

"Oh, man," Mulder mumbled, hiding his face in 
his hand.

"Sex is gross!" Joshua proclaimed, rubbing at his 
head. Then he threatened, "I'm telling Mom that you hit 
me!"

"Well, if you do," Brandon countered, "I will tell 
her what you just said to Uncle Mulder!"

"Uh, guys!" Mulder shouted over them, looking 
completely red-faced and hoping beyond hope that none 
of this conversation ever got back to any of the women 
currently fixing a Christmas dinner in the kitchen. He 
would be mortified, and he further knew that Scully 
would be twice as mortified to be privy to what was said 
and asked. "Listen, boys, let's not do any tattling today. I 
mean, it's Christmas, right? It should be a nice day. No... 
fighting..." Mulder hoped he was getting through to 
them. He really didn't want anything that had thus 
transpired go past this room. "Besides, don't you want to 
hear about the X-Files?"

"That's right!" Joshua exclaimed in excitement. 
"Ghost busters! Have you ever seen Slimer?" Before 
Mulder could answer him, the boy said, "Hold on! I have 
to get my GI Joe. He wants to hear, too!" He ran across the 
room, snagged his toy, then came bounding back and 
landing on Mulder's side, causing the man to make a 
loud, "oof" sound.

"Quit hurting Uncle Mulder," Brandon hissed.

"If you break him, Auntie will be mad," little Dana 
scolded her brother, making all three of the "men" in the 

room laugh. She snuggled into Mulder's lap, and he gave 
her a squeeze. Ah, why couldn't they all just be sweet, 
innocent little girls...? Mulder wondered, glancing at each 
of the little stinkers sitting on either side of him. Yeah, 
sweet, trouble-free girls... "I gotta go pee pee," the sweet, 
innocent little girl said. 

"Um..." Mulder stammered.

"It's gonna come out really soon, Uncle Mulder," 
she informed him matter of factly.

He leapt up from the couch, holding her about a 
foot away from him. "Uh..."

"It's okay, Uncle Mulder," Brandon volunteered 
nicely, "I'll take her to the bathroom."

"Thanks, Brandon," he replied shakily, feeling as if 
he had narrowly missed being involved in a major 
catastrophe.

"Don't start without me!" the boy called over his 
shoulder as he ushered his sister out of the room.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Mulder sighed. He closed 
his eyes for a brief moment, trying to regain some sense of 
composure. He could hear Matthew making a rustling 
noise, and opened his eyes to check on him. The toddler 
was ripping up more wrapping paper. Mulder nodded in 
approval then became acutely aware that the eight-year-
old boy-menace was sitting next to him on the couch, 
scrutinizing the man very closely.

When Mulder met his eyes, the boy smiled, 
resembling a red haired gremlin. Mulder's Adam's apple 
bobbed nervously, afraid that the little darling was going 
to ask him another one of his famous questions, like how 
old he was when he lost his virginity or what sexual 
position he and Scully preferred.

Instead, Joshua said to him, "Since you're the 
oldest in here, if Matty poops his pants, you're going to 
have to change his diaper!"

*    *    *

About an hour later, Scully returned to the living 
room, to check on the kids... and her partner, and see 
how he was fairing. She half expected to find the poor 
man to be on the bottom of a Scully kid pile-up in the 
middle of the floor, or, even worse, locked away in the 
bathroom, hunkered down behind the toilet in a fetal 
position, mumbling to himself. But she found her partner 
on the couch, Brandon sitting on one side of him, Joshua 
on the other. The two little ones were each perched on a 
knee, being held carefully in place by his large, warm, 
capable hands. The sight made her smile, which caused 
her to blush, even though no one had even seen her yet.

"... And then she turned on the fire alarm and I 
sho- uh, apprehended the Pusher!" he was saying.

"So, she saved you? Aunt Dana did?" Brandon 
asked, sounding ecstatic and proud to be a member of her 
family.

"She always does," came the heartfelt reply that 
caused Scully to swallow the lump in her throat.

"But why did she pull the fire alarm if there wasn't 
a fire?" Joshua asked, scratching his head in confusion.

Brandon groaned out loud. "Jeez, you idiot, she 
did it to distract that Pusher guy!"

"Why?"

The older boy rolled his eyes in aggravation. 
"Because, stupid, if the Pusher was distracted by the 
noise, then he couldn't control Uncle Mulder's brain!"

"Oh... why did Pusher control Uncle Mulder's 
brain?"

Before Brandon could blow his stack, Mulder 
intervened. "He was the bad guy," he explained gently. 
"That's what he did."

"Ah..." Joshua replied, seemingly enlightened.

"How did Aunt Dana even think to do that?" 
Brandon wondered.

"Because she's so smart," Mulder replied 
admiringly, and Scully's heart did flip-flops.

"Why didn't she just go get the rest of the police 
force?" Brandon asked, suddenly realizing just how much 
danger his cherished auntie had been in. It made him 
shudder. Mulder understood exactly how the boy felt. 
Recalling those intense moments always had a profound 
effect on him, too.

"I guess because... she knew that time was of the 
essence. If she had left to go find assistance, I might not 
have... been around when she got back."

"Auntie Dana is really brave, huh, Uncle Mulder?" 
Joshua said proudly. 

"She's the bravest person I know, Josh."

"She's pretty, too," the child added, smiling 
sweetly.

"I'll have to agree with you on that, kid," Mulder 
agreed, and Scully sighed dreamily to herself.

"So, is Aunt Dana the bravest and prettiest girl in 
the world?" Josh asked, trying to re-cap what he assumed 
was the moral of the story... and, in Mulder's eyes, it was.

"Yes, she is, son," he told her. "And the smartest, 
too, don't forget."

Brandon nodded approvingly. "Yeah, she's 
definitely the smartest one in our family, but we're all 
actually pretty smart... well, except for Josh." He smirked 
wickedly at his little brother.

"Shut up, Brandon!" Joshua protested angrily. "I'm 
way smarter than you!"

"You're such an anal gland," Brandon sneered and 

Mulder chuckled in spite of himself- had to give the kid 
points for originality- until Joshua leapt over him and the 
two little ones to tackle his older brother.

"You're an ugly butt hole!" he retorted, trying to 
punch his brother in the face.

The larger boy easily avoided the attack. "For your 
information, all butt holes are ugly, stupid!"

"Yeah, like you!" Josh yelled, struggling with his 
brother, while Mulder tried to stand up and get the 
smaller children out of the way. He hollered a couple of 
times for them to stop, but neither boy would listen.

It was then that Scully knew she had to make her 
presence known. She stepped into the room, cleared her 
throat loudly and told the little hooligans to knock off 
their fighting, or she was going to tell their mother about 
all the insults they had slung back and forth at each other 
just moments before. This admission made Mulder blush 
a little, wondering just how much of their conversation 
she had been listening to before announcing her presence. 
But at least the boys obeyed her commands, and ceased 
their rigorous horseplay. After they stopped, she told 
them that dinner was just about ready, so they had better 
head in and wash up, or they wouldn't be getting 
anything to eat. Considering they were all starved by 
now- most of the kids had vetoed any breakfast in favor 
of opening presents and they had all been too busy with 
the fun of the day to even think about lunch. Brandon 
picked up little Matthew, while Joshua grabbed his 
sister's hand and they all raced for the bathroom.

Scully watched them bound out of the room, 
feeling exhausted just watching them. She wondered if 
she had ever been that full of energy. With a yawn, she 
smiled, recalling that she and her siblings had probably 
been far worse than her niece and nephews ever were. 
Mulder was beside her all of a sudden, his large, warm 
hand making slow, soothing circles on her back. 

"Tired?" he asked gently.

"Yeah, a bit," she admitted, unable to stifle another 
yawn.

He smiled affectionately at her, then his face 
darkened over the recollection that the reason she was so 
tired was because of him. If he hadn't coaxed her out to 
that damn haunted house last night, then tricked her into 
going inside and getting trapped for hours...

"Stop, Mulder," she said.

"Huh?"

"You're thinking so loud I can hear it," she 
chuckled. "I did not mind being out there with you last 
night. In fact, I believe I told you that I wanted to be out 
there with you, just this morning, if you remember."

"Hmm," he surmised, trying to strike up a 
thoughtful expression. "I guess Brandon was right, you 
really can read my mind."

She poked him playfully in the ribs. "Well, when 
you're being that obvious, it isn't too difficult."

Taking a quick inventory of the mess in the living 
room, Scully decided to embark on a quick clean up. 
"Totally anal," she heard her partner snicker, as if he was 
reading her mind.

"Shut up, Mulder," she warned him. "Just want to 
help out my mom a little, before we go in to have dinner." 
With the same look of determination Mulder had seen 
upon her beautiful face when she was about to perform 
an autopsy or write a report to turn in to Skinner, Scully 
started on a hasty clean up job. She took all the presents 
scattered about the room and began making piles for each 
person, sections for each family.

Though he had only received one present here- 
besides the one Scully had given him earlier- which had 
been a tasteful silk tie from Mrs. Scully, Mulder watched 
as she placed his tie right next to her own pile of 
Christmas booty, just as she had put all of Bill's and 
Tara's or Charlie's and Jenny's with each others. As 
absurd as it seemed, this simple gesture brought tears to 
his eyes, which he wiped away before Scully could see.

Watching Scully so busy made him feel idle just 
standing there, so he decided to join her. His contribution 
was to gather up all of the discarded and torn wrapping 
paper- and there was a lot of it, thanks to Matty- and 
wadding it up and throwing it into an empty box near 
one of the end tables. Scully soon noticed his attempts to 
help her.

"Oh, Mulder, that's all right. You don't have to 
clean up after-"

"Scully," he reminded her, "your mom told me 
that I was one of the family, didn't she?"

"Of course!"

"Well, if one of your brothers or the kids was just 
sitting here on their ass, watching you do all the work, 
would you let them get away with it?"

"Hell no," she declared, smiling in surprise that 
her beloved partner would even want to be included in 
her loony family. "I see your point. Very well. Come on, 
Mulder, move your ass! I'm hungry!"

"So bossy," he teased her, wadding up another bit 
of wrapping paper and tossing it at the box. He made it 
and shouted, "two points!" in triumph.

She rolled her eyes. "How impressive," she 
sniggered. "From a whopping three feet away."

"I'd like to see you do better," he challenged, then 
bit his tongue as she grabbed some of the wrapping 
paper, wadded it up and stood a good six feet away. She 
tossed it at the box without looking. It went in, dead 
center.

"Nothing but net," she told him confidently.

He made a face at her. "I bet you were the kind of 
kid who got all A's in school and was the teacher's pet 
and a hall monitor, too."

"Shut up, Mulder," she retorted good-naturedly, 
chuckling inwardly over the fact that she had been all of 
those things and more. It was downright scary how well 
he knew her sometimes.

"So, Miss Bossy," he went on, still using a mocking 
tone, "why are we eating dinner so early? It's only two 
thirty in the afternoon."

She shrugged. "Christmas tradition. Mom always 
cooks way too much food, and of course, everyone always 
eats way too much food. She makes it an early dinner so 
we have time to properly digest before bedtime. 
Otherwise, we'd have to roll each other up the stairs for 
bed later. Plus, it gives our stomachs time to rest before 
dessert. Of course, that never stops the kids in the family 
from demanding pie the minute their dinner plate is 
clean."

"Mmm, pie... Mulder murmured, making a 
drooling sound, a la Homer Simpson.

Scully laughed appreciatively at his antics. "Why 
do I get the feeling that you're going to be even worse 
than the kids about wanting dessert?"

"I'll be good," he promised. "Wouldn't want your 
mom thinking I'm a complete pig and never invite me 
back."

Having finished with her gift organization project, 
Scully began to help him pick up the ravaged wrapping 
paper in earnest. "I don't think that's something you need 
to worry about, Mulder. My mom adores you... probably 
more than she adores me," she laughed. "In fact, I think 
the whole family finds you more than agreeable." She 
glanced shyly at him before hiding her eyes.

"Well, except for Bill," he pointed out.

She sighed. "Ah, forget about him, Mulder. He 
hates everyone at least some of the time. And I know I'm 
not exactly his favorite person."

"Probably because you introduced me into his life," 
Mulder reasoned sadly.

"Mulder," she said in a warning tone. "Remember 
what I told you once? That it isn't always about you? 
Well, this is one of those times. Bill has always been 
something of a brute, especially to Charlie and me, 
growing up. He liked to bully us little ones, for some 
reason. I really don't think he's ever liked me at all, to be 
honest- and that was well before he ever met you."

"I can't understand how anyone could not love 
you, Scully," she heard him murmur. She glanced up, 
realizing just how physically close they suddenly were. It 
startled her a bit. When had he come over here?

Immediately, she ruminated over his words. She 
hadn't mentioned love, but he had. She could also feel his 
body heat pressing into her, as if he was actually holding 
her, although in reality he was at least two feet away. She 
grew slightly breathless and her fair complexion went 
rosy.

Mulder reached out, took her hand. He recalled 
having told her that he loved her, just about a month or so 
ago, while in a hospital. He ended up in that hospital after 
chasing down the ghost ship the Queen Anne. If it hadn't 
been for her and the Gunmen, he surely would have 
drowned. He was well aware of that fact. He also knew 
that Scully had risked a lot- especially in the professional 
sense- to go after him. He felt so much love and gratitude 
for the woman that he hadn't been able to help himself 
and blurted his feelings out loud, for the first time, in her 
presence. He was then rewarded of her doubtful reaction, 
"Oh, brother!" He realized she thought that it had been 
the drugs talking, not his heart. After all, she was a 
doctor, she knew the amount of morphine that had 
already been pumped into his system. He had known 
exactly what he was saying, however. The drugs had not 
been the cause of his sudden need to express what he felt 
was the obvious. Unfortunately, Scully hadn't believed 
him... or maybe she had, and she just had not been 
prepared, or ready to hear such a declaration.

Scully stared into his hazel eyes, having the same 
memory coursing through her skull. Mulder's eyes looked 
as sincere and amorous as they did now. She recalled the 
little thrill that sent chills running down her spine when 
he'd announced his love for her... and she had blown it, 
blown it big time. She had rationalized at the time that 
Mulder was doped up on medication, and could not be 
held accountable for what he did or said. Deep down 
though, she knew he'd meant it. But his words had scared 
her. As much as she loved him, as much as she longed for 
a more intimate relationship with him, she really did not 
feel as though he was truly ready. Encouraging him 
would have caused their romance to bloom prematurely, 
therefore setting it up to end in the same manner.

She wasn't sure what all had changed since then, a 
scant month. Maybe nothing really had changed at all, 
except for the widening chinks in the armor of her resolve 
to keep him at bay until she felt both were ready to 
venture down the path into the unknown together. 
Looking at him now, standing so close, his eyes boring 
into hers, the love in them as plain to see as the desire, she 
honestly didn't think she could resist him. Not today, not 
when they had acted so loving and playful with each 
other, not when she saw the approval in her mother's 
eyes over her choice of mate, not when she witnessed the 
beautiful man in her life awkwardly, but lovingly, 
entertaining the children in her family. Not when the love 
she had for him was bubbling to the surface now, ready to 
burst forth like a volcanic eruption.

Daring to look away from him, if only for a 
moment, Scully instinctively glanced upwards toward the 
ceiling. There, as if it had sprouted just in that moment for 
her own benefit, she spied the sprig of mistletoe above her 
head. Mulder had followed her gaze, noticed the object 
she was focusing on. They looked back to each other at 
the same time...

Her heart beating a mile a minute, Scully drew 
closer to the handsome man in front of her. In a fit of 
daring, she held out her arms, wrapped them about his 
shoulders and pulled him close to her. Not wanting to fall 
behind, Mulder encircled his long arms around her waist, 
his own breath hitching in his throat.

"Oh, Scully," he sighed, completely enchanted by 
her. The feel of her small but supple body pressed so 
tightly against him nearly made his knees buckle. He 
loved her so much, wanted her so badly. He prayed- and 
he was not a praying man- that she wanted him, too. 
Hoping that her mother and the rest of her family were 
preoccupied in the kitchen, sure that Skinner wouldn't 
call up out of the blue to wish them a Merry Christmas, 
knowing that the Cigarette Smoking Man had better 
things to do than spy on two, little insignificant peons on 
a holiday, and aware that bees weren't too common in the 
dead of winter, Mulder's face drew closer to his 
beloved's.

"Christmas tradition," she said again, her voice 
barely a whisper, her eyes closing as her lips parted to 
meet his...

They weren't even a centimeter apart when they 
heard someone shout, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!"

Scully's eyes flew opened and she turned her head 
towards the entryway and Mulder ended up kissing her 
cheek. Then he, too, turned to see Bill Scully, Jr. standing 
in the foyer, still shivering from the outdoor, winter cold, 
and sporting a look that held less warmth and humanity 
than Mulder had seen in the flukeman's eyes all those 
years ago. The guy's fists were clenched at his sides, and 
he looked like he was just itching to pound the shit out of 
someone... that someone being a certain Fox Mulder.

Mulder gulped and feared that Scully's earlier 
proclamation that her mother adored him might change 
dramatically if he ended up in fisticuffs with her son at 
her home on Christmas day. He vowed to himself not to 
lay a hand on the seething man. Even if Bill decided to 
beat him to a bloody pulp, he would not fight back. He 
did not want to upset Mrs. Scully or his darling partner.

It was only then that Mulder noticed how tense 
and angry the woman still standing in his arms was 
getting. He gulped again. Scully was the sweetest person 
alive, but he also knew her temper was downright 
dangerous! Was this something that ran in the family? 
Was Bill just as bad? Worse? What if something happened 
between brother and sister? What if Bill got into it with 
Scully and it came to blows? If the large man laid one 
hand on his sister, or hurt her in anyway, Mulder knew 
he was going to have to break his earlier promise not to 
fight Bill. He didn't care that Scully's brother was 
somewhat taller and quite a bit bulkier than he. If the jerk 
did anything to his woman, then he would be forced to 
kick his ass!

"What the hell is your problem, Bill?" Scully 
demanded of her brother, her pretty, blue eyes shooting 
daggers at the man. Mulder had attempted to pull away 
from Scully, in order to make himself into a barrier 
between her and her livid sibling, but she had a very tight 
grip on his arm, keeping him close. When he stopped 
struggling against her, her grip loosened and nearly 
turned into a caress, which surprised him that she could 
be so tender with him, while still seething at her brother.

When Bill took a threatening step towards the 
couple, Scully did let go of Mulder's arm, but only to 
stand in front of her partner. It was a protective action 
that touched his heart and would have had him sighing 
sweetly at her if he hadn't been so concerned for her own 
safety. Still, he realized she knew her brother much better 
than he did. Perhaps this was all a bluff.

"What's the matter, Mulder, you sorry son-of-a-
bitch?" Bill taunted him, continuing his slow, deliberate 
pace, coming ever closer. "You scared, asshole? Do you 
always hide behind my baby sister for protection?"

Mulder said nothing, he only stood, rim-rod 
straight and ready to pounce should the need arise. He 
was somewhat distracted by the fact that Scully was 
currently in the line of fire between the two men. She 
wanted to get in the middle of this, despite Mulder's not 
wanting her to get hurt. He blinked back a few tears. How 
the hell had they gone from playing Trivial Pursuit, telling 
X-Files stories and indulging in mistletoe fantasies to this 
barbaric display of testosterone induced aggression? He 
could feel the heat of battle coming off of his little partner 
in waves. He'd seen her take down men twice her size. He 
didn't want to have to witness her getting into a fistfight 
with her own brother. Realizing that when he was angry 
and out of control, just her simple touch could relax him, 
calm him, he wondered if he had the same effect on her. 
Reaching a shaky, tentative hand out, he rested it upon 
her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

Scully did relax slightly under his touch, and she 
glanced back at him with a loyal, fiercely protective gaze, 
underscored by equally fierce love. Then she returned her 
attention to her advancing brother. "Back off," she 
warned him.

Bill had noticed the subtle touch between them, 
saw how Mulder merely putting a hand on her shoulder 
had affected her. It made him grit his teeth and contort his 
features with fury. "No, he needs to back off!" he spat.

"Don't even talk to him, Bill," Scully hissed, getting 
her Irish up. "This is none of your damn business!"

"Like hell it isn't!" Bill, Jr. stammered in disbelief. 
"This guy has been fucking up my family for too long. 
And now it looks like he's just plain fucking my sister!" He 
lunged.

Before Mulder could do anything, Scully advanced, 
stopping her brother in his tracks. She pushed him back 
with a strength that truly surprised the naval officer. For 
being the runt of the litter, she had a lot more power 
behind her than he would have thought possible. Even 
angry with her, Bill felt a surge of pride over his little 
sister's ability to hold her own against him. She really had 
grown into a fine, strong woman... too bad her taste in 
men sucked!

"Scully," Mulder said gently, his voice calm and 
soothing, "I... I don't want you to fight with your brother. 
If he wants to start something with me, then maybe we 
should just... just step outside." He sighed, not thinking 
there was any way out of this that wouldn't lead to 
violence. He would just rather none of that violence 
touched his partner at all. He would go outside with Bill 
in the cold. He would let the man beat the shit out of him. 
He would ask for a towel to clean himself with, then beg 
Maggie's forgiveness that he had to leave, because 
something had come up. Then he would kiss the woman 
he loved on the forehead and hail a cab back to 
Alexandria, and eat a TV dinner alone...

"Oh, you better believe I want to start something, 
you fucker," Bill confirmed, raising a fist in Mulder's 
general direction.  

Grabbing his fist and twisting it deftly behind his 
back- a testament to that wonderful FBI training- Scully 
whispered menacingly into her brother's ear. "If you 
touch him, Bill, if you harm one hair on his head, I will 
knock you out where you stand!"

Slowly, she released him and backed away, 
bumping into Mulder's chest. Both men were completely 
stunned into silence, by her words and actions, albeit for 
very different reasons. Bill rubbed at his sore arm, unable 
to fathom that his sister would choose a loser over her 
own flesh and blood. Mulder set his hands upon her 
shoulders, massaging them ever so slightly, shocked that 
she would choose a loser like him over her own flesh and 
blood. Then again, perhaps their reasons weren't so 
different after all.

And of course, this was when Margaret Scully 
walked in. "Oh, Bill, there you are. And I was looking for 
the two of you," she laughed, wagging a playful finger at 
her daughter and her partner. "Dinner is ready and on the 
table. We were just waiting for you all and..." She 
paused, glancing between her son and her daughter. They 
had done their best to mask the anger and hostility they 
currently harbored for one another- as well as Bill's 
outright hatred for Mulder- but she had known each of 
these people since the day they were born. She had raised 
them, taken care of them and loved them unconditionally 
their entire lives. She also knew when they were trying to 
hide something. "What's going on?" she asked pointedly. 
Maggie glanced at Mulder but his face was unreadable. 
She then stared at Dana with concern, before settling her 
focus on her hotheaded oldest child.

Scully looked back at Mulder's blank face for a 
moment- recognized that it was his panic face- and then 
turned back to her mother, her eyes suddenly going 
bright and sunny. She managed an innocent smile that 
didn't really fool any of the other people in the room, as 
they all knew her too well. "Nothing's going on, Mom," 
she said. "I was... just about to do this, actually..." She 
leaned back into Mulder, reaching behind her to grab his 
head and haul him closer. She refrained from engaging in 
the hot, gooey romantic lip lock she had envisioned 
experiencing with him until her stupid brother ruined the 
moment, but when she smacked her lips on his cheek, 
they were moist and open. 

Mulder audibly gasped, and his eyes involuntarily 
closed. Leave it to his beautiful partner to turn him on 
with a kiss on the cheek in front of her mom and brother. 
He had to make sure she was directly in front of him now. 
Didn't want anyone- especially Bill- to see the residual 
effects on him her kiss had wrought.

Bill, however, knew exactly what was going on, 
and if his mother hadn't been in the room, protective 
Dana or no, he would have thrown that fucking son-of-a-
bitch out through the damn window! He glowered at the 
man, while his mom's attention was drawn elsewhere.

"Mistletoe," Scully was saying, as her mother 
appeared ecstatic to have witnessed such an act of 
intimacy between her daughter and the man she loved. 
She may have been only a mom, but she knew desire when 
she saw it and she saw that it was ebbing and flowing 
freely between the two partners.

"Of course," Maggie agreed, delightedly. "It is a 
Christmas tradition!" She walked over and kissed Dana's 
cheek, before reaching up further to peck Mulder's. She 
purposely avoided looking anywhere in the general 
vicinity of the man's crotch, but she needn't have worried. 
Mulder's arousal over Scully's kiss was effectively 
obliterated by her brother's look of pure hatred.

"Thanks, Mrs. Scully," he said, after receiving a 
kiss. He was pretty sure he was blushing.

"Come on, gang," the lady of the house exclaimed, 
"let's go have dinner now, shall we?"

"Sounds good," Bill said woodenly.

"Sounds delicious!" Dana amended, one-upping 
her brother yet again. She took Mulder by the hand, 
leading him down the hall. "You hungry, Mulder?"

"Starved!" he exclaimed. "Especially for Maggie 
Scully's cooking!" He grinned at both women, although, 
in truth, his stomach was in such knots from all the drama 
before, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to eat much of 
anything.

Still, he reasoned as he and Scully joined the family 
at the table, and as he held hers and Maggie's hands with 
his head bowed low during the pre-dinner prayer, Scully 
picked me over Bill. She made that very clear to both of us. 
Maybe she really does love me. Maybe that means this is really 
going to happen someday. Maybe that's the best Christmas gift 
I could ever hope to get...



Scene Thirteen: "When Mulder 
Met Scully... And Pissed Her Off!" 
[Rated PG-13]

May 1999
Memorial Hospital, North Carolina
7:13 p.m.

After a myriad of tests and getting poked and 
prodded more than she had ever cared to be, Scully was 
being wheeled down to her room by an orderly. She had 
been admitted to the hospital immediately upon arrival, 
and after checking her vitals, making sure she was stable, 
she'd been bathed hastily by three nurses, all of them 
wrinkling their nose and nearly gagging at the putrid 
smell of the mushroom's slimy residue. Then, she had 
been put on the slab and all the doctors did their thing. 
Once she was given the prognosis, "you'll live," she was 
finally given a reprieve from people swabbing her and 
jabbing her and peering over her, and was put into a 
wheelchair and taken to her room.

All through her ordeal, no matter how exhausting 
and humiliating the entire experience was, her thoughts 
remained tuned in on her partner, hoping that he was all 
right, as well. She had asked about him repeatedly, but no 
one seemed able to give her a definitive answer, which 
worried her. She hadn't seen him since they'd been taken 
out of the ambulance and whisked away in different 
directions.

The male orderly taking her to her room, a very 
young man with wavy brown hair, a sweet smile and a 
twinkle in his dark eyes, flirted with her shamelessly all 
the way down the hall. She was flattered and didn't nip 
his amorous affections in the bud, like she usually would 
have. For one thing, she was just too damn exhausted to 
do much of anything that required any sort of effort, 
either physical or mental. Plus, there was the fact that her 
hair was a mess, she was wearing not a smear of make-up 
and she was pretty sure she could still detect the slightest 
hint of the rancid mushroom residue on her person. The 
fact that she looked and felt and smelled that badly and 
still managed to catch the eye of a handsome orderly who 
couldn't have been more than twenty, gave a real boost to 
her ego, which was just what she needed. Both her ego 
and her heart had been pretty sore lately...

Though they had held hands the entire way to the 
hospital, and though, during her hallucinogenic trip, 
courtesy of the mushroom, she had pined away for 
Mulder, thinking he had been killed... their partnership 
hadn't been working on all thrusters lately. Even the 
beginning of this case had put them at odds. She could 
chalk it up to Diana Fowley getting between them, but 
she knew it went deeper than that. Mulder's easy trust in 
that woman had made Scully feel as though the trust he 
had always given to her was threatened. She was 
beginning to think that he would soon outgrow the need 
for her partnership altogether, in favor of Fowley... The 
thought made her involuntarily shiver.

"Are you cold, Dana?" Chad, her young orderly 
asked her as he finished fluffing her pillow for her. 
"Would you like an extra blanket?"

"Oh, no, thank you, I'm fine."

"How's that pillow?" he asked eagerly.

"It's great, thanks."

"Can I get you some water, Dana?"

She swallowed, noticed that her throat was, 
indeed, dry. "Um, sure. That would be nice, Chad."

He offered her a winning smile, and she noticed his 
adorable dimples, then he hastily made his way over to 
the sink in the bathroom, grabbing up a clean Styrofoam 
cup and filling it with some ice water. He stuck a straw in 
it, to make it easier for her to drink, and he held the cup in 
front of her face. "Here you are, Dana."

"Thanks," she said for the countless time and took 
a drink. She had to hold in a chuckle. This boy was really 
trying hard to impress her.

"Did you want to try and eat anything?"

"Mmm, nah, I don't think my stomach can handle 
too much right now," she admitted.

"Want to watch some TV?" he asked.

"No, I'm rather tired. I'll probably just drift off to 
sleep soon. Thanks, anyway."

"Dana...?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to exchange phone numbers?" he 
asked hopefully, his dark eyes turning seductive.

His question caught the G-woman quite by 
surprise. She certainly wasn't expecting this. "Um..."

"Honey, I'm home!" Mulder called from the 
doorway, being wheeled into the room by another orderly 
and glaring pointedly at Chad.

The boy's eyes grew wide in embarrassment and 
fear. "Uh, talk to you later, Dana," he said and as he 
rushed past Mulder, he murmured, "Sorry, dude, but... 
can you blame me?" Mulder continued to glare after the 
boy as he made a hasty retreat.

Scully pretended that she had not seen nor heard 
any of that awkward exchange. She watched in confusion 
as the other orderly, this one quite a few years older than 
Chad, and named Tom, helped Mulder out of his 
wheelchair and into the empty bed just a few feet away 
from her own. Her eyebrow rose high above her eye. This 
seemed... unusual. 

"You need anything, Mr. Mulder?" Tom asked.

"The TV remote?" Mulder replied hopefully. He 
didn't hear Scully sigh wearily.

Tom found it on the small table in between the 
beds and handed it to Mulder. "Here you go. Anything 
else for you, or your lady?"

Scully's eyebrow went up even further, nearly 
disappearing into her hairline. She stared pointedly at 
Mulder, but said nothing, instead waiting to hear his 
reply.

Mulder offered Tom a happy smile. "Nope. I think 
my lady and I are A-okay!" He gave him a friendly 
thumbs up.

"Great. Just buzz if you need anything," and Tom 
left the room.

Smiling after the guy, Mulder turned to face his 
beloved partner. His smile broadened at the sight of her. 
He hadn't seen her since they'd been taken off the 
ambulance and he had been so worried about her, asking 
anyone he could find to check on her for him. No one had 
ever gotten back to him, so seeing her now, looking clean 
and relatively healthy made him very happy. "Hey, 
Scully. You look good. How are you feeling?"

"Your lady?" she questioned him by way of reply. 
"And... why is it we are sharing a room here at the 
hospital?"

Mulder's grin faded and he looked disappointed, 
sad. He shrugged, averting his eyes. "I think Skinner 
requested the shared room," he lied; in all actualities, he 
had arranged for this himself.

"Skinner?" she asked incredulously. "But why? 
Where is he?"

"He's not here anymore, already heading back to 
D.C. upon learning that we weren't in any immediate 
danger. The nurse told me, though. She said that he 
requested this because he thought that we'd be more... 
comfortable if we could convalesce together."

"He did?" she asked, still incredulous.

"Personally," Mulder continued with his ruse, "I 
think it's probably some new, FBI money-saving agenda, 
making partners injured on the job together share a room 
at the hospital... but that's just a guess." He shrugged and 
averted his eyes, knowing that if she peered into them far 
enough, she would know he was pulling this all out of his 
ass.

Luckily for him, she was too tired for such 
scrutiny. She sighed. "Are you serious? Jesus, what's 
next? Making us share motel rooms?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind," he blurted, then could 
have kicked himself, upon seeing the glare she sent his 
way. Apparently, Agent Scully wasn't in the best of 
moods, certainly not in the mood for his usual 
innuendoes, even though this one had been sincere. 
"Well, we have shared a room before and it wasn't all that 
terrible... at least, it wasn't for me!" He folded his arms 
across his chest and diverted his attention to the 
television, which he turned on with a press of a button on 
the remote and quickly found ESPN.

"I didn't mean it that way," she admitted 
begrudgingly, still a little bewildered by Skinner's strange 
request and not feeling entirely comfortable about this 
situation she had found herself in at all. "And it wasn't 
terrible for me, either. I- I guess I'm just surprised to find 
us sharing a room..."

"Do you want me to request a transfer to another 
room?" he asked, sighing wearily, and sounding more 
than a little hurt.

"Of course not," she told him gently, although she 
honestly felt weird about him being in here with her like 
this, both of them so unavoidably vulnerable at this time. 
She realized that things were kind of... sensitive between 
them right now, what with the arguing, the whole Diana 
Fowley thing, and the pressures all of that had put on not 
only their professional partnership, but their personal 
friendship as well. The wedge between them had been 
growing steadily for months now and it made their 
interactions so strained, sometimes nearly unbearable. 
That didn't mean she still didn't love and adore the man, 
but she couldn't help the way she felt. "We'll be fine in 
here," she reiterated, as if trying to convince herself more 
than he.

He picked up on that right away, even if he didn't 
directly call her on it. Instead, he went with, "Yeah, you 
want to keep me close to make sure I don't refuse to take 
my medication or give the hospital staff a hard time." He 
looked more than a little sulky.

She did not want to start an argument with him. 
Especially in light of the fact they would be sharing a 
room, in close quarters for God-knows-how-long. Her 
tone gentle, her expression meandering towards 
affectionate, she replied, "Or maybe I want to keep you 
close because you're my best friend and you mean a lot to 
me and I want to make sure you're getting the best 
possible care during your stay here."

They were silent for awhile, Mulder seemingly 
mulling over her kindly words. Then...

"Nah, it's probably more for the first reason."

Scully groaned and rolled her eyes. He was going 
to make things as difficult as possible, she imagined. Well, 
two could play at that game... "Mulder, change the 
channel. See if you can find CNN."

He made a snoring sound. "BORING!!!"

"Since when is the news boring?" she asked 
haughtily.

"Since I don't feel like watching it while I'm stuck 
in a damn hospital for an indefinite amount of time. 
What's wrong with ESPN?"

"Talk about BORING!!!" she retorted, almost 
feeling like she was ten-years-old again, and arguing with 
one of her siblings. "Come on, Mulder, give me the 
remote!" She held out a demanding hand to him, her 
fingers gesturing for him to give her the object in 
question.

He smirked. As if! As cute as she was, she was not 
getting the damn remote. This was a battle of the wills 
now. And, although he knew if anyone was smarter than 
he, it would have to be her, he was better able to annoy 
her into oblivion than she could do to him. He didn't 
know what that said about him. Am I the more annoying 
between us? Damn straight! Just ask Skinner... or Kersch... or 
anyone that's ever met the two of us... And he was about to 
demonstrate this fact to its extreme. "Hang on a second, 
Scully, I want to see if they get the Playboy Channel. Want 
to watch a dirty movie with me?" he asked, waggling his 
eyebrows at her.

"No, I don't, actually," she retorted, her eyes 
narrowing in a way that meant she was truly annoyed. 
"And especially not where someone could just walk in at 
any given moment. Besides, I highly doubt a hospital is 
going to offer the Playboy Channel to its patients, anyway."

"So... if we were hanging out at my house and no 
one else was around, would you-"

"No!" she snapped, beyond irritated now. She 
looked away from him, staring wistfully out the window.

Suddenly pissing off his partner not only seemed a 
lot less fun than he had initially imagined, but also not a 
very good idea. Mulder gave her a close look, feeling 
frustrated that she could not see into her eyes. He loved 
her beautiful, blue eyes, felt like he could drown in them. 
And he willingly would, whenever given the chance. But 
she had taken such a chance away by facing the opposite 
way. Despite the fact she was guarding herself from him, 
he could tell by her body language that anger was not her 
chief emotion right now. It wasn't just him being a turd at 
her; no, there was more to it. She looked almost... sad. He 
hated to see her sad. It made him feel the same, only 
tenfold. 

He decided to offer her just the tiniest olive branch. 
"I could... look for a nice romance movie?" he offered.

"No, thank you," she stated flatly, turning on her 
side. She pulled the covers up around her shoulders. The 
simple act had a look of finality to it that didn't set well 
with him at all.

That did it for Mulder. Perhaps he should re-think 
about which of them could claim the prize for most 
irritating. Scully had the ability to irritate him like no 
other! "Oh, what's the matter, Scully?" he snapped 
defensively. "Is it the company you're keeping? Would 
you rather watch one with Chad?" 

She could hear the sneer in his tone when he 
uttered the orderly's name. This was definitely top-
blowing material he was hitting her with and she 
mentally counted to ten, trying her damndest not to leap 
the distance between them and start strangling her 
partner there in the hospital room. Besides, she mused 
darkly, it would be a pointless act considering where we are. 
They would only revive him... "Mulder," she asked, trying 
to keep her voice as neutral as possible, "can you please 
tell me what you're rambling on about?"

"Well, you two certainly seemed pretty chummy," 
he muttered, now refusing to look at her as well. He 
stared intensely at the TV screen, seemingly mesmerized 
by the baseball scores.

"Mulder," she sighed wearily, still pretending to 
gaze out the window, "he was my orderly. He was simply 
doing his job. Trying to make me comfortable, just as Tom 
did for you."

"Yeah, well," he snapped, "I don't recall Tom 
asking for my fucking phone number!"

Scully's eyes went wide and she turned to look at 
him in spite of herself. Obviously Mulder had a real 
problem with Chad's unwanted intentions.  Even though 
she and Mulder couldn't be considered a couple in any 
traditional sense, she admitted there was this... unspoken 
promise between them that even she herself had trouble 
defining. Of course, this unspoken promise hadn't 
stopped Mulder from running off with Diana Fowley 
whenever he wanted! She felt her body begin to shake in 
pure, genuine anger. That wasn't the point. Or, was it? 
She didn't even know anymore. Mulder seemed to be 
unfairly one-sided when it came to breaking the rules of 
their silent pact. He could take off on a whim, whether 
with old girlfriends or not. He was allowed to get angry 
and possessive if someone gave her any attention, not 
even bothering to stop and reason that any attention from 
anyone but himself would be unwanted to her. Could the 
man be any more dense?

"I didn't give him my damn number, Mulder," she 
replied, valiantly trying to keep her Irish temper in check.

"Only because I walked in before you had the 
chance to," he countered, the green-eyed monster clearly 
peeking out from within. He looked like he was ready to 
rumble.

"I wouldn't have, anyway," she hissed in 
perturbation.

"Why not?" he challenged in a nasty tone, realizing 
he was goading her, making her angry, not wanting to, 
but seemingly unable to stop himself. "Why not hook up 
with some young hunk, Scully? I'm sure he could have 
given you a run for your money!"

"Just what the hell are you insinuating?" she 
finally erupted, just as he knew she would under his 
abrasive ministrations to her last nerve. "Money? Do you 
think I could only get a man if I paid him, Mulder?" She 
was staring at him, her blue eyes burning like flame, her 
chest heaving in rage.

Fuck, he thought, wondering just why he was such 
a glutton for punishment. She's gonna beat the living shit out 
of me... not that I wasn't asking for it. At least I'm at a 
hospital. I'm sure if she strangles me, someone will revive me... 
And onward he surged. "That's not what I meant," he 
assured her. Even though they were fighting and he was 
going for some kind of world record for pissing off one's 
partner, he did not want to start into another argument 
due to simple misunderstanding. "I just meant that you 
and he... that he'd be... you would..." He stuttered, not 
able to verbalize a coherent explanation.

"Not that it matters, anyway," she went on, 
completely ignoring his silly outburst. "I don't live in the 
same city as he, I don't have much time for dating- 
especially if it's meaningless. And I wouldn't go out with 
him, regardless! Jesus, he's barely older than my 
nephews, for crying out loud!"

"So..." Mulder mumbled, feeling sheepish and 
contrite, "you still could have had him, Scully. A beautiful 
woman like you could have any man you wanted..." He 
looked down at his hands. Not so long ago, he imagined 
that he and Scully were close to crossing the line into the 
only intimacy between them they had so far left 
undiscovered. But things had been so tense lately at work, 
and between them as friends, he had begun to think he 
had ruined his chances with her. If that were true, he 
certainly couldn't begrudge her a chance with someone 
else that might make her happy, even if he knew he 
would automatically hate that person and wish him dead 
on a daily basis.

Scully blushed, then stared down at her own 
hands. She felt less sure of her chances with Mulder now 
more than ever. How can I have any man I want when the 
only man I want is trying to pawn me off to some teenage 
orderly? Maybe Diana Fowley truly had come between 
them. Maybe it wouldn't be long until Mulder announced 
that Diana would become his partner down in the 
basement, or, even worse, his partner in life. How would 
she handle that? Could she even handle it? She didn't 
know if she would ever be able to face Mulder after a 
catastrophe like that, let alone handle it.

"Can we just drop it, Mulder?" she pleaded sadly. 
"I'm not interested in him at all, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed softly, equally sad.

They kept silent for a long while again, Mulder 
pretending to watch ESPN, Scully pretending not to care. 
Perhaps them sharing a room truly was not a good idea...

Scully looked out the window awhile longer, but it 
only depressed her because she was stuck in a hospital 
room and not allowed to venture outside at all. Then she 
tried to watch the television, but all the sports score 
information was boring her to no end. She figured her 
best bet would just be to fall asleep. Nothing else 
productive to do, and anyway, she was so exhausted. 
Being slowly digested by a giant mushroom will do that to you, 
she mused sleepily and her eyes started to drift close... 
but only for a moment. 

Sensing movement, Scully's eyes shot open and her 
addled brain brought up memories of when Mulder was 
lying in a hospital bed, strapped down and almost 
attacked by what he determined to be a large bug-like 
creature and... Nope, no giant bugs, just Mulder painfully 
making his way out of his bed, struggling to remain 
standing.

"Mulder!" she gasped, fearing that he might fall 
and hurt himself. If he felt even half as bad as she did, 
then he was in no condition to be jumping out of his bed 
without assistance. "Mulder, get back in bed. If you need 
to use the facilities, then call an orderly."

"What? And risk getting Chad?" he teased her. He 
still sneered at the mention of his name, but his tone was 
generally much more pleasant than before. "Besides, I'm 
not planning on going far."

"Well, where are you going?" she asked, watching 
him with baited breath as he painfully walked the three 
feet to get from his own bedside to hers. He handed her 
the remote, held onto her bed railing to keep himself 
upright. She sighed. "Mulder, what is it?" Though she 
was still harboring some anger towards him, her concern 
for him won out and she rested a steadying hand on his 
arm.

Taking her hand off of his arm and entwining her 
fingers in his, he said, "I'm sorry, Scully, for being the 
biggest ass to the best partner and friend I've ever had." 
He offered her his most pathetic, puppy dog expression.

Damn, not the puppy dog eyes! Why does he have to 
give me the puppy dog eyes? I can never resist that! "Oh, 
Mulder... it's all right. And... I'm sorry, too," she replied, 
looking contrite as well.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," he told her. 
"I'm the one who was being a jerk."

"That's true," she agreed, and he balked, until he 
saw her impish grin. "But I'm sure I could have been 
more... pleasant."

"That's true," he teased right back, and she made a 
face at him. "Can we start over, maybe?" he asked 
hopefully.

"What do you mean?"

He raised her hand to his lips, gave it a quick kiss. 
"Hey, Scully. You look good. How are you feeling?"

Scully smiled, quickly catching on. This time, 
instead of complaining about his presence, she said, "I'm 
feeling... not so great, but I'm okay, and improving. You 
look good, too, Mulder, especially considering you were 
almost a mushroom's lunch. How are you feeling?"

"Better than that damn mushroom," he cracked, 
before adding, in all sincerity, "and better now that I 
know I've been forgiven." He leaned forward to kiss the 
tip of her nose. Then he reached up and ran his fingers 
through her messy hair. "How's about that 'shroom, 
Scully? Usually we eat them, not the other way around."

She chuckled, leaning against the hand currently 
massaging her hair and the side of her face, craving his 
touch. "Yeah, I'd love to cut up that damn thing and serve 
it on a million pizzas!"

Mulder laughed as well. "Mmm, pizza! I wonder 
what kind of shit they'll make us eat while we're stuck 
here," he sighed, hoping it would not be for too long, 
despite the fact that they were in such close quarters. He 
dropped his hand from her face, and hoped that, for the 
length of their stay, he would be able to abstain from 
annoying his partner too much... or from having any sexy 
dreams about her. He'd been told through the years that 
he talked in his sleep.

Scully grabbed his hand again, gave it a tug 
towards her. "Mulder, come here."

"Why?" he challenged, still somewhat afraid that 
she might be harboring a grudge.

"Because I want to hug you," she informed him in 
no uncertain terms.

Before she realized what he was doing, Mulder had 
hopped up on her bed, wrapping his arms around her 
and crowding close. He kissed the top of her head. 
"Mmm," he murmured into her hair, so glad to be 
holding her, "Scully hugs are the best kind of hugs."

Knowing he couldn't see her reaction as her face 
was pressed against his chest, she smiled, warming at the 
compliment and the embrace. "Awful tight fit here, 
Mulder."

"That's okay, Scully. We guys like tight fits," he 
leered.

Because of her position, he thankfully could not see 
her blushing furiously after hearing his latest and greatest 
innuendo. "Lovely, Mulder," she said, trying to keep her 
voice on an even keel, trying not to betray her amorous 
feelings for him.

"We shared a bed in Kroner, remember?" he asked, 
recalling the recent case where they were investigating 
Daryl Mootz, a real idiot who had coined himself The Rain 
King.

"Yes, I remember, but that was a double bed," she 
reminded him, recalling that sleeping beside him those 
few nights had been both heavenly and torturous at the 
same time. "This is a hospital bed, which doesn't even 
have the width of a twin size."

Mulder pressed his warm, sensual lips against the 
shell of her ear. "I like being close with you this way, 
Scully. But I'll move if you want me to."

Too embarrassed to say that she wanted him to 
stay, she instead wrapped her arms tightly, possessively 
about his waist by way of reply, resting her head against 
his shoulder and breathing drowsily against his neck.

He smiled, thrilled beyond compare that she was 
allowing him to stay in her bed, and astounded that she 
even wanted him there at all, especially after the way he 
had been acting since joining her in the room. "Want to 
watch some TV?" he asked. "I'll put on CNN..." he 
offered, another olive branch.

How did he get the remote back, she wondered 
sleepily. "Nah, I'm too tired for news," she yawned into 
his face. "What about that romantic movie?"

"What romantic movie?" he teased. "You mean 
like, When Mulder Met Scully..."

"... and Pissed Her Off," she added with a sleepy 
chuckle.

"... and Pissed Her Off," he amended, chuckling as 
well, flipping through channels. "Nope, sorry, that's not 
available right now. But that's okay, seeing as how we 
live that movie every day, huh?"

"No, Mulder," she assured him, "you don't piss me 
off everyday."

"Thanks."

"It's more of a weekly occurrence, I'd say."

"Ooh, burn!" he snickered. "And for that remark, I 
think I'll look for some porn!"

"No, no porn," she instructed. "Just turn off the TV 
and let's go to sleep. Aren't you exhausted? I know I'm 
exhausted..." She sounded like she was already drifting 
off.

"Yeah, okay," he muttered playfully, hitting the 
power button on the remote and setting it on the small 
table in between their beds. Then he turned off the light 
with the controller hooked to the bed. He snuggled 
against her. "Aw, Scully, you're even cuddlier than a 
teddy bear."

"Very funny," she grumbled, more than half-
asleep.

"Although..." his tired mind started to wander, "I 
bet you would look hot wearing a teddy."

"Shut up, Mulder."

"'Night, Scully," he yawned, kissing her sleepy, 
little face.

"'Nigh... Mul...ler..."

He chuckled a moment, listening to her snore 
against him, before the soft sound lulled him off to sleep.

*    *    *

Thirty minutes later, Chad the orderly returned to 
the partners' room with a nice, cool soda and his business 
card, with his cell phone number written on the back, for 
Agent Scully. He was hoping she might need him for... 
something and that they might strike up a conversation. A 
lot of that would all depend on if her nosy partner was 
asleep, or willing to keep his rude mouth shut though. He 
had initially assumed they were married or involved, the 
way Mulder had acted, but after reading over their charts, 
he had discovered they were FBI agents and partners. Of 
course, it did strike him as somewhat strange that they 
were listed as each others next of kin and then there was 
the fact that they had indeed requested a room together, 
but he'd heard that law enforcement types usually got 
close to their partners. That didn't mean they were in love 
or sleeping together, right?
     
He stood in the doorway, straining his eyes to see 
in the darkened room. It took him a moment to discern 
the shape on Agent Scully's bed. It seemed a little too 
large to be her. Giving into a brief moment of worry and 
uncertainty, he ventured in closer, only to find Agent 
Mulder shoved in tightly next to her in the tiny space, her 
hands resting placidly on his chest, his arms snaked 
protectively around her shoulders.

With major disappointment, Chad exited the room, 
his handsome, young face positively crestfallen. "Damn," 
he muttered quietly. "And she was so hot, too..."


Scene Fourteen: "Coming Clean" 
[Rated NC-17]

January 2000
Alexandria, Fox Mulder residence
9:17 p.m.

The door to his apartment opened up and Mulder 
flipped on the light switch, then moved aside for Scully to 
enter. He considered resting his hand at his usual spot on 
the small of her back, to lead her into the room, as was 
long since customary by now, but ultimately, he decided 
against it. 

He had heard the medics talking to each other, the 
ones who were wheeling out Pfaster's body on a gurney 
in a body bag. They had checked over Scully before 
messing with the dead piece of shit. They had done so 
automatically, but if they hadn't, Mulder would have 
insisted that Scully be looked after ahead of the body of a 
murderous fucking son-of-a-bitch. But he recalled the 
medics' amazed chatter over how many bruises, scrapes 
and cuts adorned his beautiful partner's small form. If he 
touched her, without knowing where any of her sore 
spots were, he risked hurting her, and he never wanted to 
do that.

Besides, seeing as how she was attacked and nearly 
killed in her home by a mad man less than a few hours 
ago, she may not want to be touched by anyone at all- 

including her partner. The thought made Mulder want to 
cry, but he didn't. As a trained psychologist, he knew 
how vulnerable women could feel after being raped, or 
attacked, especially in the presence of another man, no 
matter how well intentioned he may be. As the man 
closest to his partner, Mulder also knew that Scully hated 
to feel vulnerable, holding vulnerability akin to weakness, 
which was another Scully no-no. If he somehow upset 
her, or triggered something inside of her, causing her to 
lose control, she would most likely be angry with him, 
even enough to the point of leaving, in favor of staying at 
her mother's or a hotel. So, Mulder kept his distance, even 
though that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Mulder set her overnight bag down on the floor 
next to his couch. "Have a seat, Scully," he told her 
gently, but she made no move to do so. He watched her, 
scratching his head, trying to gauge her true feelings, 
trying to figure out what she needed and what he could 
do to help her, make her feel more comfortable. "Um, 
have you had anything to eat?" he tried, reasoning that 
food was not only a necessity, but also a comfort. "I could 
order us something, if you want."

"Thanks, Mulder, but I'm not really hungry right 
now," she murmured, not looking at him, but staring 
straight ahead. Her mind was truly elsewhere.

"Did you want to watch some TV?" he tried again, 
desperate to make her feel at home and give her a sense of 
normalcy. He was desperate to alleviate her fears.

"No, thanks," came the quiet reply.

"Well, did you want to just go to bed, then?" he 
inquired. "I'm sure you must be exhausted, Scully."

"I want to take a shower," she blurted, still not 
looking at him.

"All right, Scully. Whatever you want." He 
thought of the state of his bathroom and his expression 
became slightly embarrassed. "Uh, gotta warn you, 
though, my tub isn't the... cleanest thing in the world right 
now... or ever..."

"That's all right," she said numbly. Normally, such 
an admission from Mulder would have made her groan in 
mock-disgust, or chuckle, or at least smile knowingly at 
him. Maybe come up with some smart-ass retort. But she 
couldn't offer him anything other than a slight nod and a 
blank expression, which was not lost on Mulder.

"Come on, I'll get you a clean towel and a wash 
cloth," he told her, urging her to follow him down the 
hallway. He moved to touch her, an instinctual gesture 
for him by now, but stopped himself before the 
movement became too obvious. He wanted nothing more 
than to take her into his loving, protective arms, hold her 
against his larger form, kissing her about the face. He 
longed to comfort her and tell her everything was going 
to be all right, even though he knew he couldn't truly 
promise her such a thing. But Scully was so hard to read 
sometimes, never more so than when she was hurt, either 
physically or emotionally. Since this occurrence had her 
smarting both ways, she was twice as hard to reach out to. 
Mulder loved her like no other, but he knew from past 
experience, it was better to just give her some space. If she 
needed comfort and reassurance, it had to be on her own 
terms, in her own time.

They walked down the hallway together, even 
though she, of course, knew exactly where his bathroom 
was, and exactly where he kept his linens. He briefly 
stopped at the small cupboard in the hall, where he 
grabbed a faded wash cloth- they were all like that- and 
the fluffiest towel that he owned, which, admittedly, 
wasn't very fluffy at all.

"Sorry, Scully," he apologized, as he handed her 
the items. "I know this is kind of thread-bare..."

"No, it's fine, Mulder, thank you." She clutched the 
items closely against her chest, then ventured passed him, 
through his bedroom and into the bathroom, closing the 
door behind her.

Mulder followed after her, saw the door close 
without another glimpse of her, which reminded him 
entirely too much of their relationship in general. Shutting 
me out again, he thought sadly, sitting down upon his bed. 
They had been growing closer lately, in a decidedly 
romantic way. Ever since that New Year's Eve kiss, he had 
been ever so gently and carefully pushing forward into 
her life, taking up even more of her time- in a purely 
nonprofessional way- invading her personal space, 
offering more touches, hugs, caresses, kisses... Oh, God, 
those succulent kisses! God, her succulent lips that give those 
succulent kisses!

He heard the shower come on, and then the door 
opened a crack, causing him to sit up in alert.

"Mulder?" Scully called to him, sounding 
somewhat shy.

The man was off the bed and at the other side of 
that door before she could even finish saying his name. 
"What is it, Scully? Do you need anything?" he asked 
anxiously.

"Um, I didn't bring any clothes in here to change 
into," she explained sheepishly.

"No problem, I'll go get your overnight bag and-"

"I..." and she paused for a moment. He waited her 
reply on baited breath. "Could I just borrow something of 
yours?" she asked quietly.

"Uh..." His first thought was that her request 
turned him on. The idea of the woman he loved parading 
around his apartment in his own clothing... The second 
thought was that her request warmed his heart. Perhaps 
wearing something of his would make her feel protected, 
safe. The third thought regarding her request was that it 
was a little unusual to say the least, especially for Scully. 
But he would have done or given her anything to make 
her feel better. "Of course, Scully," he readily agreed. 
"How about a tee shirt and some jogging pants?"

"That's good, thanks."

"Great, okay, I'll go get them," he began, but she 
had shut the door on him again. He could tell though that 
she hadn't locked it this time. He assumed she would be 
waiting for him to bring her what she had requested 
before doing so. With a sigh, he retrieved the sought after 
items from his dresser then returned to the door, using his 
knuckles to lightly rap upon the wood. "Scully?"

She opened the door just a crack again, and one of 
her small, pale hands darted out and grabbed his offering. 
He couldn't help but notice all of the cuts criss-crossing 
over that beautiful hand. It made him wince. Thankfully, 
she hadn't seen him.

"Thank you," she called softly, and he could barely 
hear her.

"You're welcome," he called back, much louder so 
that she would hear him as she shut the door in his face 
for the third time in as many minutes. Still, he noticed that 
she hadn't bothered locking it this time either. That was a 
little curious.

With a weary groan, Mulder sat down right there 
on the nondescript carpeting in his bedroom, his back 
leaning against the bathroom door. Jesus, I really almost 
lost her this time, his harried mind sobbed in dismay. He 
had come so close to losing her too many times, really, 
but if she had died at the hands of that fucking bastard, 
waste-of-space, Donnie Pfaster... He shuddered, unable 
to even finish the thought.

Up until this point, their lives had been balancing 
precariously on the edge of change. Back in October, 
Scully had asked him to father her child through invitro 
fertilization. By November, they had learned it hadn't 
worked. They had spent Thanksgiving together at her 
mother's house, where he finally got to meet the elusive 
Charlie Scully. He remembered how Scully had so 
proudly brought him right up into Mulder's face, proving 
to him, once and for all, that Charlie did, indeed, exist. 
The thought made him smile. Christmas was supposed to 
have been spent together, but he had fallen ill and rather 
than make Scully miss her plans with her family, he lied 
and told her that his own mother had invited him to stay 
with her at the last minute. He knew it had disappointed 
her, but he didn't want her spending Christmas with him 
in a hospital, worrying about him, when she could be 
having fun with her family, whom she rarely got to see. 
She had not fought him over this, considering she herself 
knew how strained relations were between Mulder and 
his mother, and she hoped that their time spent together 
would give them a chance to really talk, maybe work 
things out between them. She never knew, of course, that 
he'd spent the better part of a week in the hospital, having 
tests run.

Just before New Year's, they had a case involving 
zombies, the millennium curse and meeting the strange 
fellow, Frank Black. By the time the case was through, on 
the eve of the year 2000, the zombies had been stopped, 
Frank Black had been reunited with his daughter, Scully's 
neck had been gnawed on and Mulder's arm broken, and 
he finally braved up enough to kiss her- on the lips!- and 
the world didn't end. He had kissed her just after they 
had watched the ball drop in Time Square, on Dick Clark's 
Rocking New Year's in a hospital waiting room. Not exactly 
a romantic atmosphere and the kiss itself had been rather 
chaste, although still sweet. But that one, simple kiss had 
opened the floodgates, as it were, and Mulder and Scully 
found themselves on a whole new level into their 
beautiful partnership.

That had been a scant two weeks ago, but he had 
been kissing her ever since. Finally, their relationship was 
progressing, and not at a snail's pace. Maybe a turtle's 
pace, but certainly not as slow as a snail! He had kissed 
her every night since that night, always coming over to 
her place after work, and making sure they kissed before 
he left. Just a few days ago, they had both grown rather 
bold and made out on her couch in front of her fire place 
for an hour... until Skinner had called, reminding them 
about the mandatory meeting they were required to attend, 
first thing in the morning. That kind of soured the mood, 
but he still made sure to collect his kiss from her at the 
end of the evening. Things were moving right along... 
until two occurrences happened.

The first came just yesterday, when the hospital 
had called with the results of all their tests from his 
Christmas stay with them. He learned that he had some 
sort of neurological disorder. He'd been referred to a 
specialist, whom he'd already made an appointment 
with- which was difficult, seeing as he and Scully spent 
nearly every waking moment together now- but the 
doctor from the hospital had said that the type of disorder 
he believed that Mulder had did not have a very 
encouraging prognosis. Typically, people who got this 
disorder died within five to ten years after being 
diagnosed. 

The second grave occurrence had been the escape 
of Donnie Pfaster, from prison, subsequently followed by 
his attack on Scully and her killing of him. That, of course, 
just happened tonight.

Mulder did not tell Scully about his own possible 
bad news. She had enough to deal with right now. He 
could imagine how horrible that would be... him saying, 
"Scully, I know you're feeling scared and upset and 
wondering if you did the right thing, blowing Pfaster 
away, but I'm sure it was meant to be, and oh, by the way, 
I have some weird neurological disorder that will 
probably kill me within the next decade or so." He didn't 
want to talk about it until he got the facts from this 
specialist anyway. Who knows? Maybe there was some 
sort of treatment or medication or- and he hoped it 
wouldn't come to this- some miracle surgery that could 
help him. He was almost certain the reason for this 
disease had something to do with the fucking Cigarette 
Smoking Man and the surgeries he had subjected him to, 
but he couldn't say for sure until he discussed things with 
this doctor.

He blew out a breath of defeat. Would this world 
ever treat he and Scully right? Now, he had no idea if they 
would ever have the chance to live the kind of life 
together that he so desperately needed them to. He 
thought that Scully was leaning towards wanting that 
same life with him together. She'd been hinting at it now 
for over a year. She wanted a normal life. Mulder could 
only pray that she wanted that life with him. But now, 
who knows...?

There was a good chance that that rat-fuck, son-of-
a-bitch, Donald Addie Pfaster had taken the last shred of 
Scully's sense of normalcy and need for love into death 
right along with him. He hoped not. Not only for her own 
sake, but for their sake, if they were ever going to have a 
chance to thrive together as a couple, for however long 
fate might give them.

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Mulder rested 
his chin upon one of them, looking as forlorn as a man 
could look. Things were always so bleak for him, and he 
feared that he had forever doomed Scully, the one person 
he loved above all else, to the same fate.

"Mulder!"

Jumping up in alarm and banging his head on the 
back of the door, Mulder ignored the pain, heeding the 
call of his beloved, bursting through the bathroom door 
and racing over to the tub. "Scully? Is everything... are 
you okay?" he asked breathlessly.

She did not answer, but he heard a small whimper, 
coming from inside the tub behind the shower curtain, 
barely discernible over the spray of the water. He felt the 
fear bubbling in his stomach, threatening to spew bile up 
to his throat. Why wouldn't she answer? "Scully?" he 
asked again, daring to slowly pull back the curtain.

He found her standing out of the line of the water 
spray, naked as the day she was born, her thin arms 
folded protectively over her chest. She was shivering and 
her small, beautiful body was absolutely riddled with 
cuts, bruises and abrasions. The sight of her injuries 
caused Mulder to feel renewed rage and hatred for the 
monster that had just died in her apartment hours before. 
It made him want to cry, to know how much she was 
hurting. But he did not blanch or recoil from her visage. 
There was nothing that could diminish her lovely form in 
his eyes. No way, not ever!

Mulder had seen her naked before, of course, on a 
couple other occasions. And just like now, they were 
usually under... less than desirable circumstances, 
without much chance to make it an erotic experience. As 
always, when gazing at her nude body, he had to steel 
himself to separate his very male appreciation of her 
loveliness from his very real concern for her. Giving her 
as much dignity as possible, Mulder gazed up at her 
sweet face, which was currently looking pained and full 
of fear and uncertainty.

"The spray of the water stings, Mulder," she 
murmured, looking at him, seemingly not embarrassed in 
the slightest to be standing naked before him.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he apologized sympathetically. 
"Would you rather take a ba-" he began, sharply cutting 
short his own sentence. How could he be so stupid to 
almost suggest she take a bath after what she'd just been 
through? After what they both knew Pfaster had almost 
done to her?

Scully knew what he'd been about to say. She took 
no offense and offered him a small smile. "It's all right, 
Mulder. I know I have to get over this." She sighed 
wearily, wiping at the water dripping down in her eyes 
from her wet hair. "Jesus, after being attacked in 
bathrooms so many times, you'd think I'd be terrified to 
step foot in one."

"Yeah," he murmured softly. Tooms, Pfaster, 
Incanto... Scully and crazed killers and bathrooms. He 
could easily understand why Psycho wasn't her favorite 
Hitchcock film.

"But," she went on with that strength and 
determination she was so famous for- that same strength 
that had gotten him through so many tragedies when his 
own was depleted- "unless I want to buy myself a litter 
box and try to bathe in the kitchen sink every morning, I 
need to face this."

He couldn't help but chuckle over her joke. He was 
actually surprised and impressed that she could even joke 
about it, especially so soon. Still, maybe it was bad 
manners of him to laugh, considering he would never 
know the true horrors she had faced. "Sorry."

"Don't be," she whispered, gazing at him. "I like to 
see you smile."

Mulder's breath hitched in his throat. Scully's 
admission was ever so sweet. And there she stood, naked 
and shivering in the shower in front of him, unabashed, 
guileless, so beautiful and vulnerable, yet strong and 
courageous. "I love your smile."

His statement about her smile actually elicited one 
from her. "Thanks," she murmured, blushing for the first 
time since he'd entered the bathroom.

Mulder always marveled at how his compliments 
had that effect on her. "Scully, did you... I mean, I 
could... uh..."

"Will you help me?" she asked shyly and Mulder 
knew that asking for help was never easy for his partner. 
Especially asking for help in such an intimate situation. 
He wondered if she was more hurt or frightened than she 
was letting on... or perhaps, just perhaps, she was finally 
going to open up to him, let him in.

"You mean, help... wash... um..." he stuttered, 
trying to clarify her motives so he didn't do anything 
stupid and freak her out. As it was, he could still feel his 
groin tighten at the mere hint of the suggestion. He did 
his best to control it. This was not about sex, or romance. 
It was about trust and love- but the love between best 
friends who would do anything for the other.

She nodded, averting her eyes, but then forcing 
herself to look back into his own. He saw hesitance and 
fear flicker in her blue depths. He also saw a burning, raw 
emotion that was most certainly love, but bordered on 
what he could only fathom as desire. Maybe this was 
about sex... No, he was sure he was reading her wrong.

"Y-yeah," he murmured.

"But first... I'd like... would you... hold me?" she 
asked softly, pleadingly.

"In the shower?" he gulped. Truthfully, he'd been 
itching to take her small form into his arms since he had 
watched her shoot Donnie Pfaster dead in her apartment 
hours before. But so much had needed to be attended to, 
plus he feared of aggravating her injuries, which, until 
now, he'd had no idea of the extent of them. And of 
course, he was never sure if she wanted to be held. She 
could be so evasive during times like these.

She was the strong one in their partnership. He 
could easily admit that. So many times he had leaned on 
her, craved her love, her affection, her support. But 
admitting such a thing did not diminish his own need to 
help her through a crisis, to be her crutch, her rock, her 
shoulder to cry on. All she had to do was let him...

Scully nodded.

He took a reluctant step over the side of the tub.

"Um, you might want to remove your clothing 
first, Mulder," she instructed, trying to keep her 
expression serious. "Not to mention, your shoes."

If she would have told him that she was a relation 
of Big Foot and then bared sharp canines at him before 
howling like a monkey, he could not have been more 
stunned than by her words. "Um... okay..." he agreed 
shakily.

They had been forced to shower together once, he 
recalled, as he removed his shoes and socks. It had been 
in a cold facility, with people close by and most likely 
watching them. They'd been put in a large shower room, 
so they had taken different stalls in different rows, trying 
to remain respectful of each other and afford one another 
some privacy. He remembered that he had still stolen a 
glance or two at his partner's wet, glistening body as the 
rivulets of water splashed down over her curves. He was 
also almost certain that she had checked him out as well. 
He'd caught her looking once or twice. But it had been an 
innocent moment between the two, making the best of the 
situation while being forced into it. They had also had 
safety in the knowledge that they kept a physical distance 
between them and that they were being watched, most 
likely by Diana Fowley herself. There was no way in hell 
either of them would have made an advance on the other.

Mulder slowly began removing his clothing, 
suddenly feeling a little shy, which was unusual for him. 
Scully had been privy to his naked body on numerous 
occasions. And yes, most were due to illness or injury on 
his part, but she had seen him nonetheless. That didn't 
change the fact that he was nervous, realizing that this 
time was a very different circumstance. Neither of them 
was ill- unless you counted his impending neurological 
disorder, which wasn't a factor at this particular moment 
in time; he still had all his faculties about him. And while 
Scully was injured, she was not so to the point of being 
unconscious, or unable to make a decision about this 
happening. They were not being forced to do this. It was a 
completely voluntary action on both their parts, Mulder 
having secretly been longing for such an opportunity, 
Scully only voicing it out loud. They would also be 
completely alone- no one watching through a door, or a 
camera. No one observing their every move, keeping 
them on their best behavior. And lastly, they would not 
have the safety of physical distance to separate them, 
giving them a feeling of detachment. They would be 
standing naked together in a very small space. And he 
would be touching her. 

Mulder briefly squeezed his eyes shut. He thought 
about baseball, slimy mutants, insane alien bounty 
hunters, Skinner getting pissed off at them and chewing 
them out, Kersch's ugly mug... Frohike's ugly mug... 
anything to keep his erection from igniting and taking 
over, therefore embarrassing Scully and humiliating 
himself. He started tugging on his boxers, as he happened 
to glance over at Scully, who had lowered her arms, and 
he was met with the sight of her breasts. A familiar 
stirring down south made him grit his teeth, trying, in 
vain, to regain some semblance of control over his body. 
Fuck! he thought in a panic, then groaned inwardly at his 
choice of word. I mean, shit! This is going to be so hard! No! I 
mean, difficult! This is going to be so difficult!

He finally managed to get his shorts down and 
climbed over the side of the tub, standing before her, only 
semi-erect (the best he could do to restrain himself at this 
point) and allowing her to see all of him, without the 
distraction of illness or injury, without the threat of being 
interrupted. It was just him and her together... alone... 
and naked in a shower...

"Uh..." he began eloquently.

"Mulder," she whimpered his name and reached 
out her arms, wrapping them tightly about his waist, 
resting her weary head upon his familiar and comforting 
chest. He gingerly put his arms around her shoulders, not 
daring anything more than a light touch. She looked up at 
him in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, indicating her 
many cuts and bruises.

"You won't," she promised. "Just hold me, please."

Having her undeniable approval- and she had 
even said please- Mulder wrapped his arms around her in 
earnest. Her skin, while full of abrasions, was still baby-
soft to the touch. Her hair smelled so good, even though 
she hadn't washed it yet. (It didn't smell like his 
shampoo.) It smelled like her. He loved her natural scent, 
could pick it blindly against a hundred other scents. She 
always smelled so damn good... well, except for that time 
they both had gotten covered in shit while unofficially 
investigating a case involving killer cock roaches. But if he 
had to be honest, he hadn't exactly smelled very good 
himself.

The feel of her naked body pressed to his, hearing 
her humming contentedly against his chest, smelling 
her... was it any wonder that he got lost in all things 
Scully, and he let his guard down? Before he could 
understand what was happening, he closed his eyes and 
was tangling his fingers in her hair with one hand, 
stroking her bare back with the other. He went from half-
mast to standing-at-full-attention in a matter of seconds, 
and it pressed insistently against her belly. "Scully, you 
feel so damn good, honey..." he growled into her ear, 
before realizing how much control he had lost, before 
remembering that he was supposed to be comforting her, 
be her support, her friend. He wasn't supposed to get so 
turned on he couldn't think straight. 

I'm such a worthless fuck-up, he thought 
despondently, pulling away from her. Unable to look her 
in the eye, he said, "Scully, I... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean 
to- I don't want to hurt you." He bowed his head low, 
mortified by his actions.

She stepped closer, crowding him, and he backed 
up in nervous uncertainty, until he was directly under the 
showerhead, the water wetting his hair and drenching his 
face. She pulled him out of the direct spray, then reached 
up to wipe gently at his eyes, wondering if some of the 
little streams were actually tears of regret and shame. 

"Mulder, don't... don't be sorry." Scully paused, 
waiting for him to look at her. He wouldn't. "I'm not," 
she added sweetly, and this time he did stare into her 
face.

"Huh?" he asked, not knowing how else to 
respond. To his surprise, she grasped his hands and 
pulled him back into her arms. When he wouldn't touch 
her, she lifted his arms and draped them over her small 
shoulders.

"Please don't be embarrassed, Mulder," she 
whispered against his chest, pausing long enough to press 
an open-mouthed kiss upon it, his chest hair tickling her 
nose.

The action made Mulder gasp loudly, and his 
erection, which had waned in the wake of his shame, 
stood at attention, bouncing up against her belly again. 
"Scu..." he stammered in confusion and obvious arousal.

"I need this," she explained, her head still resting 
against his chest. "I need to feel good again... I need to... 
I- I need... you."

"I need you, too," he promised, whispering into 
her hair. "Always."

"I know," she smiled against his skin. She briefly 
nuzzled her nose through his chest hair again, making 
them both chuckle. "Mulder," she went on, this time 
looking up at him, her blue eyes boring into his hazel 
ones, "when Pfaster attacked me, he..." and she struggled 
with the words, tears flooding her eyes.

"It's okay, Scully," Mulder replied gently, leaning 
down to kiss her cheek.

"No, I have to say this. I need to tell you, it's too 
important not to," she told him with determination. Both 
of them knew how easily Scully could go into a lecture 
about the laws of physics, or explain, at length, the proper 
procedures to be taken during an autopsy. But when it 
came to matters of the heart, she always got tongue-tied, 
became withdrawn, uneasy. He knew she was treading 
on unsafe ground. He could also see that she would 
continue on anyway, because she felt she had to. "Pfaster 
didn't just hurt me physically, he... terrorized me. I..." 
She stopped again, either overcome with emotion or 
unable to find the right words. 

"Oh, Scully," he said softly, stroking her hair with 
a tender hand.

She pulled him closer and their bodies pressed 
tightly together, their connecting parts aching and 
tingling and nearly touching. Both of them groaned in 
arousal. "I need this," she repeated contentedly, loving 
the hardness of him pushing against her. "I need to feel 
you like this. This is how it's supposed to be between men 
and women. It's supposed to be about warmth and trust 
and love and... and... pleasure. Not what Pfaster wanted. 
He... he was so sick, Mulder, so twisted and evil. Yet, 
even now, I still don't know if I should have shot him like 
that... I'm still not sure why I did."

Mulder had still been reeling from their intimate 
physical contact, when he was unexpectedly hit by the 
enormity of her words. While she hadn't exactly made a 
declaration of love, she had made an... acknowledgment 
of sorts. It was an acknowledgment of the love they both 
knew was there and ebbing between them. He didn't 
mention anything of it, didn't want to embarrass her or 
put her on the spot. He knew how difficult it had been for 
her to say out loud. It was so hard for her to articulate her 
feelings verbally. It wasn't the easiest thing for him either, 
if he had to be honest, but they were both well aware that 
she was the worse of the two. Instead, he focused on her 
guilt over killing Pfaster, another thing he was an expert 
at.

"Scully, you didn't do anything wrong, I promise 
you. Pfaster was... evil incarnate! I mean that. He would 
have killed you- and then countless others- if you had not 
gotten to him first. I'm sure of that."

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded, not 
really wanting to discuss Pfaster anymore, wishing to put 
her focus elsewhere. "Kiss me?" she asked hopefully.

His lips were on hers so quickly, she barely had 
time to take a breath. His mouth devoured hers, not in 
any evil, sinister way- not like Pfaster, but like Mulder, the 
man she had loved for seven years, the man who owned 
her, heart and soul. Scully's lips were bruised and cracked 
from Pfaster's attack. Mulder's kiss should have stung, 
should have burned, but it didn't. His kiss soothed, 
healed, pleasured her. She felt safe, loved and desired. He 
made her feel... whole! Just as Mulder had once avowed 
that she had made him a whole person, she knew he did 
the same for her. She felt complete when he was near. She 
had felt that way about him for longer than she could 
remember.

"Love you," he whispered against her lips, then 
engulfed them again before she could respond. His hands 
were carefully, reverently roaming over the expanse of 
her wet, slick skin, ever mindful of all of her many painful 
scratches. He stopped his assault on her mouth to ask her, 
"Is this what you need, Scully? Is this what you need from 
me?"

"It's what I need with you," she said, reaching up 
to caress his beautiful face in her hands. She became 
aware, again, with no uncertain clarity of the excitement 
and appreciation his body had for hers. She could feel it 
pressing into her hip, now harder and more insistent than 
ever. Shocking even herself, Scully gingerly touched it 
lightly with her fingertips.

"God, Scully!" he gasped at the contact.

She smiled, feeling happy, desired and aroused all 
at once over the effect her simple touch could bring him. 
"I want this for us," she assured him, even as she knew 
she was about to disappoint him. "I really do. But I... 

tonight just wouldn't be possible. I need time to heal, not 
just my body, but... my mind..."She wore an apologetic 
expression, hoping he would understand.

And of course, he did. He smiled at her, reached 
up to trace the shape of a heart over her left breast. "And 
your heart," he reminded her. "That needs time to heal, 
too." He kissed her forehead.

"No," she corrected him, closing her eyes and 
shivering delightedly at his caress, "Pfaster never could 
touch that. It's yours, you see."

More tears cascaded down Mulder's cheeks; these 
were of the happy persuasion. "I... oh, Scully, I hope you 
know that you own my heart, too."

"I do," she replied, wiping away his tears with 
kisses. "And I cherish it, Mulder. I'll keep it safe for you, I 
promise."

"I'll do the same for yours," he promised right 
back.

"I'm really sorry that we can't... tonight, I mean," 
she apologized, looking as disappointed as she was sure 
he felt.

"Don't be sorry, Scully," he said. "I'm not. In fact, 
I'm just happy at what I know now, what I have."

"What's that?"

"A relationship with you. A- a... future with you," 
he dared to add, even though, with his current health 
status, he didn't know how long that future would 
actually be. "And it starts right now... even if our sex life 
doesn't." He winked playfully at her.

She chuckled sheepishly. "Please realize that I'm 
not saying 'no', Mulder. I'm just saying 'not right now'. 
But soon, I promise."

"I understand. And I'll be looking forward to it." 
He shifted his position and his manhood sprung up and 
bounced against her abdomen, causing them both to 
glance down at it. While Scully eyed it with her mouth 
watering, Mulder found it to look somewhat ridiculous, 
even comical. He still had difficulty figuring out what 
women could possibly find sexy about men. "Eh, Mulder, 
Jr. is, too, apparently."

Scully began to laugh; a surprising and beautiful 
sound. "Mulder, Jr.? You named your-"

"All guys do," he sniffed, although he couldn't be 
certain of that fact. And he wasn't planning on asking 
around to find out for sure, either.

The trademark Scully eyebrow was in place as she 
looked at him. She wore a look that told him of her 
amusement, happiness and unbidden desire. "I see..."

Eager to change the subject, Mulder ran his hands 
up her arms to rest them upon her shoulders. "So, uh, did 
you want me to... wash you now?" he asked hopefully.

She picked up on that instantly and smiled 
wickedly at him. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to 
get more out of this than I am?" she smirked, handing 
him the wash cloth.

"Nah, it'll be good for both of us, Scully," he 
promised her, grabbing his bar of soap and lathering up 
the cloth. "I'll make you feel as clean and fresh as a 
summer rain."

"You already do, Mulder," she told him quietly, 
her smile turning sweet and sentimental.

"Keep that up, Scully, and we'll never get out of 
here, because I'll be too busy holding you."

Her smile widened, as if that was supposed to 
worry her. "Will you wash my hair for me, too?" she 
asked innocently. "My arms are sore and it hurts to reach 
up."

"Of course," he replied, his eyes heady with love 
and lust.

He washed her hair first, turning it into a 
pleasurable and erotic experience for them both. Though 
neither mentioned it, the each silently vowed that 
showering together and he washing her hair would have 
to become a regular routine with them. 

When it came time to wash her beautiful, but 
battered body, Mulder was extra gentle, and he bent 
down to reverently kiss the first scratch he came to, three 
inches long and running down her back, almost marring 
her tattoo, which Mulder took a moment to admire up 
close. After he'd kissed her, she shyly asked if he would 
kiss every scratch, bump and bruise he came across. Both 
of them were fully aware that her body was covered in 
them. The pain of knowing that fact was tempered nicely 
by the pleasure her request brought them. It was not lost 
on Mulder that Scully had basically given him permission 
to explore her body in a very intimate way.

And yes, he did run his tongue along the outline of 
her tattoo, just as he had fantasized about doing years 
before when she'd first gotten it. He delighted in the way 
it made her shiver. She delighted in the way it felt.

After he had done a thorough cleaning, as well as 
explored every curve, nook and cranny with the cloth, his 
fingers and his tongue, after the water finally turned cold, 
making them both shriek from the shock of it, Mulder and 
Scully got out of the tub and dried off. Mulder insisted on 
patting her dry with her towel himself, careful not to rub 
too hard against one of her many owies. She dressed in 
his clothing- he opted not to wear hers though- and they 
ventured back into the living room. He ordered them an 
extra-large, extra-gooey, extra-greasy pizza and they 
pigged out, eating all of it in one sitting. Then they slept 
peacefully together in his bed, staving off the 
unpleasantness of having to give a statement regarding 
Pfaster's shooting. They didn't think about the report they 
would soon need to turn in to Skinner. They tried not to 
worry over the mess in her apartment that would have to 
be dealt with soon.

Instead, they held each other close, Scully 
slumbering against his shoulder, drooling contentedly on 
him. Mulder smiled, giving her a squeeze and kissing her 
before drifting off after her...





Scene Fifteen: "I Got Chills! 
They're Multiplying!" [Rated NC-
17]

April 2000
Georgetown, Dana Scully residence
8:46 p.m.

T-Birds greaser Danny Zuko asked his date, the 
lovely Sandy Olsson from Australia, if she would wear 
his ring. She looked so happy and she admitted to him 
that she didn't know what to say. He told her to say, 
"yes", so she did. She then slid the ring onto her finger 
and kissed him.

"Aw, that's so sweet," Mulder cooed at the 
television, sitting on Scully's sofa, eating popcorn from a 
big bowl setting on an end table beside him. His lovely 
partner sat in his lap.

Scully smirked at him. "You're such a dork, 
Mulder."

"Don't be a cynic, Scully. That's sweet!"

"He only wants to get into her pants."

"Shows what you know," he scoffed. "She's 
wearing a skirt!"

She rolled her eyes at him, then leaned over him to 
snag some popcorn from the bowl. "Either way, he's just 
trying to get some." She gave him a pointed look.

"Well, yeah, but he still loves her..." Mulder 
explained, as if he were an expert on teenage love from 
the 1950s. They watched as the greaser wrapped his arm 
around Sandy and slowly let his hand move towards the 
unsuspecting young woman's breast.

"Wow, how loving," Scully remarked dully, as 
Sandy caught Danny in the act, before he pushed her 
down in the front seat and got on top of her.

"Oh, um, well, see, that's... horny teenage-boy 
love," Mulder tried to elaborate, "which thankfully is a 
whole world of difference from... horny man love." He 
waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, I'm sure," she chuckled. "Smooth, Mulder, 
smooth."

Sandy slammed the car door shut, effectively 
catching Danny's member in it.

"Ha!" Scully blurted.

"Scullleeee," he whined at her. "That would have 
hurt!"

She shrugged. "It's not like it really happened, 
Mulder. He wasn't even near enough to the car door to 
get it caught. Besides, he had his pants on for Chrissakes."

"I get it, Scully," he grimaced. He still held a 
pained expression. "It's just the thought of it..."

Another roll of the pretty blue eyes. "Whatever, 
Mulder."

Sandy threw Danny's ring at him, then left him in 
the car with a sore member and ran off into the night.

"You'd never leave me stranded like that at a 
drive-in, would you, Scully."

"Of course not," she said and he smiled, until she 
added. "I'd take the car home and do it properly."

"Are you pissed at me, Scully?" Mulder dared to 
ask, glancing at her. She had an expression on her face 
that he couldn't quite read... as long as they had known 
each other and been partners and friends, becoming her 
lover had brought out a lot more emotions in Scully, a lot 
more expressions to learn, moods to figure out. It was 
true what he'd told her once. She always kept him 
guessing.

"Why would you ask that?" she murmured, as 
Danny cried after his girl.

"Well," Mulder supplied, managing to say it all in 
one breath, "because, while I went to the suburbs and 
stayed in a nice home and ate good food and had 
somebody washing and ironing my clothes and picking 
up after me, you were stuck in the bowels of D.C., in a 
cheap, flea-bitten motel, being exposed to the dredges of 
society, eating stale, three-day old pizza, wearing the 
same clothing for days on end, not even getting a 
shower..."

Scully wrinkled her nose in distaste over the way 
too recent memory. She'd just gotten home the day before 
yesterday. "Well, if I wasn't pissed off about it before, I 
certainly am now. Thanks for bringing it up again, 
Mulder."

"Oh, come on, Scully," he pleaded, as she blew out 
a breath. He knew she was only kidding. At least, he 
hoped she was only kidding. Ever since they had done the 
naked pretzel, as he liked to call it, the enigmatic Dr. Scully 
liked to tease him a lot, and in such a way that sometimes 
kept him off balance. He supposed she was making up for 
all the times he had embarrassed her over the years with 
naughty innuendoes.

An idea formed quickly in Mulder's strange and 
brilliant mind, and he smiled, then gently deposited 
Scully onto the sofa next to him before sliding off onto the 
floor, where he knelt at her feet. He took a hold of her 
hand.

"Mulder?" she asked in confusion as the music 
started.

T-Birds leader Danny Zuko started to sing the 
song, Sandy, to his fleeing girlfriend, in a lovelorn tone. 
Mulder began to sing along with him as well, with a few 
major exceptions...

"Scully, can't you see? I'm in misery!"

In response to his woeful, horridly off-key, but 
completely sincere crooning, Scully burst out laughing. 

"Mulder!"

He went on to the next verse, coming up with his 
own lyrics on the fly. 

"Oh, Scully, maybe someday, when our next case is 
done... 

Somehow, someway, our conclusions will be one
The basement forever and ever we will be. 
Oh, please, say you'll stay, oh, Scully..."

"Oh, my God, stop!" Scully laughed, her cheeks 
turning pink, her breath hitching, her sides splitting from 
all the exertion.

Mulder wouldn't let up. He then spoke in a deep 
voice, trying to imitate Danny's inflection as the greaser 
began speaking to his lost love. "Scully, my darling, I 
want you so bad, you know it's true. And baby, you gotta 
believe me when I say, I'm helpless without you."

Then he ended the song with a flourish...

"Please don't flee- stay with me! 
Don't sit and wonder why-y-y-y
Please, don't leave me, oh, Scully!
Scul-lee!
Scul-lee!
Why-y-y-y... oh, Scully..."

He looked expectantly at the beautiful, flush-faced 
woman sitting on the couch in front of him. "Well...?"

"Jesus, Mulder," she finally spoke when she 
recovered her voice, "that was terrible!"

He looked crestfallen. "It was? Even worse than 
your moth men rendition of Joy to the World?"

"Oh, definitely, way worse!"

His lower lip jutted out. "Oh..." he mumbled.

"And I loved it!" she added.

The smile returned to his handsome face. "Yeah?" 
he asked hopefully.

"Oh, yeah," she purred, patting the sofa beside her. 
"Come back up here with me, please?"

He eagerly did so, and they wrapped themselves 
around each other. She laid her head against his shoulder, 
and he started running his healing fingers over her back. 
"I'm sorry you got stuck on that crummy stakeout detail 
by yourself," he said, leaning forward to pepper her jaw 
line with kisses.

"It's okay; it wasn't your fault," she assured him, 
leaning her head to the side to allow him better access.

Seeing her so open to him, he seized the 
opportunity and began sucking on her exposed neck.

"Mulder!" she squealed. "I'll get a hickey!"

"A hickey from Mul-dicky is like a Hallmark 
card..." he teased her, pseudo-quoting the movie and 
giving the spot he just sucked a big lick with his tongue.

"Oh, brother!"

"Scully? Would you be mad if I copped a feel?" he 
asked, recalling her distaste for Danny Zuko trying such a 
move on Sandy Olsson in the drive-in scene. Mulder 
mimicked Danny's movements, his hand inching for her 
breast, although he did so in a very obvious manner, so as 
not to surprise her.

"No," she assured him, "because I know you love 
and respect me and I actually want you to get into my 
pants." She grabbed his hand and enthusiastically placed 
it firmly upon her silk covered mound, groaning happily 
at the contact.

"God, Scully," he groaned right back, his eyes 
flashing green, and he growled hungrily at her. Gently, he 
pushed her down into the couch, then carefully lowered 
himself on top of her. Sure, they weren't in a car at the 
drive-in, but they couldn't have everything. Besides, he 
was planning on getting a lot more action with Scully 
than poor Danny Zuko got with Sandy.

Furious necking ensued...

"You know, Scully," Mulder murmured against 
her lips, as Danny Zuko started to race Greased Lightnin' 
down at Thunder road, "I've been told I look like John 
Travolta..."

She chuckled into his open mouth, their breaths 
mingling. "Really? Well, you don't."

His lips wandered to the shell of her ear. He blew 
in it before mentioning, "Someone once said that I 
resemble Richard Gere. He played Danny Zuko on 
Broadway..."

With a smile, she grazed her teeth over his chin, 
enjoying the sensation she felt with his stubble. "Sorry, I 
don't see it."

"What about Harrison Ford?" he inquired, running 
his tongue along the smooth line of her neck. "He starred 
in American Grafiti, which is sort of like Grease..."

Scully stopped what she had been doing- sucking 
on her partner's ear- and looked up at him. "I'm sensing a 
pattern here, Mulder. Are we going to go through every 
male actor who's ever played a punk in a movie before I 
see any real action?" She raised her eyebrow at him.

He laughed at her retort, stinging though it was. "I 
just... wondered if you thought I was as good looking as 
some of those guys I mentioned..." he mumbled, 
embarrassed by his admission, but unable to tell her 
anything but the truth.

Sandy Olsson sat watching Danny Zuko celebrate 
his victory with his friends at Thunder road, while her 
inner self sang, Sandra Dee...

"Oh, Mulder," Scully promised, gazing into his 
eyes with pure love in her own, "none of them could even 
hope to compare to you. You're the most handsome man 
I've ever known, darling." He smiled, loving it immensely 
when she complimented him and loving it even more 
when she called him sentimental endearments. He then 
closed his eyes when she pulled his face down to hers and 
kissed him tenderly.

"You know, Ellen Adderly, the suspect from my 
case in the suburbs," he said, reaching his hand out to 
tuck an errant strand of soft, red hair behind her ear, "she 
asked me an interesting question while I was there, before 
the arrest, I mean..."

"Oh, yeah?" Scully responded playfully. "What 
was it? Do you like your boxers starched, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder chuckled again, loving her silly side. But 
then his expression grew more thoughtful. "No, she asked 
me if I had a significant other..."

"Ah," she murmured. Though the two of them had 
been in love for years, hopelessly devoted, as it were, they 
had only just recently spoken aloud those feelings of 
undying love a scant two months ago. They had been 
sexually intimate with each other for even less time than 
that, for only about the last month.

That month had been a little turbulent, to say the 
least. First, they had found themselves being unwittingly 
filmed for a reality TV show- called Cops- while on a case 
in California. It gave Scully the willies, and made her feel 
as though she had to watch over her shoulder, always 
looking for a damn camera. Mulder was quite worried 
how she was going to handle it all once the show aired, 
which the producer had called to say would be within the 
next three months. He was sure Scully would never live it 
down with her family. He was particularly dreading 
about how Bill, Jr. might take to it. And he just knew this 
would make them a laughing stock at work- well, they 
usually were, anyway, but it would just make it worse 
down at the Bureau, once again.

Then, they'd been at odds after the Lone Gunmen 
called them back to Los Angeles a week and a half later, 
as a favor, in regards to a video game company that they 
had invested in, and that was coming into some trouble. 
People were dying when they played the First Person 
Shooter game. Not only could Scully not comprehend the 
appeal of playing such silly games, she had not taken 
kindly to Mulder's blatant ogling of a certain Ms. Jade 
Blue Afterglow. Mulder would admit that he'd been 
behaving like a schmuck, especially considering old Jade 
had absolutely nothing over Scully. He had really gotten 
his ass kicked during that case. Not only had he nearly 
gotten killed in the video game, his beautiful partner 
having to come in and save him- she really did look 
adorably hot though, in that battle gear, with her little 
goggles and big gun, shooting and killing, all to save her 
man; it was all very primal, and he was surprised he 
could get up and walk out of there once the game was 
over, considering the wood he was sprouting- but later, 
when the partners joined the Gunmen at a bar to 
celebrate, even though it was pretty obvious that Scully 
was pissed off at him and not much in a mood for 
celebration, he ran into the real life Ms. Afterglow yet 
again. Thankfully, Scully had gone to the ladies room, just 
as Jade began her approach. He didn't want to pay much 
attention to the sexy vixen, because he didn't want to 
cause Scully any more hurt, nor was he truly interested. 
But the woman marched right up to him, invaded his 
personal space and whispered in his ear, "Is your partner 
single? God, she's so fucking hot, I wanted to take her 
right there in the precinct this afternoon!" He knew he 
should have felt more insulted that such a sexy woman 
preferred his female partner to him, but the idea of Scully 
and Jade Blue Afterglow together... well, the only thing 
that kept him from reintroducing them was the fact that 
Scully was all his and he had no intention of sharing her 
with anyone! So, he may have lost out on one fantasy, but 
lived to enjoy the reality, which was having his partner 
remain as his love, and not killing him for doing anything 
she might have considered stupid, degrading or 
disgusting.

She was still brooding over what she deemed his 
unfortunate lack of judgment when they were called in to 
investigate the mysterious death of a doctor's family, and 
the apparent source of these deaths- a Mr. Orel Peattie 
and his magical voodoo dolls... Scully had momentarily 
lost her eyesight on that case, scaring them both nearly to 
death.

Less than a week later, Mulder felt she had lost 
sight of something even more important- namely, her 
common sense- when she had decided to take an 
impromptu road trip with the devil himself. The Cigarette 
Smoking man had somehow managed to talk Scully into 
leaving with him, tricking her, using her for his own 
dastardly schemes. Mulder nearly had a heart attack from 
worry over her absence, and felt great sadness and 
disappointment once he found out whom she had 
disappeared with. Once she came back to him, seemingly 
unharmed, but perhaps sadder and wiser, the pain he felt 
over what he considered were her foolish actions tainted 
his relief over her safe return. This was a germ in their 
fledgling relationship that grew and festered, like an 
unchecked infection. After several days, the illness 
growing between them had come to a head, and they'd 
fought about it, finally getting it all out into the open. 
Their argument had been horrific. There had been a lot of 
screaming and accusations and tears and explanations 
being flung back and forth at each other. It eventually led 
to the most mind-blowing make-up sex either of them 
had ever experienced, but it had been a rough road to get 
there.

Between the time they had made love for the first 
time in a hotel room the night they had discovered the 
truth about his sister Samantha, and what was about to 
happen this evening, they could count their moments of 
mutual sexual gratification on one hand. Mulder was 
really gunning for starting on the fingers of the other 
hand, but he realized that he and Scully were still so new 
at this romance thing and there were a lot of kinks left to be 
worked through. Since their biggest fault through out 
their partnership, then friendship and now their 
relationship had to be the lack of communication and 
holding back their true feelings, he was determined to 
start a new tradition of honesty and truth right now!

Though he could feel Scully's insistent tug on his 
pants, though he could see the want in her beautiful, blue 
eyes and though he could feel his own want, throbbing 
insistently in his trousers and pressing temptingly into 
the heavenly apex of her thighs, Mulder knew they 
needed to have this conversation first.

On the screen, Danny became acquainted with the 
newly made over Sandy. The psychologist in Mulder- and 
the feminist in Scully- would surely have a field day 
analyzing this turn of events, but now was not the time 
for inane reflection. 

Danny sang to his love in amazement, trying to 
woo her back into his life, which everyone knows, would 
be pathetic without her.

"I got chills- they're multiplying! And I'm losing 
control
For the power you're supplying. It's electrifying!"

Looking down at the incredibly gorgeous woman 
staring up at him from under the confines of his 
thrumming body, Mulder could only agree with that 
statement and commiserate. But he still pressed onward. 
It was important to him. She was important to him.

"So, what was your answer?" Scully asked finally, 
after waiting too long without him giving one. She 
seemed cautiously curious. She wanted to know what 
he'd said, but at the same time, his expression gave her 
some cause to worry over what he'd said.

"I said... 'Not in the widely understood definition 
of that term'," he replied.

On screen, Danny and Sandy were dancing 
through the fun house at the carnival and vowing to each 
other that, You're the one that I want...

Scully frowned. "What did you mean by that?" she 
inquired, looking confused, perhaps somewhat hurt.

"I..." he struggled to find the right words. "I guess 
I was kind of afraid to admit about our relationship, as if 
telling her- basically a stranger and someone so far away 
from our own crazy lives- might mean that I'd slip up 
later on and admit it to someone else... as in someone that 
we feel shouldn't know about us."

Now she understood. "Mulder, we did talk about 
this. You were the one who insisted upon total secrecy, 
remember? I mean, my own mother doesn't even know, 
and she's actually been wanting us to get together! And I 
know you haven't said anything to the Gunmen either, 
otherwise, I doubt Frohike would still leer at me all the 
time. Are you telling me now that you want to go public 
with our relationship?"

"I... well, yeah," he admitted, "although, trust me, 
Frohike would continue to leer at you, regardless. And... I 
know that we can't go bragging about it- at least, not to 
just anyone."

She sighed sadly. "It's true," she had to agree, "if 
someone from work found out, it could definitely 
jeopardize our partnership- even our jobs."

"Scully," he whispered, staring down into her 
beautiful face, "no matter what happens, you will always 
be my partner." He kissed her softly.

"I know," she said with half-lidded eyes and a 
warm smile. "You'll always be mine, too. I only meant 
our working partnership. And of course, there's the X-Files 
to worry about."

"I don't worry so much about the X-Files 
anymore," he admitted, and she stared at him in surprise. 
"Well," he said, "I would miss it, but I honestly think that 
we've gone about as far as we can there."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted to find my sister and I did, sort of. It 
only took nearly a decade on the job, but I did. Because of 
the X-Files, I discovered a government conspiracy, and 
learned that there is an imminent concern for 
colonization. We have solved crimes and murders that 
had previously been deemed unsolvable, due to their 
paranormal connections. We've captured or rid the world 
of so many monsters, even some of the human 
persuasion... and, most importantly, because of the X-
Files, I met my soul mate..."

Scully averted her eyes. "You mean Melissa 
Ephesian?" she asked, suddenly looking forlorn.

He smiled, having the feeling that she would 
automatically recall that time when he had been 
misguided enough to entertain such a possibility. "No," 
he told her, "I mean Dana Scully."

Tears flooded her eyes. "Aw, Mulder, I... you 
know I feel the same..."

"Yes, I do," he said, bending his head down again 
to kiss her. Even more than having sex, kissing this 
woman was his favorite thing in the world to do. "But... 
the X-Files has also brought us its share of pain and death 
and sadness. So if you asked me to choose between you 
and a musty basement office full of old files, well, there's 
no question..."

She waited for him to clarify, still not completely 
sure what his answer would be. "Um, Mulder...?"

He laughed. "Jesus, Scully, of course I'd choose 
you! Besides, the work we do, it would be possible to 
continue our quest in the private sector. We'd be some 
sort of... paranormal investigators."

"That's what the Ghostbusters called themselves, 
Mulder," she smirked. "I guess Josh was right, huh?"

"Hmm, maybe," he snickered, remember her 
nephew's impressions of their job. "I guess we could 
change our motto from I want to believe to We're ready to 
believe you. Yeah, that could definitely work. And hey, I 
can be Bill Murray and you can be my Sigourney Weaver. 
Ha! You wouldn't even have to change your first name, 
Dana, although you might have to grow a foot taller..." 
She could hear the wicked amusement in his tone.

"Very funny, Venkman!" she muttered good-
naturedly. "But let me get this straight. Are you telling me 
that you want to throw caution to the wind and go public 
with our relationship, doing so with the knowledge that if 
we get canned from the FBI, we can just become ghost 
busters?"

"Well, maybe semi public would be a better 
description, at least for now," he said, searching her face 
for approval, "although the whole ghost busting thing 
does have its appeal."

"Semi public?" she asked with a devilish grin. 
"What do you mean by that, Mulder? Having sex at the 
office?"

"Uh, that wasn't what I was thinking, actually," he 
admitted, "but I'm certainly open to that suggestion." He 
ground his erection against her.

"Y-yeah," she gasped, "I'm sure you are."

"Did you know that I've got approximately ninety-
three fantasies involving you, me and our desk down in 
the basement, Scully?"

"Mulder? Are you going to explain this semi public 
business, or just torture me all night?"

"Oh, right! Well, how about we start kind of 
slowly..." he paused as she laughed. It was true. No one 
could ever accuse the two of them of rushing into 
anything when it came to their relationship! "You know, 
we can tell your mom and your family... and the guys. I 
mean, do I want the aliens or the conspirators privy to the 
fact that I'm doing the naked pretzel with my hot, little 
sex-goddess of a partner?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're so romantic, Mulder, 
and God, your answer better be no to that question."

"Okay, no, even though I'd love to shout it from 
the roof tops that you're mine... and I'm yours." He 
leaned down to rub his nose against hers before kissing it. 
"But, I think it would be okay- and nice- to share the fact 
that we're in love, at least with our family and close 
friends. Let the people most important to us in on our 
little secret, so they don't have to wonder why we have 
these shit-eating grins on our faces all the time now."

Scully, blushing over the idea that her family 
would know she was having sex with her partner- 
although she was pretty sure most of them assumed this 
already, anyway- chuckled nervously, then said, "I don't 
eat shit, Mulder, grinning or otherwise. But I do see your 
point about this and I... I certainly agree."

Now he grinned, leering at her. "So, did you want 
to tell the Skinman, or should I?"

This only made her laugh- and blush- harder. "Oh, 
Mulder, I have the sinking suspicion that he already 
knows. Or at least, he suspects. I'm sure he's 
contemplated over the idea."

He thrust his tight, painful erection against her, 
and she groaned his name in excitement. "I'm 
contemplating something myself right about now, Agent 
Scully."

Danny and Sandy and the gang began their last big 
number, singing, We Go Together and dancing around like 
maniacs.

"Tell me about it, stud?" Scully joked, but her voice 
was all seduction.

Mulder chuckled, then answered her, "How's 
about I ram-a-lama-lama your dingedy-ding-a-dong?" he 
crooned in time with the song.

"Oh, God, yes!" she exclaimed, tugging once again, 
at his clothing, desperate to get him naked and grab a 
hold of his own dingedy-ding-a-dong. "I've been waiting 
for that ever since you got here, dammit!"

"Shit, you mean, I didn't need to watch the movie, 
sing the songs, or have a heartfelt talk? I could have 
screwed your brains out the minute I walked through the 
door?" he stammered, pretending to be shocked.

"Yes!" she informed him, getting his shirt over his 
head and reaching for the fly on his pants. "But I truly did 
enjoy the rest of it, too."

"Even the singing?" he asked, yanking her sweater 
over her head, and reaching around her to unclasp her 
silky bra, whereupon her exquisite breasts were revealed 
to him. He buried his face between them.

"Especially the singing," she vowed, sighing in 
contentment at the contact. 

Once he got her pants off, and they were 
completely exposed to each other, he kissed her lovingly, 
then stared into her eyes as he slowly sank into her. This 
was one of his favorite moments while making love to the 
woman of his dreams. Their connection was so much 
more than physical.

"So good, Scully," he whimpered. "Love you so 
much..."

Danny and Sandy were driving away- okay, make 
that flying away- in a souped-up, outrageously painted 
pink car. The hood was clear and the engine visible. It still 
couldn't have been revving as much as Mulder's and 
Scully's were.

"Love you, Mulder, always..." Scully replied with a 
groan. "We'll always be together..." she sang in her 
charming, off-key monotone as the song came to a close. 
The two leads waved goodbye and floated off into the 
clouds.

Mulder had never ceased to be amazed- or 
amused- by Scully's somewhat quiet, subtle, but very 
funny sense of humor. He truly appreciated it. He always 
had. But what he appreciated even more was the fact that 
she had been funnier, sillier... happier ever since they had 
finally admitted their true feelings for one another. 
Mulder was flabbergasted by the conclusion that he 
actually made her happy. Scully was the woman he'd 
loved since... well, forever, and her mere presence could 
delight him to no end. It was nearly unbelievable to him 
that he could elicit the same feelings in her, but there it 
was, plain as day and staring him in the face, just as she 
was now.

"Mulder? Are you all right, love?" 

There it was, another mushy term of endearment 
that he couldn't get enough of from her. He smiled. 
"I'm... perfect, love," he assured her, caressing her face 
with one hand and one of her soft, supple thighs with the 
other, "now that I have you."

"Then, have me," she urged him, thrusting up 
against his beautiful body. "And I'll have you."

"Deal," he agreed, and they kissed, then began 
their primal dance.

In the background, the end credits of the movie left 
them with one final bit of advice...

"Grease is the word... is the word... is the word... is the 
word..."



Scene Sixteen: "Tears On My 
Pillowcase..." [Rated PG-13]

April 2001
Alexandria, Fox Mulder residence
Laundry Room
9:02 p.m.

Mulder was downstairs in his apartment building's 
laundry room. He had six loads going at once, using up 
every washing machine there, which was against the rules 
here. He was not supposed to be monopolizing all of the 
machines himself, as it was considered bad form to do so 
to one's neighbors, but Mulder could give a rat's ass 
about the rules or his neighbors. Besides, there was no 
one else down here, glaring at him to hurry up, and he 
still had a load of sheets and towels to do even after all of 
this, so he was going to do what he needed to do.

He had just gotten back from a close call this 
evening where he and this Agent Doggett guy had barely 
escaped with their lives from yet another government 
facility harboring horrible secrets regarding the fate of the 
world. Even though he had recently just risen from the 
dead, Mulder was still searching for answers, still looking 
for the truth, no matter how daunting it may be.

When he and Doggett and the Lone Gunmen had 
beat it out of that place, the guys had raced for their ugly, 
hippie van, Doggett had headed to his own car, and 
Mulder was met with the sight of his very pregnant Scully 
waiting for him at her car, gesturing frantically for him to 
hurry his ass up. She had slid in behind the steering 
wheel, her girth barely allowing her room to breathe, 
while he made a beeline for the passenger seat, and off 
they raced, into the night, inhaling the dust made by the 
hasty retreat of the other two parties leaving just before 
them. They had barely made it out of there alive. If it 
hadn't been for Doggett's warning...

"Fuck!" Mulder groaned out loud, in spite of the 
lack of an audience to either be shocked or amused over 
his curse.

Life, after having come back from the dead, was 
certainly no bowl of cherries. Not that life ever had been a 
bowl of cherries in the first place, but before, he'd known 
where he fit in with the world... and with her... At least, 
he always thought he did. Things were still a bit on the 
hazy side sometimes, when he tried to recall his past.

But now, there was this Agent Dog-get in his 
world, in Scully's world, as well as in his X-Files office. He 
didn't like the asshole, not one little bit, whether the man 
had just saved his ass or not. Doggett has an attitude, 
Mulder decided, a bad attitude! The guy was cocky, 
arrogant, and he constantly hovered around Scully. If 
Mulder would have thought about it, he might have been 
shocked to realize that all of those things could have 
easily been used to describe him as well, but the point 
was, he wasn't thinking about it.

The fucker's acting like he's got a stake on my Scully! 
Scully... Tears flooded Mulder's eyes over just the 
thought of her name. She had been his first sight when 
he'd awoken from the coma after being brought back 
from the dead just a couple of weeks ago. She had looked 
so beautiful and kind and loving. He remembered her 
expression once he'd opened his eyes and looked at her 
for the first time, although, even while he was 
unconscious, he had known she was there with him. He 
had felt her presence somehow. But upon opening his 
eyes and actually seeing her there, a solid, breathing 
person, not just a pretty but unattainable vision, that 
made it all real. It made her truly real. She had looked 
ecstatic to see him awake. She had hugged him, even 
though he was too weak at the time to return the gesture. 
So, he had hugged her with his heart, his mind, his soul. 
Every ounce of mental and emotional energy he had to 
give went to the effort of loving her in that moment, as 
he'd had no physical energy to speak of.

A smile appeared on his trembling lips over the 
memory. How many other bozos could say their return from 
the dead was so meaningful and heartfelt? How many of them 
could say that they were greeted by their very own earthbound 
angel? Then again, he reasoned, how many bozos lay buried in 
the ground for months and actually return from the dead at all?

Not long after their teary-eyed reunion, Mulder 
thought it was a day or two later, but he couldn't 
remember for sure now, he had finally noticed the 
fullness to her face, and her breasts... as well as the swell 
of her very obviously pregnant belly. He recalled the last 
time he had seen Scully before being abducted. He had 
left her in his bed, after making love to her in the most 
tender way, kissing her tear-stained, worried face 
goodbye and leaving to meet up with Skinner at the 
airport to fly to Oregon. She had looked so lovely, 
gorgeous, sexy, a little sad, of course, but decidedly as 
thin as a reed and definitely not pregnant.

His heart ached with regret, recalling their failed 
attempts at creating life together through invitro 
fertilization the year before. It hadn't worked, much to 
both their utmost regret. It had hit Scully hard to be faced 
with such defeat. He had remained strong and supportive 
for her during that heartbreaking time, but what he 
hadn't let on was just how much it had hurt him, too. The 
idea of having a child had never truly crossed his mind, 
but when Scully had asked him, he suddenly felt 
compelled to become a father, but only if Scully was to be 
the mother of his offspring. There was no one else in the 
world he would have wanted to share that experience 
with. When it all failed, he realized it wasn't meant to be, 
but it still hurt him terribly. Because he was a guilt-ridden 
man for so long, he blamed the whole fiasco on himself. 
He felt he had failed the woman he loved.

Not long after, so many things happened to change 
their lives, and not having a child together, while tragic, 
suddenly did not seem like the end of the world. 
Contracting a neurological disorder felt like the end of the 
world sometimes, especially considering he knew it was 
an ultimately fatal condition, but at the same time, he felt 
life renew when he had braved up enough to kiss his 
lovely partner on the lips, for the very first time. That 
event seemed to have set off a chain reaction of so many 
topsy-turvy happenings. His mother died, he'd 
discovered that his sister was long dead, too. The X-Files 
was in danger of being closed down. But through it all, 
his relationship with his beloved Scully had grown and 
blossomed and soon they were absolutely everything to 
each other. They always had been nearly so, since that 
first day they'd met in March of 1992, really. But even as 
their partnership and friendship expanded and more trust 
was formed and intimacy developed, something had 
always been missing; just one, tiny little piece of a puzzle 
that would forever remain unfinished until the last part 
was added to the final picture. He'd found that missing 
piece in a hotel room the night he discovered the truth 
about what had happened to his sister. That was the first 
time he and his beautiful Scully had made love, at least in 
the physical sense. After that, things just started looking 
up. Of course, they still had their fair share of 
misunderstandings, close calls, illnesses, injuries, fights 
that plagued both their personal and professional lives, 
but they survived it all, and even if their moments of 
sexual intimacy had been too brief, too infrequent, neither 
could question the other on their loyalty or love. They 
were both much happier and Scully became so playful 
and even silly at times. It had been wonderful learning 
this before to hidden side of her. He'd so enjoyed 
watching her blossom in the protective haven of his 
devotion. Her growth had set off something inside of him 
and soon he was blossoming as well. If it weren't for his 
impending death from the nasty disease in his brain, he 
would have felt invincible.

Being with Scully, loving her, being loved by her, 
had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. 
Mulder had been lonely and deprived of love for so long, 
but finally, he had retained the prize- the golden ticket! 
Sonnets have been spouted about love since before the 
time of Shakespeare, books about romance were 
considered classic works of art. People slow danced to 
love songs, went out on dates, hired match makers, went 
to singles bars, even got online in the hopes of snagging 
that one, special person. His one, special person was Dana 
Katherine Scully. She was his one in five billion, she made 
him whole, she was his constant, his touchstone. She was 
everything, and she intoxicated him even as she kept him 
sane and grounded. He couldn't live without her, and he 
never even wanted to try. When he had taken her into his 
arms, into his bed- or hers, depending on the night- he 
wasn't just worshipping her body with his own, he was 
opening his heart to hers, their souls joining just as 
tangibly as their physical selves were. He knew how 
flowery and mushy that all sounded, but it was the truth, 
his truth, and hers. 

But now...

It was eating at him, making him miserable, 
making him ache all over. He wanted to know how Scully 
had become pregnant. Part of him had hoped their 
fertility doctor had kept some of his earlier... donation, 
and she had tried again, after his disappearance, only for 
it to mysteriously take. Somehow though, that just didn't 
seem likely to him, didn't feel right. With some 
resentment, he wondered why she hadn't been more 
forthcoming about it all, offering him what he felt were 
well deserved answers upon his awakening, especially 
the first time he noticed her more... well-rounded 
appearance. But she had never spoken much of it, except 
to offer him a cryptic smile and a due date. To be fair, she 
had stopped being so talkative and stopped making 
overtures to their involvement and their love because of 
him and his nasty attitude. He knew he had behaved so 
coldly to her, particularly after finding out about her 
pregnancy. There was nothing more he wanted than to 
fall into her welcoming arms, bury his head against her 
breast, while she held him and stroked back his hair with 
cool, deft fingers, soothing away all his hurt and doubt as 
she peppered his face with soft, tender kisses, just as she 
had done for him so many times before. And yet, for 
some reason not even completely clear to him, he had 
refused her touches and kisses and sighs, denying them 
both that healing connection, leaving each of them bereft 
and drifting through an emotional sea of turmoil, without 
any hope of rescue.

"Dammit," he cursed again. He glanced down at 
all of the stupid laundry he was forced to do- he had 
found piles of it in the corner of his bedroom upon his 
return, for some odd reason- and a fresh surge of anger 
towards Scully emerged.

She kept my apartment, paying for it out of her own 
pocket all these months, leaving it as I had left it. She cleaned it, 
paid my bills, fed my fish, even retained my damn newspaper 
subscription, but she couldn't wash my fucking laundry?! Not 
to mention, most of my tee shirts are missing. Shit, maybe she 
used them as cleaning rags to dust this hole. God knows, it's 
spotless, even though I never dusted... Such nasty, bitter 
thoughts bubbled to the surface of his mind, growing 
thick and toxic in his soul. How could he think such evil 
things about the woman he loved? He admitted to himself 
that it wasn't fair, not in the slightest. It was downright 
cruel, he knew, when he really thought about it, which 
surprised him. He'd had no idea that he could harbor 
such hostility towards the one person he knew had never 
stopped searching for him... not until they'd found him 
lying dead in that field...

He wondered if that could be the source of his 
anger. Scully had buried him in the ground. Buried him! 
He was in the dark, cold and alone, and yet... he had no 
bad memories of it at all, no feelings of isolation or 
suffocation. He couldn't remember a thing about being 
dead. He then contemplated over the fact that she had 
refused letting anyone perform an autopsy on him. She, 
as his next of kin, had also refused any embalming done 
to him, which was the norm for most people in this day 
and age. He knew that a body that didn't get embalmed 
would decay rather quickly, eventually turning to dust... 
almost as if it never was. But by avoiding embalming had 
also kept his body pure for his return... 

He pondered over that thought, just as he realized 
how she had kept his apartment for him, had continued to 
make it clean and homey. It made sense for her to do so 
while he was missing. He himself had done little things in 
Scully's apartment when she'd gone missing so many 
years ago. And thankfully, she had been returned to him 
alive. She'd been comatose, sure, but still living and 
breathing, even if only in the most basic sense.

But he had not... He had been returned to her with 
months old scars upon his face and body, naked and 
vulnerable. He reappeared into her world- and he just 
realized now that she had been pregnant at that time as 
well, much to his horror and regret- dead, without 
movement, without breath, without life. His body was 
there, but he was gone. She'd have had no choice but to 
bury him, doing the unthinkable to her perfect other... 
And yet... and yet, she had still kept his things in place, 
surrounding herself with them, even though it would 
seem foolish, perhaps even morbid to do so.

Is it possible that Scully somehow knew I'd find a way 
back to her? he dared to wonder. Could it be that she expected 
me, even as they lowered my casket into the cold, hard earth? 
Did she love me so much that she felt even death itself could not 
keep us apart for long... The ideas swimming in his head 
were just too fantastic to believe, as much as he would 
have liked to. It sounded like something he would have 
thought, a lifetime ago. But Scully, even though he knew 
she loved him dearly, she would be too sensible to believe 
in such nonsense, to rely on instinct and emotion over 
science and logic... wouldn't she?

"She still could have washed my damn clothes," he 
muttered out loud.

"No, I'm sorry, but I couldn't," a voice said from 
the laundry room doorway, and he jumped nearly a mile 
at the surprise. "Oh, Mulder," she whispered contritely, "I 
didn't mean to-"

As happy as he was to see her, something kept him 
from expressing it. Instead, he responded with irritation. 
"Scully, what are you doing here?"

She shrugged, walking into the laundry room, 
waddling over to him in a most adorable manner, 
although he refused to mention it. "I... felt restless, I 
guess."

"You should be home, taking it easy," he ordered 
in a stern tone, looking away from her. "I thought 
pregnant women needed a lot more sleep."

"I get enough sleep," she lied easily, coming closer 
to stand beside him. She looked upon him adoringly.

Her gaze only unnerved him, worsened his mood. 
"Well, you shouldn't be driving," he grunted in 
annoyance, angry not with her presence but with his 
inability to deal with it. "When we made our get away 
earlier tonight, you could barely fit behind the wheel of 
your car! You're a danger to yourself and the..." he 
gestured to her stomach, unable to even say the word, 
baby, "and to everyone else out on the road!" His eyes 
gleamed. He didn't know why, but he wanted to scold 
her, wanted to punish her. After all she had done for him, 
all she meant to him, he couldn't escape this need to hurt 
her. He didn't want to do it, but he couldn't stop himself.

Unexpectedly to him, Scully smiled and rested a 
delicate hand on his bicep, ignoring his bitterness and 
instead focusing on the concern underlying it. "I took a 
cab over, Mulder."

"Oh." He then lapsed into silence, feeling chastised 
by her answer and her kindness.

"But you're definitely right," she added, "I 
shouldn't be driving anymore. I wouldn't want to 
endanger anyone, especially the baby..." She caressed her 
huge belly with a light touch and smiled again.

"Or yourself," Mulder heard himself say. He 
blinked. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He realized 
her motions must have distracted him. He had found the 
gesture beyond touching and even a little alluring. But he 
tamped his reactions to her beauty down deep inside. He 
thought there was no need to get all hot and bothered or 
touched to tears over someone who had bigger and better 
things to worry about than he.

"Or myself," she amended, turning her Mona Lisa 
smile back to him.

Mulder swallowed the lump in his throat and 
averted his gaze. Too much emotion was swirling and 
churning within. Some of it was loving, and hopeful, but 
most of it was fear and anguish and anger and 
uncertainty. He didn't want to take those negative 
feelings out on her, on a pregnant woman, who looked at 
him with eyes as blue as the ocean on a clear day. He had 
the feeling he was going to hurt her anyway, tonight, but 
honestly, he did not want to.

"So, why couldn't you?" he asked quietly, anxious 
to change the subject. "Do my laundry, I mean? Not that 
you should have to, but, considering the rest of the 
upkeep you did for my apartment... is the detergent 
harmful to the baby or something?"

"No," she assured him, chuckling softly. She 
touched his arm again and those beautiful eyes of hers 
suddenly flooded with tears.

Shit, he thought, what did I say? He knew- or at 
least, he'd heard- that pregnant women were extremely 
hormonal and could get pretty moody and emotional. 
That was understandable, considering what was going on 
inside their bodies. But he wasn't quite used to Scully 
being this way, so... open and softhearted, at least not this 
blatantly. Of course, she had never been pregnant before, 
so he honestly had no basis of comparison.

He was becoming uncomfortable being around her 
again, which was truly breaking his heart. He knew it 
wasn't anything she had done, not directly. It was all him, 
and his tormented soul and his wanting to know the 
answers to questions he was simply too much of a coward 
to ask. Making a show of checking his watch, he opened 
up one of the washing machine lids. "You should go," he 
told her coldly, no longer able to handle their close 
proximity. "I've got to finish up this shit load of laundry 
that you couldn't do." He paused, wincing inwardly. How 
could he have said such a thing to the woman he loved? 
He was being such a bastard.

Scully's eyes blinked back tears of confusion, shock 
and pain. "I- I'm sorry," she stammered, clearly stunned 
by his unexpected dismissal of her. 

He also noticed the color rising in her cheeks, and 
he knew that she was getting angry as well. Mulder was 
perversely glad for that fact. He had always hated being 
in the path of her temper in the past, but right now, he 
was hurting her and he knew it but he couldn't stop 
himself. And if he was incapable of stopping his 
nastiness, then he wanted her to be able to defend herself 
against him. What a warped, twisted world I live in, he 
marveled at the absurdity where that sort of reasoning 
would actually make sense.

"Don't be sorry," he snapped, "just be gone!" Jesus, 
I've done it again! Shut up, you fucking asshole! Shut up before 
she kills you... or you kill yourself!

"Why don't you go upstairs, Mulder?" she 
suggested, her tone clipped, barely controlled. He saw her 
clench her hands a few times. "I'll finish up your damn 
laundry for you." Using her bulk to her advantage, Scully 
pushed him out of the way, knowing that he avoided her 
large stomach like he'd avoid the plague. She started to 
transfer a load of his clothes from the washer to a nearby 
dryer.

Careful, as if afraid that his mere touch could hurt 
her or the baby, Mulder gently, but deftly maneuvered 
her back and out of his way. "Go home, Scully," he 
snarled. "I'm a big boy, back from the dead and 
everything! I think I can handle doing some stupid-ass 
laundry!"

"Fine," she hissed after a prolonged amount of 
stunned silence. "I'll go, Mulder. It's obvious that my 
presence is upsetting you this evening." She started for 
the doorway.

"Don't you need to call a cab? Do you need some 
money?" he asked, his concern shining through in spite of 
him not wanting it to.

"I've got my cell phone and my wallet, Mulder," 
she hissed. "I'm a big girl, pregnant and everything!"

Throwing his words and tone back at him did 
nothing to improve his nasty mood. "Yeah, whatever, 
Scully! And while you're out, maybe you could go buy 
me some new tee shirts! Most of mine are missing, so I'm 
assuming you probably donated them to charity... or 
maybe you gave them all away to your new partner, 
Agent Dog-shit!" He had loved screaming at her, loved 
insulting Doggett, but he came to regret it the moment the 
words had escaped his stupid mouth.

Scully turned back and he recoiled in actual fear 
over the amount of anger flashing in her blue eyes. "You 
asshole!" she swore, surprising him. "Your fucking tee 
shirts are at my place! I've been wearing them to bed 
every night since you... since your disappearance! And I 
haven't washed your stupid laundry because I'd come 
over here during the day while you were gone to take a 
nap in your bed- the bed where we would... and I would 
surround myself with your clothes just to get a hint of 
your goddamned, fucking scent!" Her chest was heaving, 
tears threatening to spill at any moment. Her color was 
high and she looked like she was about to murder 
something... or someone...

Mulder was utterly shocked and appalled. Shocked 
over the anguish she had obviously felt through out his 
absence, and appalled by the way he had been treating 
her since his return. "Scully, I..."

"I'll wash all of your tee shirts tonight at home and 
have them returned to you tomorrow, all right?" she 
muttered. Then she began to cry despite her valiant 
attempts to hold them at bay.

Guilt, compassion and love surged through 
Mulder and instinctively, he took a step towards her, his 
hand outstretched. "Scully..."

"Don't touch me, Mulder," she warned him, and 
he refrained from trying, knowing from experience that 
her tone meant business. "Not... not right now. I'll... see 
you tomorrow." Then she waddled out of the laundry 
room, wiping at her teary eyes. She rounded the corner, 
disappearing from sight, and possibly from his life 
forever. A moment later, he heard the main door to his 
apartment building shut soundly.

Mulder slammed his fists down onto the washing 
machine in a primal fit of rage. "FUCK!!!" he screamed at 
the top of his lungs. He then heard a baby cry, a cat 
screech from right outside the window and a fellow 
tenant scream, "Shut the hell up!" at him.

The hot tears flowing out of his own tortured eyes, 
Mulder was scared shitless that he had just ruined the 
best relationship he had ever had in his entire life- or 
death, apparently. He didn't know if it had the ability to 
pick up where they had left off so many months ago at the 
time of his abduction, but he was sure the way he'd just 
treated his beloved certainly hadn't helped that cause 
along. He honestly couldn't fathom why he had been so 
cruel to the one person he knew had always loved him 
unconditionally; the one person he loved unconditionally 
in return, but he could only speculate in his agony that 
since he was in so much pain, he wanted someone else to 
feel as badly. Why he had chosen Scully, he supposed, 
was because she was the one always around him. That 
plus the fact, as the old saying goes, you always hurt the one 
you love.

Wiping futilely at his eyes, Mulder dumped 
another load of laundry- towels and sheets this time- into 
the washing machine. Some of the stuff on the top of the 
heap didn't want to fit into the small washer. Frustrated 
and already depressed and pissed off at himself, he 
started shoving it angrily into the machine, even kicking 
the side of it for good measure, for all the good it would 
do. Grabbing up a corner of a pillowcase, he was about to 
just start throwing some of the shit into the trash can in 
the corner of the room, when he paused, suddenly 
detecting a certain, familiar scent, as it lightly wafted up 
to his nostrils. He inhaled deeply for a moment, instantly 

recognizing it as Scully's natural scent. His eyes growing 
wide, he grabbed that pillowcase back up, gripping it 
tightly and holding it up to his face. He inhaled again, 
and the scent was unmistakable now. Scully really had 
been sleeping in his bed, her sweet head resting on his 
pillows. He could easily imagine her taking a midday 
nap, clutching desperately at one of his work shirts, trying 
to breathe in his scent with each intake of air, just as he 
was doing now with her own on this pillowcase. She had 
probably cried herself to sleep, remembering with perfect 
clarity, every time they had made love in that bed, every 
night they had fallen asleep in post-coital bliss, their 
heads swimming in the afterglow, whispering words of 
love. She probably remembered every morning they had 
awoken in that bed, their limbs entangled together, her 
titian head resting comfortably on his shoulder or chest, 
his nose nuzzling her hair...

Mulder deposited some quarters into the washing 
machine, but kept the pillowcase out, clutching it as 
desperately as he knew Scully had done with his clothing 
in the months during his absence and then burial. He 
didn't hold much hope for actually getting any sleep 
tonight, but he thought perhaps smelling Scully's sweet 
scent, even if she wasn't there personally, might give him 
some comfort.

After starting up that last load, Mulder took his 
consolation prize- the Scully scented pillowcase- and sat 
down heavily on a chair beside the dryers and began to 
sob. "Oh, Scully... God, I'm so sorry..."



Scene Seventeen: "Mulder in 
Scullyland" [Rated NC-17]

May 2001
Georgetown
Dana Scully resi- and Fox Mulder... and William Scully-
Mulder residence
7:22 p.m.

Mulder couldn't believe this was real! It was as if 
he really had died and the months of resurrection had 
been merely a dream, a preparation for this heavenly 
reward. But this wasn't a dream; rather, a dream come 
true! The baby in his arms gurgled and squirmed in a 
most realistic manner, and the beatific creature currently 
locking lips with him, well, he had no doubt she was an 
angel, but she was of the entirely earth-bound persuasion. 
Good thing, too, he thought wickedly, because her wings 
would only get in the way when I tackle her on the bed and have 
my way with her in six weeks...

That sobering thought would have made him sigh, 
if his mouth wasn't currently busy sucking on his 
partner's tongue. Six weeks. Six. Damn. Long. Weeks! It 
was torturous enough to realize how long it had been for 
them since the last time they had made love. Then, he was 
missing for months, dead for a few more. But suddenly, 
he was miraculously back from the dead, able to fall into 
his beloved's welcoming arms. He had chosen to act like 
an asshole instead, pushing her away, while she was 
heavily pregnant with their child, refusing them both the 
love and assurance they each needed and craved from the 
other. He had nearly blown it, giving into depression and 
anguish, instead of talking to her, asking the questions he 
needed to ask... he behaved this way with her until... 
until... she'd had a pregnancy scare- a partial abruption, 
she had called it. It was then that he realized what he 
could have lost, all that he nearly had...

He shuddered at the thought, unable to refrain. He 
could feel Scully's lips tense against his, her hand on his 
elbow tightening in concern. She could read him so well, 
even while they were kissing, she could sense the subtle 
tinge of worry and regret seeping into his soul. He didn't 
want her scared, or fretting over him. He reassured her 
that he was fine, not by breaking the kiss- which he did 
not want to do- but by deepening it, if that were possible. 
He stopped sucking on her tongue, only to delve his own 

into the far depths of her throat. Knowing some of her... 
ahem... talents when it came to their sexual repertoire, he 
knew he was in no danger of causing her to gag. God 
knows, she's had something much bigger down her throat, he 
mused inwardly, his ribald thoughts bringing forth a 
memory or two that he had to force out of his mind. It 
was going to make things very uncomfortable for him in 
the crotch of his pants if he didn't. 

Recalling where he'd left off in his trip down 
recent-memory lane, it was after the partial abruption 
scare that he finally realized that Scully and their baby 
needed him, almost as much as he needed them. And of 
course, by that time, Scully's doctor in the hospital had 
informed her that she should refrain from sexual 
intercourse for the duration of the pregnancy, to ensure 
the baby would continue to a full-term delivery. Damn kill 
joy! After some cajoling, once Scully fully recovered her 
ordeal, Mulder did get her to indulge in a little... sexual 
non-intercourse, fooling around here and there, touching 
this, rubbing that, with fingers and lips and... it was 
immensely enjoyable, the few times they actually did, but 
it just wasn't the same thing as the real thing.

Six more weeks...

Mulder tried to forget about his anxiousness for 
those six weeks to pass, yet again! If he focused on it too 
much- as he'd been doing since they started kissing- he 
knew it would only make the time pass much more 
slowly. Besides, what he had now, what he was doing 
now, was so incredible in its own right, he really couldn't 
complain. 

He was cradling his beautiful, newborn son in his 
arms- and his son had Scully's lovely eyes- and making 
out with the woman he loved more than life itself! He 
began to lick the insides of her mouth, tickling her tongue 
with his own, and she groaned in pleasure into his breath. 
And again, that old, familiar tingling down south began to 
develop. Uh-oh! This is going to be a long, six weeks, no way 
around it.

Something did finally affect his ardor after awhile 
though. It was a smell... a very smelly smell. His nostrils 
inhaling as the only means of breathing- his mouth was 
still occupied- he realized it was a horrendous smell. And it 
was getting stronger. He knew it wasn't his lovely Scully. 
She always smelled so wonderful... well, except for that 
time shit had exploded all over them... Shit! That's what 
the smell smelled like! His satisfaction at realizing such a 
thing did little to quell his disgust over it.

They pulled apart at the same time, both slightly 
breathless from their twenty-minute kiss. Scully's nose 
wrinkled in distaste.

"Scully?" he asked, gazing at her face, smiling at 
the cute way her nose wrinkled.

"Yes?" she asked, gazing right back.

"Did you fart?"

Her eyes went wide. "What? No! Mulder, that's the 
baby!"

"Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly, before looking 
down at the baby in question, who was currently smiling 
and looking back up at his father. "William?" Mulder 
cooed at his son. "Did you fart?"

Scully rolled her eyes. "Like he's gonna tell you, 
Mulder. He probably just pooped his pants."

"Oh..." Mulder said, as if pondering. Then he 
seemed to understand. "Oh!" he cried, trying to give the 
baby back to Scully with a disgusted, "Ew!"

She smiled sweetly at him and backed away, 
refusing to take William. "Welcome to fatherhood, my 
love."

He scrunched up his face, realizing what she was 
expecting him to do. Didn't she know whom he was 
dealing with? He never did anything the right way, but 
rather the Mulder way! This was going to be a challenge... 
"Scully, you know me. I... I'll probably get shit all over 
the place, and put his diaper on backwards..."

The woman sighed wearily. "Mulder, remind me 
again, where did you graduate college? Oh, yeah. Oxford, 
wasn't it?"

"Yeah, well, I didn't take Diaper Changing 101," he 
sniffed. "They didn't even offer that class until I after I 
graduated." He offered her a winning smile, hoping that 
his charm would get him out of it.

"Changing table is in the nursery," she reminded 
him, "right where you set it up. Everything you need will 
be in there."

"Including you?" he asked desperately.

"Mulder," she chuckled in surprise. "You'll be fine. 
My God, it's a diaper change, not rocket science."

"Rocket science doesn't stink this bad," he 
informed her, then gave her one last look of need, which 
included his famous puppy dog eyes. "Please, love, just 
for moral support?" 

She wavered, and he knew he had her. Thank God 
for his puppy dog eyes! Many a woman had been 
susceptible to them in the past, but Scully had always 
been the most affected by them. It was her undoing... and 
his big reprieve out of a great many things. He didn't 
escape the arched eyebrow Scully gaze- something that he 
was especially susceptible to- but he didn't mind, since he 
found it so sexy. He smiled as she followed behind him 
into the nursery down the hall.

Once in William's new room, Mulder gently set the 
squirming boy down on the cheerful changing table- that 
he and the Gunmen had set up; Scully hadn't known, but 
he'd needed a little help- and awkwardly but carefully 
took off the baby's sleeper. Then he reached for a clean 
diaper and opened it, setting it next to William's butt. He 
lined it up evenly to ensure a quick and tidy exchange, 
much to Scully's amusement, and he took a deep breath, 
as if preparing for the Boston Marathon. Then, ignoring 
Scully's chortle, he ever so slowly opened up the diaper...

He was truly surprised that such a small amount of 
poop could make that much of a stink! He tried, 
unsuccessfully, not to gag, as he grabbed for the baby 
wipes and cleaned off the baby's bum. "Jesus! This is 
disgusting! We're gonna need gas masks for this kid, 
Scully!" He coughed, looked like he was about to toss his 
cookies, but managed to hold it in.

"Oh, please," Scully groused, "it's not as bad as 
touching Tooms' bile, or visiting the Peacock's house."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," he mumbled, trying 
to breathe through his mouth. He felt that gagging reflex 
starting up again, so he held his breath and folded up the 
dirty diaper, thrusting it at Scully, who snagged it deftly 
and popped it into the diaper genie her mother had just 
gotten for them.

"All gone, you big baby," Scully cooed.

"He's not that big, Scully," Mulder pointed out, 
placing the clean diaper under William's rump. "Even if 
his stink is."

"I was talking to you," she retorted playfully, and 
he had to laugh.

"Very funny," he began, his mouth open in mid-
sentence, when all of a sudden, his son decided to let 
loose with a stream of urine, which covered Mulder's 
face- yes, including his opened mouth- and the front of 
his shirt. "What the hell?" he stammered, thinking 
quickly and fastening the diaper shut on his son's little 
body, which seemed to be pretty evil when it came to 
bodily functions. He picked the child up and gave him to 
his significant other. "Here," he said, again, trying not to 
throw up, tasting urine on his tongue, "you can get him 
dressed!"

Scully watched as Mulder flew out of the room and 
made a beeline for the bathroom. She looked down at her 
son and clucked her tongue at him. "William," she said, 
laying him down to dress him, "that wasn't a very nice 
thing to do to your daddy... funny... but not nice at all." 
She smiled lovingly at the baby the entire time she spoke.

Mulder had wasted no time in yanking off his tee 
shirt, washing his face, and his tongue, then brushing his 
teeth and his tongue and the entire inside of his mouth for 
a good five minutes. When he emerged, he was freshly 
washed and wearing a clean shirt- well, sort of. It was 
from the hamper, but it was cleaner than the one he'd just 
removed- he bumped into Scully and William in the 
hallway, headed for the living room. He followed them 
down, noticing Scully's valiant attempt to keep her smile 
hidden, although she was not quite pulling it off.

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh it up, Scully," he 
grumbled. "Maybe next time, you'll get the hose down."

"I'm sorry, Mulder," she began to laugh, unable to 
hold it in any longer. "Guess I should have warned you. 
You have to get that next diaper on fast- especially with 
little boys."

"Gee, ya think?" he sighed. He wasn't angry. He 
was thoroughly grossed out, but not angry. He gave his 
son a silly-stern gaze. "And you, little man, it's a good 
thing you're cute!"

"I don't think he cares either way," Scully 
chuckled, looking at the baby's completely bored 
expression. She sat down on the couch with him in her 
arms, and Mulder sat down beside her.

"Ah, William..." he sighed, then smirked at his 
partner.

"What?" she asked him.

"Nothing..."

"Mulder?"

"Ah, I'm just surprised you didn't keep up with 
your Moby Dick theme, and name the poor kid Ishmael."

"What do you think his middle name is?" she 
replied, deadpan.

His jaw dropped. "Uh, Scully...? You're um, 
kidding... right?"

She laughed at his panic face. "Well, yeah. Come 
on, who names their kid Ishmael, anyway? Even as a 
middle name?"

"True."

"I named him Moby."

He snorted. "Bite me, Scully. Come on, what is it?"

"Um..." and she glanced away for a moment.

"Scully..."

"Yeah?"

"What's his middle name?"

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"No."

"Then you'll just have to wait for the birth 
certificate to arrive."

"Dammit, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I just named him after 
someone..."

"Skinner?" he asked. "As in Walter?" He was a 
little surprised. He always thought that was sort of a 
wiener name, but hey, it beat Ishmael. Besides, Skinner 
had been a good friend to them both over the years.

"I thought about that, but no."

"God, not after Doggett-"

"He's been very kind, but no, Mulder, I didn't 
name him after Agent Doggett."

"Uh, Monica Reyes?" he asked.

She laughed. "Sure, if he'd been a girl, maybe!"

"One of the guys?"

"Now, how could I do that? I'd only end up 
causing hurt feelings between them, if I chose just one of 
them."

"True." He pondered. "Hmm, William Melvin-
Ringo-John?"

"You got Frohike and half the Beatles in that 
middle name, Mulder, and no, I didn't."

He thought of something else and laughed again. 
"Let me guess. His middle name is William, too, after your 
father."

"Mulder, I love you."

"Shit, what did you do?"

"Fox..."

"Aw, come on, Scully, I don't mind if you call me 
that when we're in bed, but you know I hate my name 
and..." He stopped, looked into her suddenly guilty face. 

"Scully?"

"I wanted him named after his father, too," she said 
in a quiet voice.

"Man..."

"It's only his middle name," she replied brightly.

"His name is basically mine in reverse," he sighed, 
shaking his head.

"Are you mad?" she whispered.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Mulder!"

"No," he groaned, "it's fine. But I think you should 

have made his middle name Scully, after your side. 
William Scully Mulder is cool."

"I like William Fox Mulder," she replied, "but if 
you really hate it, I'll go down and get it changed."

"How about just add to it?" he asked hopefully. 
"William Fox Scully Mulder."

"An awfully long name for a little boy."

"He won't always be little... unless, of course, he 
takes after you."

"Shut up, Mulder."

"I just think, since his first name is my middle 
name, and his middle name is my first name, and he's 
getting my surname, well, you need to be mentioned in 
there somewhere, too. I mean, jeez, honey, you had him, 
went through all the labor... let's throw you a bone, shall 
we?"

"Thanks, poopy-head," she muttered. "Okay, we 
can do that. But not right now. Got stuff to do!"

"What comes next?" Mulder asked, staring down 
at his son in wonder and amazement... and a little bit of 
fear.

"Dinner," she replied simply.

"You're hungry, aren't you, Scully?" he said, 
feeling like an insensitive ass for not second guessing her 
every need before she spoke of it. He wanted everything 
to be perfect for her. He wanted to be perfect for her, 
although he knew what a moot point that was. "I could 
order us a pizza," he offered, trying to make amends.

"Sure, Mulder, that would be nice," she agreed, 
somewhat distractedly and not even aware of his feelings 
of failure, "but I was actually referring to William here."

"Ah, yes," Mulder said, as if enlightened. "That's 
right, my son, you need to eat up if you're going to grow 
up big and strong like your mom and dad here." He 
reached out to caress the boy's downy head. "Well, except 
for your mom and the big part," he teased her again. 
"You need to grow much bigger than her, on account that 
she's so ti-"

"Don't say it," she commanded. "I am not tiny!"

"Scully," he teased her, feeling comfortable enough 
around her to joke so openly, without fear of reproach or 
bodily harm, "you are small, my love. S-M-all!"

"And you are a turd, Mulder! T-U-rd!"

He laughed, and kissed her, then watched in awe, 
and a fair amount of arousal, as she whipped out one of 
her voluptuous breasts- ah, the joys of motherhood!- and 
skillfully got William to latch on in the first try. The baby 
started suckling, his small hand gently patting the side of 
her breast.

"Can I be next?" Mulder asked suggestively, 
waggling his eyebrows at her.

She blushed, then decided to turn the tables on 
him. "Oh, sure, Mulder, sure, you can get the next 
feeding. Has your milk come in yet?"

Another laugh burst forth from his chest, this one 
lasting much longer, nearly becoming uncontrollable, 
until he noticed he was shaking the couch. Not wanting to 
jostle his son, or disrupt the baby's meal, Mulder forced 
himself to quiet. "Damn, Scully, spoken like a true smart-
ass! I think you've been hanging out with me too long."

Her face grew more thoughtful, sentimental over 
his remark. She reached with the hand not holding onto 
William to caress her partner's cheek. "Or not long 
enough. It'll never be enough."

Tears pricked behind his eyelids, threatened to 
spill. He gazed at the woman he loved with unabashed 
gratitude. "Have I told you lately that I love you?" he 
asked, taking her small hand in his, kissing it reverently.

"Recently, yeah, but I like hearing it, so you can tell 
me again."

"I love you, Scully," he chuckled, running his hand 
up and down her back. He couldn't believe how 
emotional he felt, how... sentimental. Scully was the only 
person who could bring out that side of him on a regular 
basis... although, he had the feeling that his son just 
might have the magical touch as well.

"I love you, too, Mulder." She smiled at him, then 
glanced down when her stomach started to growl loudly. 
They looked to each other and began to laugh.

"You hungry, Scully, or do you have a grizzly bear 
in your pocket?"

"Very funny," she retorted playfully. "I guess we 
should order that pizza now, huh?"

"I will," he promised, "but... could I just sit here 
for awhile... with you guys?" He felt suddenly shy.

Her heart swelled at his request. She loved that his 
need for intimacy with her and their son was as great as 
her own. "Of course, Mulder," she replied in a 
welcoming, loving tone. She wanted him to know that 
this was his right to be included, as much as it was hers. 
She never wanted him to feel as though he didn't belong, 
didn't fit in. She and William were his family and they 
loved and needed him, always. "Why don't you sit 
behind us, hold us?"

Mulder smiled at her suggestion and nodded 
eagerly, before scooting back, and pulling her carefully in 
front of him. His legs straddled either side of hers and he 
wrapped his arms around them both, while he rested his 
chin upon Scully's shoulder, peering down to stare at the 
child, who continued to wear a look of concentration, as 
he suckled away on one of the two most beautiful breasts 
in the world... according to Mulder.

"He's so cute," he found himself murmuring, even 
though he had never been the type to fawn over babies 
before. "Damn, he sure can eat!"

"Takes after his father on both counts," Scully 
laughed sweetly.

"You think I'm cute, Scully?" he asked, and for 
some reason, this revelation actually made him blush.

"Cute, handsome, gorgeous... sexy," Scully said, 
going down the list, and staring back at him suggestively. 
"And that just scratches the surface of the kind of 
adjectives I'd use to describe you." She winked at him.

Mulder was momentarily speechless. Scully had 
always been more demonstrative of her feelings and 
desires, rather than verbal. Even after they became lovers, 
while she complimented him on his physical appearance 
quite often, she usually reserved it for foreplay, 
lovemaking or afterglow. If she said anything to him 
outside of those moments, it was usually done so sweetly, 
but somewhat shyly. She did not look the least bit shy 
right now. 

"Um... I think he looks like you," he stuttered, still 
shocked over Scully's latest string of compliments. "He's 
got your beautiful eyes, that's for sure. Think he'll have 
red hair, too?"

"It's possible," she pondered, leaning back to kiss 
his cheek as a thank you to his own compliment. She ran 
her fingers gently over the soft peach fuzz covering their 
child's head. Right now, it looked like a reddish blond. 
She secretly hoped he'd turn out to be dark-haired, like 
his father. He also had his father's nose, she could tell 
already, and it made her smile giddily. "But most babies 

are born with blue eyes, Mulder. It just depends on 
genetics as to whether they'll stay that color. Any time 
during their first year, they could turn."

"Either way, he's got your big, beautiful eyes," he 
told her. "Their shape and everything. And maybe they'll 
stay blue." He got a whiff of Scully's hair, as she turned 
and that nose she loved- and that he'd passed onto his 
son- got caught in it. He inhaled deeply and for the 
countless time that evening, felt stirrings returning down 
south.

"I think hazel eyes would be lovely, too," Scully 
pointed out, nuzzling back against him. Just as she felt his 
burgeoning erection press into her lower back, Mulder 
began to kiss the side of her neck.

"Oh, God, Mulder," she purred. She had always 
been blatantly affected by his touch. "Is watching me 
breast feed actually turning you on?"

"Everything you do turns me on, Scully," he 
admitted, as he licked the sensitive skin just below her 
ear.

Scully gasped at the contact, but decided to tease 
him. "Really? I hope you'll remember that the next time 
I'm up to my elbows in our son's snot, pee, poop or 
puke."

He chuckled. "You'll still be hot," he promised, 
"although I'll wait till you change your clothes and wash 
your hands before I pounce on you."

Her own chuckle quickly turned into another gasp 
as he slipped her earlobe into his mouth and sucked it 
hard.

"Mulder..." she moaned. "Don't torture me, 
please. We've got six more weeks until-"

"Sexual intercourse," he growled into her ear, 
making her shiver. "But there are other alternatives until 
then, if you recall."

"Like what?" she asked, closing her eyes and 
leaning more heavily back against him.

"I could go down on you," he suggested, this time 
nibbling on her neck.

"Mmm..." she sighed again, until her eyes flew 
open and she sat up, looking back at him and causing 
William to lose his hold on her. He rooted and she gently 
guided him back to her breast, where he continued to 
suckle. "No! I mean, Mulder, we can't. I'm still bleeding 
and-"

"I don't mind, honest," he interrupted her.

"Well, I do," she responded in all seriousness. She 
appreciated him offering, but she didn't think it would be 
sanitary. "I mean," she went on more gently, already 
anticipating the hurt expression that, of course, appeared 
on his face, "honey, that could be... unhealthy, for one 
thing. I wouldn't want us to risk it..." Her voice trailed 
off, hoping he would understand and not take offense.


"Fine," he grumbled, and at first she thought she 
had hurt his feeling, until he added with a sly grin, "I'll 
just finger you instead."

Scully coughed and sputtered in surprise, 
dislodging William from her breast again. He'd stopped 
sucking just a moment before and appeared to be done 
eating, and he ended his meal with a flourish, releasing 

his lips from his mother's breast and spitting up all down 
the front of her pajamas. Both of his parents stared down 
at him in awe at his ability to spew bodily fluids forth so 
gracefully.

"Damn, it's like watching The Exorcist," Mulder 
exclaimed. "He's got good aim, too, I'll tell you that. If he 
doesn't get stuck with your shortness, he's sure to follow 
in his old man's footsteps and be a basketball star!"

"Mulder," Scully grumped, "don't compare our 
son to Linda Blair, I'm not short and you are not a 
basketball star!"

He smirked. "I just meant the puking in general, 
not Linda Blair specifically. Oh, and you are short and I 
was a basketball star in high school... briefly," he said 
proudly. He took William from his sticky mother and 
held the child against his chest. "That's right, my boy, 
NBA here you come!"

Scully stood up, glancing down at the mess all over 
her shirt and she cringed from the feel of it. She looked at 
her significant other, her eyebrow arched most fetchingly. 
"Still think I'm hot?" she muttered.

"More than ever," he promised, standing up next 
to her, and leaning over as far as he could to kiss her 
pretty mouth without pressing against her anywhere else. 
"Why don't I call in for that pizza now, while you go 
change into something more... comfortable." He gave her a 
wink and licked his lips.

"Right." She started for the hallway, anxious to 
clean herself up.

"Oh, and Scully?" he called.

"Yeah?" She turned back to look at him.

"Welcome to motherhood, my love," he cracked, 
grinning wickedly at her.

Scully made a face and spun around on her heel. 
As she ventured to the bedroom, she chuckled softly and 
whispered, "Smart ass..."

***

Mulder sat at the kitchen table, chowing down on 
pizza in one hand, and cradling his sleeping son against 
his chest with the other. He seemed completely at home 
with this arrangement and Scully watched them both, her 
eyes misting over with unabashed love.

"I can take him for you, if you'd like, Mulder," she 
offered, taking a sip from her iced tea.

"It's okay, Scully, I got him," he assured her. "I 
mean, I know you're tired. Besides, unlike most men, I'm 
pretty decent at the whole multi-tasking thing, don't you 
think?"

"Definitely, Mulder," she agreed, smiling. "No 
other man has got anything over you, love."

He grinned back, feeling all squishy inside from 
her compliment, as well as her term of endearment. He 

could certainly get used to all of this on a daily basis. 
"Thanks, Scully. I'm in training though. Got to get used to 
all of this in the next six weeks."

"You mean holding William while you eat?" she 
asked in confusion. She took a small bite of her 
mushroom pizza. She wasn't sure about the six weeks 

reference. All she could think about happening in six 
weeks involved her mom taking the baby for the night, 
and she and Mulder spending that entire night in bed, 
humping like bunnies. Her cheeks grew rosy at the very 
thought.

Mulder seemed to know what she was thinking 
about and he grinned wolfishly at her. "I meant besides 
that, beautiful," he replied with a wink. "I'm talking about 
when your maternity leave is up, and I'll be the full-timer 
here in the parental duties during the week. I assume 
you'll be heading back to work by then, right? You know, 
taking that teaching job at Quantico. You'll be the best 
damn teacher they'll ever have, Scully... not to mention, 
the hottest."

Scully blushed harder. She had to admit that 
Mulder certainly did wonders for her self esteem, 
especially in light of the fact that she'd just had a baby 
and still felt bloated and uncomfortable and not at her 
most attractive. But he had mentioned something that she 
felt needed to be addressed between them. She wasn't 
exactly looking forward to it, but they both had agreed to 
be completely honest with each other from now on, with 
no more secrets.

"Um, Mulder, about the teaching job at Quantico, 
I... haven't said yes yet," she told him, somewhat 
sheepishly. She knew that a teaching job would definitely 
be more ideal for her now, especially in light of the fact 
that she had a loving family to come home to every night, 
and working at Quantico, with a specific schedule and set 
hours would enable her to do so without ever having to 
run off unexpectedly into the field, or get stuck in endless 
meetings, or too much paperwork, strange hours... But, if 
she left the X-Files... well, she just wasn't sure she could 
do that yet. She knew that deep down, Mulder still 
harbored resentment over being kicked out of- and later 
fired from- the department he himself had created all 
those years ago. If she left, too, then he would have no 
real ties there. But if she stayed, then he knew she would 
always accept and welcome his input or help on any 
given case, in a... clandestine, unofficial capacity, at least.

"I thought we talked about this, Scully." he said, 
sounding a trifle bit perturbed, but more concerned than 
anything else.

She averted her eyes, recalling that conversation 
with perfect clarity, not long before William was born, 
just a day or two before she'd had to flee with Monica 
Reyes to Georgia, to give birth. "I just... I don't know if I 
can leave, Mulder. I mean, all of our time, all those years. 
And Agent Doggett, I mean, he's a good guy, but I-"

"Scully," he interrupted her gently, "Agent 
Doggett will be okay. He's... trustworthy, I realize that 
now. And, as you said, he's a good guy. He's also capable 
of pulling through, even without your wonderful self 
backing him up. He's proven that, as well. He'll get a new 
partner... and not just a kid from accounting this time." 
He chuckled, remembering Leyla Harrison. The young 
lady was a star-struck follower of the X-Files division and 
of he and Scully, too. He remembered the thrill she had 
gotten when the two partners had visited with her in the 
hospital not long ago. She had barely survived her own 
ill-fated foray into the X-Files, and she promised that she 
was now content to admire it all from afar once again.

"Yeah, not Leyla Harrison, poor girl," she 
chuckled. "I think she had a crush on you, Mulder."

"No, actually, I think she had a crush on us, 
Scully," he amended. "She followed our exploits 
religiously, like we were some kind of... some kind of 
superheroes on TV or something." He laughed again. "I 
swear, I wouldn't be surprised if her diary was filled with 
love stories about us!"

This made her laugh harder. "Well, we're such a 
romantic couple, you see."

"I certainly think so," he replied tenderly, then 
rested a hand over hers, the grease from his pizza getting 
all over her knuckles.

"Me, too," she agreed, "but I didn't think we 
would be to anyone else."

"You're kidding me, right?" he asked 
incredulously. "Scully, we've been the talk of the water 
cooler for years! They even had some sort of pool on us, 
betting on if- ahem- when we'd finally get together."

"Ah, yes, Holly from records clued me in on that 
some years back. I wonder who eventually won?"

"We did, Scully," he told her. "We got the ultimate 
prize." His eyes blazed passionately from across the table 
at her.

She smiled lovingly in return. "We sure did, 
honey."

"Yep, $50,000 sure was a prize! I'm sure glad I bet," 
he joked and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Right..."

"Funny, huh?"

"That's one way of putting it, I guess."

"Ooh, you burn me, baby! But yeah, just about 
anyone but Agent Harrison could be good to work with 
Doggett."

"Well, Holly wouldn't," she said. "She's so little 
and-" she paused, glaring at him while he tried to stifle a 
laugh. "She is at least several inches shorter than I am, 
Mulder, and not nearly as tough!"

"Before or after you take your heels off, Scully?" 
She narrowed her eyes at him. "All right, I do have to 
agree with you, the last part at least," he said, keeping a 
straight face, but his eyes danced merrily. "Okay, so, not 
anybody will do, but old Dog can find someone willing to 
believe... like Agent Reyes, maybe. She's a little on the... 
weird side, but she'd probably work."

At this Scully did laugh. "A little on the weird side, 
Mulder? Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black!"

"Hardy-har-har," she harrumphed at her teasing. 
"You know what I mean."

"I do," she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. 
"And I completely agree with you, actually, well that 
Monica would be an excellent choice, I mean. She's very... 
open to the kinds of cases the X-Files typically deals in. I 
know Agent Doggett trusts her. And I do, too."

"You trust her?" Mulder asked, mildly surprised, 
especially knowing that Scully wasn't one to give out her 
trust easily. "Haven't known her for very long." He took a 
sip from his tea, then bent down to kiss his son's head. 
Scully had to force herself from bursting into sentimental 
tears and uttering, "Awww!"

"Monica was there with us, when we... found 
you," she replied quietly, and he nodded. "She was kind, 
tried to assist us as well as she could. Besides, she helped 
me give birth, Mulder. That's a very... intimate 
experience. She saw my..."

"Private parts?" he finished, his eyes smoldering. 
The thought of Scully's private parts always had that 
effect on him.

"I was going to say 'my most vulnerable side'," she 
sighed in embarrassment. "But yeah, now that you 
mention it, I guess she saw those, too."

"That's not fair," he pouted, not even hiding his 
jealousy. "She's been to visit Scullyland more recently than 
I have!"

"Jesus, Mulder!" she exclaimed as loudly as she 
dared, without waking the baby. "It's not as if we were 
exactly enjoying ourselves or anything! She was helping 
me give birth to our son..." She paused, recalling what 
he'd said, and her eyebrow went up. "And Scullyland? 
You make me sound like a damn amusement park!"

"Well, you can be amusing," he chided, and she let 
loose with an exasperated groan. "No, seriously though, 
you're just like a roller coaster," he informed her, his 
hazel eyes shining seductively at her.

She ignored the come on and instead demanded an 
explanation. "How's that, Mulder? Because people want 
to puke on me?" She gestured to their sleeping son, who 
had upchucked on her just an hour before.

"No," he explained, his voice turning thick as 
honey, and she knew she was in for it now. "It's for the 
good things, like..."

"Like...?"

"Like how a roller coaster usually starts out, going 
slowly up that first hill, up to the top, just like with us, 
Scully, like our relationship; starting out slow, and 
climbing ever upward, just about killing us with 
anticipation. And you've got these... beautiful, sleek lines, 
honey, so... curvy and sexy and irresistible to where you 
know I can't help but want to take you on. And when I 
finally get the nerve, and I'm there, riding it out with you, 
once you get going, it's... it's an adrenaline rush! We're 
going so fast, and so hot and I'm panting and holding on 
for dear life, and we're twisting and turning and writhing 
and moaning, and then BAM! I'm hit with the loop-de-
loop, and I'm disoriented, lost in the thrill of it, sailing 
higher and higher and we reach closer and closer and 
then I experience the biggest climax only such a 
wondrous ride can bring! And when it ends, I'm left 
screaming, and breathless, bathed in sweat and the sweet 
afterglow of euphoria, and even though I'm spent for the 
moment, all I can think about is when I'm gonna get to go 
again..."

Mulder looked at his beloved, recognized her 
aroused expression. Her eyes were glazed over, staring 
off into that metaphor of their lovemaking, her lips were 
parted, her chest was heaving, and her skin was flushed 
and sweaty. She nearly looked like she'd just been 
properly fucked... and metaphorically speaking, she had. 
It was the best he could do right now, what with her 
being tired and bleeding and unable to do the deed, and 
what with he holding their sleeping baby, and with that 
big table covered in pizza separating them.

"God, Mulder," she murmured breathlessly.

"Jesus, Scully," he sighed, thoroughly turned on 
himself. She looked so. Damn. Hot! "Did you just hit your 
own climax, too?"

"Um, no..."

"Would you like to?" he asked hopefully. He 
didn't mean to push, but he was so fucking horny by 
now, he felt like he was going to explode in his pants!

She narrowed her eyes at him, and not seductively 
either. "I'm going to kill you, Mulder!" she seethed. She 
had experienced too many years of sexual frustration 
because of this man, and now... "I think I'm going to 
explode thanks to that- that... roller coaster analogy... and 
if I do, I'm taking you with me!"

"Ah, but if it's the Scullycoaster, then what a way to 
go! I'll die a happy man!" He gave her his best come-
hither stare.

And that this, she laughed. What else could she do? 
"Anyway," she said, trying her damndest to change the 
subject, "Agent Reyes would be a good addition to the X-
Files team. I hope they consider her, and I hope she'll 
accept the job. I really do like her, Mulder. She kind of 
reminds me of... Missy."

He smiled at her, hoping that maybe Monica Reyes 
actually might end up joining their small band of misfits. 
If she was anything like Scully's late sister, Melissa, then 
she should fit right in. The eldest Scully sister had always 
struck Mulder as kind of strange. Of course, he didn't 
mention that out loud. Instead, he told her, "That's sweet, 
Scully," loving his woman and her sweetness so very 
much.

"She reminds me a little of you, too," she added, 
still thinking of it as a compliment, although now Mulder 
was beginning to wonder about this Monica Reyes. She 
must be one strange bird, indeed.

"Oh, how so?" he asked jokingly. "Is she incredibly 
well hung, too?"

Scully let loose with an honest-to-God belly laugh 
at his latest crack. But rather than reply haughtily, she 
decided to give him a taste of his own medicine, 
something she'd been becoming rather adept at doing 
lately. "Oh, you know, we were just riding that coaster so 
fast and so hard that I... absolutely forgot to check!" She 
gave him a wink.

"Wow, Scully, you're so provocative! Me likey. Me 
likey very much!"

"What? To see me and Monica Reyes...?" She 
couldn't even finish the sentence, her cheeks were 
burning.

"Hey, did I ever tell you about that time, when we 
went to help the guys in L.A. and I ran into Jade Blue 
Afterglow?" he said, recalling something that she'd made 
him think of with her last little tease.

She glowered at him, without a hint of playfulness. 
"Yeah, I remember running into Ms. Afterglow, Mulder," 
she muttered. "I guess you were so hot and bothered by 
her you forgot I was there, in the damn room with you?"

"Oh, no, no," he amended, "Scully, you know I 
didn't mean anything by that. I was just being a stupid 
idiot and I did apologize to you, profusely, if you recall. 
And honestly, the woman could not hold a candle to you- 
and yes, I totally and completely mean that- but I'm 
talking about after you saved my ass in the video game 
and we went with the guys to that bar to celebrate?"

"Ah, yes, the testosterone lovefest," she grunted 
unenthusiastically, and she folded her arms across her 
chest. "Whoop-ti-doo!"

He knew he had to think fast or he was in danger 
of pissing her off for quite some time. She may not have 
been pregnant anymore, but those hormones were still 
just a churning away inside of her. "Um, yeah, sorry 
about that. But anyway, when you excused yourself to the 
bathroom, or something, and I was alone at the bar, 
waiting for you to come back, who should show up, but 
Ms. Afterglow herself and she came right up to me and-"

"I'm not sure how this ends, Mulder," she warned 
him, "but I'm not liking this story so far."

"No, it's not what you think, Scully, honest," he 
assured her. "When she came up to talk to me, you know 
what she asked me?"

"Not really, and I'm not sure that I want to."

"Aw, come on, just guess!"

She rolled her eyes. "What, Mulder? Did she ask 
for your number? Invite you for a one-night stand?"

"No, but she sure wanted to get it on with my 
fucking hot partner," he told her, his eyes gleaming.

"What? Come on, Mulder, I'm your partner and... 
that's... just... what?"

"Yep," he said, nodding at her. "You are so damn 
hot, Scully, that if you ever did want to play for the home 
team, you'd have no trouble finding a date." His mouth 
began to water, thinking of Scully doing sexy, lesbonic 
things with sexy lesbonic people. He couldn't help it. He 
was a guy.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing for you that I'm not 
interested, then, huh," she smirked, flattered, although 
kind of embarrassed by what he'd revealed to her. "There 
are so many lovely ladies to choose from..."

"None so lovely as you, though," he said, reaching 
out to kiss her hand.

She let him kiss it, then yanked it playfully away 
from his grasp. "You know, you have an annoying habit 
of getting out of bad situations by the seat of your pants 
with that... charm of yours."

"Don't I know it, Scully," he had to agree. "But um, 
I never told you about that before because, well, first of 
all, I figured if I even mentioned that bimbo's name, 
you'd be pissed, and I was right!" She stuck her tongue 
out at him. "And, I told her no, you wouldn't be 
interested."

"Because I don't swing that way."

"Because you were- are- mine, and I don't share," 
he replied, staring into her bright, blue eyes. "And I 
wouldn't, you know. Lend myself out to anyone, I mean. 
I'm yours."

"Damn straight," she agreed. "I don't share either."

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Would it surprise you to learn that I'm sporting 
wood that's bigger and harder than a redwood right 
about now, what with all this talk about you and Monica 
Reyes and lesbians and hopefully me thrown in there 
somewhere?"

She smiled wickedly. "Six weeks, darling. Six. 
Long. Weeks."

"You are such a tease, Scully," he snickered. "But 
never you mind. You are going to get it soon enough!"

"That's an empty threat, Mulder. You'll forget all 
about any payback. You always forget."

"Not this time, hot stuff," he promised seductively. 
"This one is worth remembering."

Scully shivered with expectation. "I can't wait, 
Mulder."

"Argh! Six weeks!" he groaned suddenly, 
completely exasperated by the wait, and it was only the 
first day. "Why couldn't it have been for six hours?"

"Mulder," she said, amused and empathetic to his 
frustration. She was equally anxious, and equally horny, 
if she had to be completely honest with herself, although 
she winced at the idea of having sex six hours after giving 
birth. "I understand what you're feeling right now, I 
honestly do. But I still think we should continue our 
discussion about what I should do after my six week 
maternity leave is up and-"

"Stay in bed with me and boink all night?" he 
asked hopefully.

"Lovely, Mulder," she sighed. "And yes, but I 
meant after the boinking..."

"Oh, you mean staying on the X-Files? Scully, I 
think you should take the teaching job, like we talked 
about."

"But do you really think it'll be all right down in 
the basement? I mean, if neither one of us is there to 
continue and protect the work? I don't know if I could 
just walk away... It's not just your life's work, Mulder, it's 
mine, too. I just wouldn't want it to all crumble and fall 
because one of us isn't there to do the maintenance."

"I get what you're saying, Scully, believe me, I do. I 
had the same doubts myself... initially. But I think we've 
got something even more important to concentrate on 
now." He glanced down pointedly at their slumbering 
son, who burped in his sleep, making Mulder smile 
proudly and murmur, "That's my boy," which, in turn, 
made Scully smile, equally proud. 

"I know, Mulder, but..."

"It's not like we have to completely walk away 
from the X-Files," he persisted, doing his best to bring his 
point home, make it stick. "You can still act as a consult to 
the division, assist them whenever they might need you. 
And, when I'm not busy being a stay-at-home super-
dad..." She smiled at that, too. "... the Gunmen and I can 
work on things in the private sector. We discussed this a 
long time ago, remember? When I said I'd choose you 
over the FBI any day. Well, now I'd choose you and little 
Will here over them, too. You guys are my life, Scully, and 
I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you both 
safe. It'll be okay, trust me." He looked pleadingly into 
her eyes.

"I do, Mulder. I've always trusted you, and I 
always will. And... I think maybe you're right. Maybe it's 
time to focus on the big picture, change our priorities 
around. Doesn't mean we have to give up fighting the 
good fight."

"I trust you, too, Scully. You're my touchstone, and 
don't you forget it." They gazed upon one another for a 
moment, with complete and utter love shining on their 
tired faces. Mulder glanced down at his watch. He 
grimaced. "Jeez, it's nearly ten o'clock. Hey, why don't 
we save all the major clean up for tomorrow? Let's get 
some shut eye before the rug rat wakes up for his next 
feeding, how's that sound?"

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, then yawned, 
only reiterating the need to hit the sheets in a timely 
manner. She took the baby from him and headed back to 
the bedroom, while Mulder hastily shoved all the pizza 
leftovers into the fridge. He put some dishes in the sink, 
then left the rest for morning.

When he entered their darkened bedroom a few 
minutes later, he found William sleeping placidly in his 
bassinet and Scully lying in their bed, looking up at him 
with a smile. "Room for one more," she invited, patting 
the space beside her.

Stripping down to his boxers, Mulder was in that 
space, which was invading her own- she didn't mind- in 
the blink of an eye. He wrapped his arms protectively 
around his partner, holding her close against him. He 
sighed in contentment. This was truly the life!

"I love you, Scully," he whispered into her hair. 
"You're the best thing that's every happened to me, I 
mean it. I hope you know that I cherish you and every 
moment we've ever spent together... and even the 
moments apart, because I still spent that time loving you." 
He kissed the top of her head.

He could hear her sniffling, could feel her wiping 
her nose against his bare shoulder. "God, Mulder, I... you 
just... you know I'm not nearly so eloquent, darling, but I 
do feel the same way about you. I hope you know that."

"I do, Scully, I do." He pressed his lips to hers. 
"You really find me eloquent?" he asked in surprise.

"You have a beautiful way with words, Mulder. 
I've always loved that about you."

"Scully...?"

"Mmm?" she murmured sleepily.

"I bet I could get you off with just one of my 
fingers. I'll even let you pick which one!"

"So eloquent," she chuckled softly, tiredly, with 
just a hint of sarcasm. "And with the finesse of a jack 
hammer. Jesus, Mulder, really!"

They laughed together for a moment, until Scully 
was unable to stifle a yawn that lasted nearly a minute.

"You're exhausted," he realized, rubbing her arm 
in sympathy. "I'm sorry to keep you up. I guess I'm just... 
excited! You know, for a lot of things. I can't believe I get 
to sleep beside you, but we can't... God, I want to," he 
sighed.

"I know, Mulder, I'm excited, too, and equally 
frustrated. But at least give me a day or two to recuperate 
before we start testing the ways we can ride the 

Scullycoaster without the interlocking of our... connecting 
parts. I'm just a little worn out. Giving birth will do that 
to a girl."

He giggled- yes, giggled- over her response, which 
was as clever as she was going to get in her current state 
of exhaustion. "Yeah, you're right. I know. Scullyland 
needs a six-week overhaul, but I'm going to be the first- 
and only- one in line when she re-opens next season."

"My God," she snickered, getting closer to 
surrendering to sleep by the second, "you can turn just 
about anything into an innuendo, can't you?"

"What can I say? I'm a talented guy."

"Well, bring those talented lips my way," she 
ordered him, and he eagerly complied. They kissed 
tenderly for a few minutes, until he finally felt her mouth 
go slack beneath his and she began breathing 
rhythmically against his face. Watching her sleep for 
awhile, holding her closely to him, it didn't take Mulder 
long to follow her into a blissful slumber. 

That night, they dreamed the same dream. They 
both watched as William grew up before their eyes. They 
watched each other grow old together, remaining forever 
in love. Their bodies lay entwined as their entwined 
minds continued to dream, both of them feeling 
comforted and safe by the other's mere presence.

Neither of them had any clue that ten hours later, 
they would receive a phone call that would change 
everything. Their plans, their happiness, their lives, 
forever changed...



Scene Eighteen: "Tea for... Three?" 
[Rated PG-13]

January 2002
Georgetown, Dana Scully residence
9:58 p.m.

Dana Scully picked up her son and held him 
against her shoulder. She had just sent an email to her 
former FBI partner and forever life partner, Fox Mulder. 
The email she didn't even know would ever be read by 
him, spoke of her fears for him and their son. It spoke of 
the dangers they faced today and the hopes she dreamed 
of for tomorrow. Most of all, it spoke of her love for him.

Kissing William upon his downy head, Scully 
walked over the sofa, sat down with her child in her arms 
and rocked him back and forth. He was up way passed 
his bedtime, but she'd been through so much tonight, and 
it was as if he'd sensed it, because he'd awoke the minute 
she'd gotten home from a terrifying and heartbreaking 
evening. 

Her mother had left, after giving her daughter a 
tight hug. She hadn't had to ask what had happened. The 
fact that Scully had returned alone, without Mulder, told 
her enough. The woman had briefly thought about 
offering to stay, asking her baby girl if she wanted to "talk 
about it", but she knew Dana well enough to know that 
she didn't know her well enough at all. It broke her heart 
to realize that her youngest- and only living- daughter 
didn't share much of her life with her. Dana had always 
been extremely private, even as a child, but she had never 
been as secretive as she was now. Ever since she'd had 
her little William... no, ever since Mulder had left... yes, 
that was it. Scully had tried, vaguely, explaining to her 
mother that Mulder had gone into hiding for the safety of 
their son, for his own safety. None of it had made sense to 
Maggie, but then, as with most things concerning her 
daughter's mysterious life, it rarely did.

William had smiled at his mother for awhile as if 
knowing she was upset and trying to cheer her, and she 
smiled back, marveling at his baby features, which looked 
more and more like his father's every day. It was both a 
consolation and a curse. No, she would amend, it truly 
was a blessing. Scully was reminded of Mulder every day 
by looking at their son. And it wasn't only his features, 
but even some of the mannerisms the child had already 
started picking up reminded her of her missing lover. The 
way he moved his mouth, when he yawned, or gnawed 
on his pureed baby food. His intense gaze, when he was 
concentrating on something, it reminded her of Mulder 
when they used to puzzle over baffling X-File cases. Even 
the look on the boy's face as he slept... she knew that look 
to be his father's as well. And before she knew it, the baby 
was asleep, exhausted over the task of reassuring his 
worried mother.

Scully smiled through a few tears, looking down at 
her precious child, as he assumed a certain position for 
sleeping, so much like his father, and then started to 
drool, which Mulder would have claimed was so much 
like her. She would have denied such an accusation of 
course, although deep down, she knew it to be true. Ever 
since she'd been a teenager and got stuck wearing braces 
for three years, she tended to drool in her sleep. How 
many mornings had she awoken to a wet pillow over the 
years? And once she and Mulder started sleeping 
together, she'd often wake up, her head upon his 
shoulder, his shoulder covered in her drool and her hair 
wet and matted and stuck to her face, while he gazed 
down at her with pure amusement and affection in his 
eyes...

Thinking of Mulder in bed with her reminded her 
of what the super soldier shadow man had told her. How 
he had watched her, watched them, over the years, even 
during their most private, intimate moments. This man- 
no, not a man, a... a...- this being had basically let on that 
he knew her clothing size, knew her heart rate, her 
childhood fear of clowns... how could he know that? 

She gasped as she recalled a late night conversation 
with Mulder once. They had been finishing up paper 
work on their latest assignment, and had ordered some 
take-out and chatted while they wrote up their report 
together. After the report had been finished, Mulder 
didn't seem ready to leave, and Scully didn't seem ready 
to let him leave, so he stayed and they flipped through the 
cable channels until they came upon a repeat viewing of 
an old TV-movie, based on Stephen King's book, It. She 
remembered cringing over Tim Curry's Pennywise 
character and Mulder taking a keen interest in her 
reaction. 

Two hours later, he'd finally gotten her to admit 
that she'd had a fear of clowns as a child, after a trip to 
the circus when she was three and a clown had squirt her 
in the face with one of those fake flowers, then ran around 
like a maniac, and of course, he was wearing strange 
clothing and garish make-up and to a three-year-old, it 
was all rather frightening... After she'd admitted her tale, 
realizing how silly it all sounded now, as an adult, she 
had turned to her partner, expecting to find him laughing 
his ass off at her, or, at the very least, offering up some 
lame joke or smart alec remark. Instead, he had gazed at 
her with sympathy and tenderness, wrapped his arms 
around her, and snuggled with her on the couch for the 
duration of the movie, giving her little kisses upon her 
cheek or brow whenever Tim Curry's character showed 
up, until they both fell asleep. Then she remembered 
them waking up in the morning with kinks in their necks 
and running around frantically, trying to get ready for 
work, already a half-hour late. That had been about a year 
before they'd become lovers...

Scully gasped again, realizing with perfect clarity, 
as if she had not fully comprehended before, that every 
time she and Mulder had made love at her apartment- 
and possibly while they were at his, as well- they were 
being watched, observed. Had the shadow man been 
clinical about it all? Detached, just taking it in without any 
real interest, as a security guard might watch over on a 
security camera? Or had he been rude and hateful, 
making nasty remarks about their bodies, how they 
looked naked or the kinds of sexual activity they had 
indulged in? Or perhaps, he had been something of a 
voyeur about it, getting turned on as he watched them 
pleasure each other, enjoying the "peep show" as he 
touched himself... NO! No, she wouldn't think about 
that. She couldn't. No matter what this horrible creature 
had seen, she would not let the idea of him observing she 
and Mulder's most private, tender moments taint those 
sacred memories. Regardless of whether they'd been 
completely alone, or watched by this shadow man, or 
even the nosy neighbors across the street, what she and 
Mulder had was beautiful. She wouldn't have changed it, 
wouldn't ever want to forget all the times she had lain in 
her partner's arms, spent, sleepy and satisfied... holding 
each other close, touching each other, loving each other...

Scully started to cry. Rather than wake her son by 
the sound or the feel of her tears, she quickly and quietly 
got him into his crib, so she wouldn't disturb him, then 
hurried back into the living room. She even thought about 
sleeping on the sofa tonight. Usually, she thought of her 
bed as a refuge from the day, recalling the memories of 
the times she and Mulder had spent in it as a nice way to 
fall asleep. But tonight, the fact that she had come so close 
to getting him back... She had even put clean sheets on 
the bed in anticipation of his return, with the wicked 
knowledge that they would have dirtied them up tonight, 
upon their arrival home. She didn't think she could sleep 
in that bed alone now, not after expecting a night of 
romance and renewal with her beloved.

God-dammit! So close, she screamed in her head, 
venting her frustration silently, so as not to wake her son 
sleeping in the next room. I almost had him back! Almost... 
he was on that train, he was there, and I was standing on the 
platform. I wish I could have seen him. I wonder... did he see 
me waiting for him? Did he see my face? Did he know how 
much I needed to see his? So close...

Her tears were coming down harder now, louder, 
knowing she would be unable to stop. She was so sad, but 
also angry as hell! She wanted to throw and break 
something, take her frustration out on something, but she 
knew she couldn't, lest she disturb William. Even though 
he was just an infant, she could tell how perceptive he 
was. He knew when she was scared, or angry, or sad. 
How he knew, she couldn't say, but she could tell he 
knew by the way he looked at her. His eyes were still 
blue, but in the depths of them, she saw an old soul, like 
Mulder... her soul mate. And now, thanks to this shitty 
situation in this fucked-up world, her soul mate was 
nowhere to be seen!

^^^

Somewhere outside, across the street, hiding in the 
shadows, a silent form watched the sad, angry woman crying in 
her apartment. She could be seen through the sheer curtains she 
had never bothered to change. She had mini blinds, but hadn't 
closed them. She had been warned by so many of her friends, by 
her lover, to keep them closed, but she loved the sunlight, she'd 
said. Still, now, so late in the evening, so consumed by her 
turmoil, she had forgotten to close them. The shadowy figure 
clucked his tongue at her, but was grateful, nonetheless. 

It meant, he could observe her freely, as he peered at her 
from his hiding place, a pair of high-powered binoculars held 
deftly in his hands and perched over the bridge of his nose. He 
had been watching almost since she had returned home, just 
after her mother had left, in fact. 

He'd been observing her writing an email to her missing 
partner. Because of the way the computer had been facing, he 
was unable to see what she had written, but it didn't matter. He 
would find out soon enough. He had watched her as she 
interacted with her son, watched as the two of them had sat on 
the sofa, regarding each other with love and wonder and awe. 
Quite a touching scene, if one had to be honest.

Watching as she unwittingly lulled her son to sleep, the 
shadowy figure observed as she left the living room for a 
moment, returning without the baby, and wisely surmising that 
she had put the infant in his crib for bed. He had seen her 
staring off into space, and had wondered what she'd been 
thinking about. He could tell she was reminiscing, could tell she 
was upset. He watched her cry, his hand unconsciously 
reaching out into space in front of him, as if he were close 
enough to wipe away her tears. Looking through the binoculars, 
he almost felt as if he were.

Next thing he knew, the beautiful, but teary-eyed red-
head had leapt up from the couch, standing straight as a reed, 
with an alert look of acknowledgment and he panicked briefly, 
contemplating over whether she could detect his presence. But a 
second later, he watched as she ventured over to her front door, 
and he realized that someone had knocked. He wondered who 
would be so bold to come over at this hour, wondered what this 
person would have to say...

^^^

Scully wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself, 
and slowly traipsed over to her front door. She was 
dreading this, never knowing what to expect anymore, 
always afraid that it would only be more bad news, 
another crisis, another tragedy, more heartbreak...

She peered through the peephole and then opened 
the door. "Monica?" she said in surprise. She stepped 
aside, allowing her late night visitor access into her home. 
"What- what brings you here?" She bit her bottom lip, 
trying to be strong, trying to keep her tears at bay, and 
hoping that nothing else was wrong tonight. She knew 
she would not be able to handle anything else at this 
point.

"Hey, Dana," Reyes replied with a friendly and 
apologetic smile. She shrugged as she brushed past her 
reluctant hostess. "I was just in the neighborhood and..." 
She paused, watching as the smaller woman gave her this 
look she was beginning to know very well, as a perfectly 
manicured eyebrow arched high over a lovely blue eye. 
She tried not to smile, realizing that it reminded her a 
little too much of Mr. Spock from Star Trek. Somehow, she 
didn't think Scully would appreciate the comparison. 
"Uh, you're really not buying that, are you?" she said 
sheepishly.

"Well, considering you live across town, and the 
late hour, no, Monica, I'm really not. So, what's up?"

"Um, I guess I just wanted to come over and see 
how you're doing, make sure you're all right," the tall 
brunette admitted.

Scully warmed at her thoughtfulness. "I'm fine," 
she had started to say, but stopped herself just in time. 
She had used those words to mask her true feelings for so 
long now, she was beginning to hate hearing herself say 
them almost as much as Mulder always had. Besides, 
Monica was her friend, someone she trusted. She 
deserved honesty. "I... I guess I'm doing as well as can be 
expected," she reiterated. "It's been a long, draining 
evening..."

Monica nodded in sympathy and the two women 
stood in front of the closed door for a moment, in 
awkward silence. This upset Scully. She was so unused to 
having friends over- with the exception of Mulder- that 
she didn't even seem to know how to act around people 
anymore, outside of a professional environment. Thinking 
back to her mother's own etiquette, her eyes lit up with 
inspiration. "Please have a seat. I was thinking of making 
myself some herbal tea before bed. Care for some?"

"Herbal tea would be great, thanks," Monica 
replied brightly, sitting down on the sofa, as she'd been 
offered, then watched as Scully tiredly sauntered over to 
the kitchen area. 

While Scully was busy making their tea, Monica 
sat back on the couch and heard a noise, like crinkling 
paper. She sat up, and reached back to find a piece of 
paper half stuck between the couch cushions under her 
bottom. She opened it up, tried smoothing it flat, 
wondering if it had fallen out of Scully's pocket. She'd 
seen what she believed to be this same worn piece of 
paper in Scully's possession quite a lot the last couple of 
days. It had obviously been important, but until now, 
she'd had no idea what was on it, or what it meant to the 
pretty redhead who kept it with her like her life depended 
on it.

Feeling guilty, not really wanting to, but unable to 
stop herself, Monica checked it out. She knew it would be 
an invasion of her friend's privacy, but dammit, her 
curiosity got the best of her. Setting it upon the coffee 
table in front of her while Scully's back was turned in the 
kitchen, she leaned over to look at it without touching it 
further. Monica saw that it was a print out from Dana's 
email account... an email from Mulder. She saw that it 
was short and to the point, but it was poignant, and sad, 
and she could see enough of the tear stained marks to 
know that it meant the world to the woman currently 
making a racket in the kitchen. After reading it quickly, 
Monica had to wipe a few of her own tears away. Just in 
this short note, she could tell these two people loved each 
other, meant the world to each other... and, they were 
suffering so much without each other. She hated seeing 
Dana- or Mulder, for that matter- hurting this way, 
forcing this self-imposed separation on themselves. She 
didn't know Mulder well at all, or his ability to handle 
being away from Scully, but if his email was any 
indication, it looked like his resolve to stay away was 
wearing thin. And of course, she knew that not having 
Mulder around was certainly breaking Scully's heart.

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, 
Reyes sat back against the couch, her head hanging low in 
sadness. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply for a 
moment, willing herself to release this negative vibe, but 
she couldn't shake the feeling. She felt terrible about it. 
Here, she had come over to cheer Scully up, and now she 
was ready to wallow beside her in misery instead. 

^^^

From his secret perch, the shadowy figure kept his 
binoculars trained on the living room window. He observed the 
tall, pretty brunette- Agent Monica Reyes- read Scully's 
private email. He shook his head at the woman's audacity and 
insatiable curiosity, although he knew if he'd been in a similar 
position, he would have done the same. He also got the feeling 
the woman was only there to help. And as for the email, he 
knew every word of it by heart.

He watched the petite redhead return to the living room, 
carrying a small tray with two, delicate tea cups upon it...

^^^

Scully handed one of the cups to her friend, then 
picked up the other, setting the tray on the coffee table. 
She noticed her printed out email displayed there. She 
instinctively reached for her pocket, noticed that her 
cherished note was not in there. She retrieved the email, 
and folded it carefully up before returning it to her 
pocket, pushing it down further this time.

Monica tried to pretend she wasn't paying 
attention to anything Dana was doing. Instead, she 
concentrated on blowing on her still too hot tea, letting it 
warm her fingers. She finally took a sip. "Mmm, thanks, 
Dana, this is good."

"You're welcome," Scully said, looking at her 
friend and knowing that the woman was doing her 
damndest to not draw any attention to the email in her 
pocket. It was something she knew Mulder would have 
done and it made her smile.

"So, uh, is William asleep?"

"Yes, of course. Thankfully so far, he hasn't picked 
up his father's insomnia," Scully joked.

Monica chuckled nervously. "And he's doing well? 
No colds? No teething? No... diarrhea...?" She rolled her 
eyes at her own choice of query. Why did that pop into 
her head? She was such a dork!

This time Scully laughed a little. "Uh, no. Not even 
a bit of a runny nose, he's still toothless and... thanks for 
asking, but his butt isn't runny either."

"Well, that's good to know... I guess... I mean, I'm 
glad!" Monica stammered, making Scully's little eyebrow 
rise up again.

I swear, there's got to be some sort of relation between 
Mulder and Monica... Scully pondered. I can't think of 
another soul in the world that would randomly ask me if my son 
has diarrhea...

The two women sat in companionable silence for a 
moment, sipping their hot tea, one of them trying to hide 
her amusement, the other trying to hide her guilt. Still, 
they both were enjoying the quiet in the apartment, as 
well as the presence of the other.

^^^

The shadow also watched the two women sitting 
together, with great interest. They were from such different 
backgrounds with different outlooks; they may as well have been 
from different worlds. He was frankly curious to see how these 
two interacted with one another, and the nature of their 
friendship. It was an interesting study for him...

^^^

After a few minutes, the silence began to get a little 
unnerving to Scully, so she decided to break it, as well as 
the ice. She reached for the piece of paper folded up in her 
pocket, taking it out, unfolding it and showing it to her 
companion, figuring this was as good of way as any to 
start. "Did you happen to see this, Monica?" she asked.

"Uh... well, when I sat down on the couch, I felt 
something under me, and it was there, tucked between 
the cushions. I didn't know what it was, so I just sort of... 
looked at it... but I didn't mean to invade your privacy or 
anything, Dana. I'm really sorry." She bowed her head, 
looking truly ashamed of her actions.

Scully chuckled softly. "It's all right, Monica. No 
harm done. It must have fallen from my pocket and if you 
hadn't found it, then it probably would have got eaten up 
by the couch."

"Sorry," Monica said again. She scooted a little 
closer to her friend on the sofa and looked down at the 
paper in question. "Sounds like he really misses you."

"Yeah," Scully sighed, her chin beginning to 
quiver. "I miss him, too."

Intuitive that she was to others, even someone as 
enigmatic as Agent Scully, Monica counted to three in her 
head, just somehow knowing that the small redhead was 
going to cry. One... two... three...

Reyes looked for a box of tissues, as Scully started 
to tear up, and spied one on an end table. She snagged a 
few tissues out of the box, before scooting closer to her 
friend again, handing her one of them and wrapping a 
sisterly arm around the woman's shoulder. "Oh, Dana, 
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, you didn't upset me," Scully assured her 
through tears, "just this stupid situation. Honest, I was 
even crying before you got here. I'm just... well, I was so 
close to seeing him again tonight. I miss him so much, it's 
killing me inside. I hate not knowing where he is, or if 
he's okay. This is just too damn hard for me. I didn't 
realize it would be this hard..."

"I really wish you would have gotten him back 
tonight," Monica sympathized. "I hate how this all turned 
out." She looked near tears herself.

"Oh, no, don't you start, too, or I'll never be able to 
stop," Scully warned her friend gently. They both stared 
at each other, sniffling shamelessly, before enveloping 
into an embrace, Scully resting her head on the taller 
woman's shoulder. Reyes rubbed Scully soothingly on the 
back, just as Dana remembered her older sister doing for 
her on numerous occasions when she had been going 
through a crisis. The memory of her sister warmed her 
heart, as did this friend who reminded her so much of 
Melissa... as well as Mulder. 

"I don't even know if I'll ever see him again, 
Monica," Scully murmured into Reyes' shoulder. She 
hiccoughed back another fit of sobs, fighting valiantly 
against turning into a blubbering mess.

"You will, Dana," Monica promised without 
hesitation, making Scully feel as though the woman 
meant it and wasn't just trying to give her meaningless 
words of comfort. "I can feel it, you know."

Scully sat up straight, looked searchingly into 
Monica's brown eyes. "Do you really feel sure about 
that?" she asked, needing the confirmation, as she tightly 
gripped the woman by the arms.  Not so long ago, she 
would have dismissed Monica Reyes' intuitive abilities, 
just as she had easily dismissed her sister's new age 
attitude, or Mulder's paranormal theories. But not 
anymore, she was more open-minded now.

"Yes, I do," Reyes vowed, taking a hold of Scully's 
small hands, removing them from their viselike grip on 
her forearms and setting them gently to rest in the 
woman's lap. She rubbed at each of her arms 
unconsciously, just knowing that she would probably be 
bruised by tomorrow. Damn, she's little, but she's got a grip 
like a steel claw!

Dana smiled apologetically, realizing that she'd 
squeezed too hard on her friend's arms. Monica returned 
the smile, as if to say she understood, then handed her 
another tissue, so that Scully could wipe her eyes and 
nose. Dana did just that, then blew her nose into the tissue 
and absently tried to hand it back to Monica.

"Eww! I don't want it back!" Reyes blurted, 
sounding very girly and looking thoroughly grossed out.

Scully realized what she'd just nearly done. She 
stared at Monica in apologetic shocked silence for a 
moment. Then, they both suddenly erupted into laughter.

^^^

The shadow man smiled. Though he could not hear what 
was being said, he'd gotten the basic gist of the conversation, 
especially when Scully had tried to give Reyes the used tissue... 
and the look on Reyes' face, just after the fact. It was priceless! 
Scully could be so funny, especially when she wasn't intending 
to. He began to laugh right along with his unknowing 
subjects...

^^^

"Monica?" Scully asked, finally recovering from 
their outburst and forcing herself to calm down.

"Yeah?" Reyes laughed, having a harder time 
controlling her own.

Ever since her best friend, Ellen, had moved across 
the country, and then her sister, Melissa, had died, Scully 
had been bereft of any steady, female companionship. In 
fact, she knew she was seriously lacking in any 
meaningful friendships with other women. Well, she had 
her mother, of course, but that was different because 
Maggie was, after all, still her mom. Her whole life- her 
whole world, really- had been all about Mulder and the 
X-Files, ever since that fateful day they met. It had been a 
subtle transformation, but it had happened rather quickly 
and taken her by surprise, and before she knew it, the 
same man who filled the partner role at the FBI had also 
assumed her best friend slot. Not that she regretted it. She 
had gotten so much out of her friendship- and later, her 
romantic relationship- with Mulder, she had always been 
satisfied with that, even if, once in awhile, she'd get a 
telephone call from Ellen and realize that she did rather 
miss the whole 'female bonding experience'. 

There were the rituals of afternoon lunches, 
evening movies, going out for the occasional drink, or just 
sitting together on a couch, talking about anything and 
everything. Then, of course, there was the obligatory- but 
always fun- joking or bitching, depending on one's mood, 
about the opposite sex, something she had never really 
done with Mulder, because, as the most important man in 
her life, he'd have been the one she would have wanted to 
joke or bitch about. But she did miss that, just that 
opportunity to enjoy being a woman enjoying the 
company of another woman.

She knew that nothing could ever compare or 
replace what she had with Mulder- what she hoped to 
have with him again sometime in the near future- but, just 
as Mulder sometimes needed to get away from her and 
hang out with the Gunmen, or one of his gym buddies, to 
grunt over video games, technology, sports, or whatever 
the hell else he and his friends liked to jaw about, Scully 
wanted the chance to do the female equivalent of 
grunting over things she enjoyed! Watching Monica, who 
was demurely sipping her tea and subtly studying the 
pictures of she, Mulder and William hanging on the far 
wall, Scully decided to recall her mother's advice about 
making friends: "Dana, sometimes, you have to make the 
first effort in order to connect. Even if you feel awkward, 
honey, just reach out to someone. Chances are, they will 
reach right back."

With a surge of determination, Scully blew out a 
breath, again catching Monica's attention. "Would you 
like to watch a movie or maybe play some cards or 
something, I mean, since you're here?" she asked 
awkwardly and hopefully, praying she didn't sound as 
junior high to Monica as she did to herself.

Reyes grinned from ear to ear. She herself had been 
wanting to broach this same subject with Dana, because 
she knew they had a lot in common, regarding their 
demanding jobs, they had shared some very memorable 
experiences together, and frankly, she really liked the 
woman. She thought Dana to be a very kind and caring 
person, and Reyes had the feeling she could possibly be a 
lot of fun, if she ever got the opportunity to cut loose and 
let her hair down, so to speak. But Monica had remained 
hesitant about approaching Scully to do something 
socially with her. The woman had been through so much 
tragedy and heartache over the years that she was 
guarded with her feelings and did not trust others easily. 
Monica knew- and felt honored- that she was one of a 
handful of people that Scully extended that hard-earned 
trust to... but she had never been sure if the woman had 
truly liked her enough to consider her a friend... until 
now.

"I'd love to, Dana," Monica told her and both 
women grinned at each other, resembling two teenage 
girls who'd forced themselves to reach out to someone, 
and been pleased at finding a friend. "I had been wanting 
to see you socially since I met you," Reyes confessed, 
making Scully's grin turn shy. "I don't have any other 
girlfriends right now, really, especially since I'm still new 
to the area. And of course, the FBI is such a 'boys' 
club'..."

"Don't I know it," Scully agreed empathetically, 
glad to see they had found something to agree on and talk 
about so quickly. "But I have been seeing a greater influx 
of female cadets in my classes this semester."

Monica nodded approvingly, setting her tea on the 
tray still on the coffee table and turning towards Scully. 
"That's a hopeful sign. Women make great FBI agents."

After Scully rattled on about some statistics 
regarding the virtues of women special agents, the two of 
them agreed to play some card games, in lieu of watching 
a movie, so they could visit while they played. They 
opted for games like Crazy Eights, War and Double 
Solitaire.

They began their visit in earnest with a "safe" 
subject, talking about work, not the X-Files specifically, 
but about the FBI as a whole, how challenging it could be 
for a woman to work in a field dominated by the opposite 
gender. Monica confessed that back at the New Orleans 
field office, she had unwittingly garnered the nicknames 
Agent Evil and Sister Satan on account of all the cases she 
had investigated regarding cults and devil worshipping. 
Scully then confided how she had been known as the Ice 
Queen and later, Mrs. Spooky. Monica had then kindly told 
her that there wasn't anything icy about her, then joked 
that she had probably enjoyed being called Mrs. Spooky, to 
which Scully finally relented and admitted that she... 
hadn't minded it.

From the springboard of their professional lives, 
they dove into family matters. Scully told of her parents, 
how her dad had been in the Navy, and her mom was 
often left alone for months at a time, raising four, unruly 
Navy brats. She talked about her nasty big brother, Bill, Jr. 
and her caring younger brother, Charlie. And she talked 
about Melissa more candidly, sharing a few stories of her 
big sister's crazy antics, and telling Monica, again, how 
she reminded her of Missy, to which Monica had smiled 
sweetly at her and told her how honored she felt by the 
compliment.

Scully was surprised to learn of Monica's past, 
which was a lot more richly detailed in strange 
happenings than she would have guessed. She had 
known that Reyes was adopted- it was in her personnel 
file- but Monica went into details that she didn't tell too 
many people. She had been adopted by Luis and Maria 
Reyes, a wealthy, Mexican couple, who already had six 
sons and one daughter of their own, but wanted to adopt 
a child, another little girl, for their other daughter to play 
with. Monica said she'd grown up partially in Mexico 
City, partly in California, due to her family's fortunate 
financial status. This had surprised Scully a little since she 
couldn't even detect the slightest trace of a Mexican 
accent in Monica's voice. She was also surprised to learn 
that Monica had, indeed, searched for her birth parents. 
She'd found out that her mother had been a seventeen-
year-old Mexican teenager and her father had been a 
twenty-year-old U.S. Army soldier, who died in Vietnam. 
He had not even been contacted in time to learn of his 
girlfriend's pregnancy and his daughter's subsequent 
birth. Monica had never contacted her birth mother. 
Scully didn't ask, but she looked at her friend with 
concern and curiosity, and Reyes admitted that she was a 
little... afraid to. She'd built up an image of her mother in 
her mind, and she was so afraid that the real woman 
might not be anything like that. For now, she'd said, she 
was content to just know who she was and where she 
lived.

Their talk included William for a long time, too, 
and babies in general. Though Reyes had no children of 
her own, she had a lot of nieces and nephews-, which was 
natural, since she had seven older siblings- and had done 
her fair share of babysitting. She could relate easily to 
early morning feedings, being puked or peed on, 
changing smelly diapers, all the crazy stuff that taking 
care of kids entailed. She also loved talking about the 
good stuff, like sporting events, school plays, first words, 
a first tooth, baby steps, and just sitting in a rocking chair 
and gently soothing a fussy child to sleep.

As the night went on, and being that these were 
two women chatting and enjoying each other's company, 
of course, the conversation eventually veered towards... 
men. Scully felt terrible for wondering, but she hoped 
Monica would share some details of her relationship with 
Agent Doggett. They seemed to have gotten close rather 
quickly since Reyes had been assigned to the X-Files 
department. Scully realized that she and Mulder had 
formed a similar bond, and in a short amount of time, 
when she had been assigned as his partner all those years 
ago, but it seemed different somehow. Dana certainly 
didn't begrudge either of her X-Files colleagues any 
happiness with each other, especially in light of the fact 
that she had found the love of her life, her perfect other, in 
the very same basement. In the crazy world they lived in, 
happiness and security could be so fleeting. Sometimes 
finding love and support came from the most unlikely 
sources, but that didn't mean you ignored or denied it. 
Otherwise, it might never come again.

She had to admit though, even to herself, that 
Monica and John seemed an unlikely pair, not just as 
partners, but as potential lovers. When she'd first 
observed the two new X-Files representatives together as 
partners, Scully pondered over how their age difference 
would factor in. Would it help or hinder their dynamic? 
She would later come to find out their age difference was 
less expansive than she initially surmised. 

Doggett was actually about five years younger than 
Scully would have guessed. She realized though, that he 
was a straight-laced, somewhat uptight fellow- yeah, 
Dana, like you should talk, she chided herself- who had 
lived through an unspeakable tragedy, the loss of his son. 
He'd also worked in three adrenaline-rushing, high-risk 
careers, as a marine, then a police officer in New York, 
and finally an FBI agent. That alone could age a person. 

Monica, on the other hand... she was actually a 
few years older than Scully had first thought, being only 
two years younger than she. Reyes had been with the 
Bureau since 1990, tackling cases involving satanic cults 
and ritualistic crimes, without much success. But she was 
such a free spirit, a very well balanced and happy person. 
The woman had helped deliver Scully's baby in the midst 
of danger and uncertainty, remaining calm and in control, 
protecting both she and William. She had even belted out 
some whale songs at her, for crying out loud, which had to 
be a pretty gutsy move to even mention the word whale, 
while talking to a pregnant woman in her ninth month, 
who was hormonal, ready to pop, and packing heat! But 
nothing seemed to unnerve Monica...

Doggett and Reyes seemed so different, which was 
true of she and Mulder, when Scully thought about it. 
Somehow though, her differences to Mulder seemed less 
defined, less important. Of course, she realized she might 
have been just the tiniest bit biased on the subject...

Still, if she were to picture either of her X-Files 
colleagues in a relationship with anyone, she pictured 
Doggett with a more... traditional woman, maybe a 
schoolteacher or a librarian, even a homemaker, someone 
tidy and efficient. Monica, on the other hand, looked like 
someone who would be attracted to a man that was hell 
on wheels, rebellious, a big, hunky guy who wore leather 
and rode a Harley. Or perhaps, she was more suited to 
someone a bit more sensitive, like a misunderstood poet 
who quoted Frost and Browning and who stayed up late 
doing wacky performance art, like standing on ladders for 
hours on end and setting things on fire...

"Dana, you in there?" Monica laughed, dealing 
them each a hand for another round of Crazy Eights. 

"Uh, just lost in thought," Scully said with a 
sheepish grin. "What were we talking about again?"

"Old boyfriends," Reyes reminded her, waggling 
her eyebrows. "You were telling me about Daniel 
Waterston, your old med school professor. So, he really 
followed you to D.C. and you didn't find out for years? 
That's kind of..."

"It's creepy," Scully admitted, "creepy as hell." She 
saw a light flicker in her friend's eyes, a question forming 
and longing to be voiced. Scully beat her to the punch. 
"And no, the magic was gone, before you even ask. I 
mean, I found him in a hospital, remember, on death's 
door. He looked... well, old and tired. I didn't remember 
him ever being that much older than I before."

"Age catches up to us all," Monica sighed. "I think 
I'm getting crow's feet, myself."

"You look lovely," Dana dismissed her fears, "but 
of course, Daniel was sick. Not just in body, but in spirit."

"Did he make it?" Reyes whispered quietly.

"No," Scully said, "he passed away not long after I 
saw him. I feel that I was meant to find him, and help him 
come to terms with what he'd done, how his behavior had 
torn his family apart much more than our brief fling... but 
I... wasn't meant to save him."

Monica nodded in understanding. "Can't save 
them all, hon." She patted Scully's back.

"Yeah, I know. It was still such a strange 
experience though. Not counting high school and college 
boyfriends, I've only had three relationships in my adult 
life. Both Jack Willis and Daniel... died." She paused, 
furrowing her brow and letting a tiny gasp escape her 
mouth. "Jesus, so did..."

"Hey," Monica interrupted her morbid thought, 
"the true love, the one that matters, you got him back. 
Remember that, Dana. It was a miracle. That means 
something, you know."

Scully nodded solemnly. Yes, Mulder had come 
back from the dead to be with her. It had truly been a 
miracle. Just as it had been a miracle that they had 
conceived William- and naturally, at that. But the thought 
that she had once put her beloved into the cold, hard 
earth... She forced herself out of that memory. She was 
having fun with her friend. Girl talk was something that 
she used to enjoy and had really missed. "Can we talk 
about something else?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," Monica agreed, and Scully caught the 
woman glancing over at the tissue box, on the lookout for 
any more tears. While it angered Scully to know that she 
must appear so fragile to everyone, it also reassured her 
to see someone besides Mulder or her mother that cared 
so much and who seemed to know her. "What would you 
like to talk about now?" Monica asked, winning her tenth 
consecutive hand of Crazy Eights.

"Dammit," Scully muttered, becoming as big a 
baby as she had often accused Mulder of being at losing 
so much. "That's it, we're switching back to War!"

"The only game you seem to be able to beat me at," 
Monica teased her good-naturedly, and Scully made a 
face at her. "So, what shall we talk about while you try to 
kick my ass at War, Dana?"

"Um, how about... current boyfriends?" Scully 
blurted in an embarrassed squeak. She started blushing, a 
little bit ashamed at wanting to pry, but unable to stop the 
urge. She was genuinely curious about Monica and 
Doggett.

At first, Scully didn't understand the concerned 
look on Reyes' face, until the woman asked her, "You're 
sure about this, Dana? I mean, I'd love to hear more about 
Mulder, whatever you'd like to share, but are you okay 
talking about him right now? I know it's been a tough 
day..."

To be perfectly honest, Scully hadn't even been 
thinking of discussing Mulder in regards to her 
suggestion. She had just been nosily hoping to get some 
juicy details about Monica and John's partnership. Leave it 
to Reyes to turn the tables on her. That was definitely 
something Missy would have done... But she took a 
moment to consider the proposition. Could she handle 
talking about her absent lover without turning morose or 
depressed or sobbing like a baby? She thought she could. 
She was such a strong person, Mulder had told her on 
numerous occasions. The strongest person he ever knew. 
After all, it had to be a strong woman to take on the role of 
Fox Mulder's touchstone and his one in five billion. 
Mulder had not been an easy man to know, or to 
understand, in spite of how endearing he could be. He 
was an easy man to love... but from afar; the reality of his 
pain and anguish, years of neglect and abuse or 
abandonment from nearly every other person he'd ever 
loved or cared about had taken its toll on him- on his 
mind, his heart, his soul. Only someone as intelligent as 
he, less sensitive and twice as strong could handle his 
sadness, his outbursts, his insanity, his intensity, and his 
love, strange but passionate though it was. That one 
person, Scully had come to realize over the years, was she 
and she alone. So, could she indulge in a friendly 
conversation talking about the man she loved, the man 
she'd shared a life with, had a child with and was 
faithfully waiting for, not knowing when or if he might 
return? Yeah, she could.

"Yes," she replied, smiling with love shining 
plainly in her blue eyes, "I'm good. I want to talk about 
him. I... I'd love to, actually."

Monica seemed confident that her friend would 
not fall apart and start crying a river, and she honestly did 
seem to have a real need to speak about the man in her 
life, so she nodded encouragingly at her. "Great, Dana. 
So, tell me..."

"Um..." Scully stammered, then chuckled in 
embarrassment. "I, uh, I'm not sure where to start." 

Discussing her relationship with Mulder was not 
something she had ever really done. Even the 
conversations regarding their relationship just between 
the two of them had not been a regular occurrence. Their 
relationship, their love, had a life of its own, had always 
been there in one form or another. Besides discussing the 
"rules" about not having sex at the office, or wondering 
who- if anyone- they should tell about their romance, or 
the occasional declaration of love or revelation of a new 
term of endearment, neither of them had felt all that 
compelled to try and discuss or dissect that which was as 
real and as natural as breathing to them. 

Monica could see her friend struggling with this, 
even as much as she obviously wanted to talk. She sat 
back on the couch, and Scully mimicked her stance, and 
like that, their card game was forgotten. Reyes gave her 
an opening. "So, you two met when you were assigned to 
work on the X-Files, in... 1992, right?" she asked.

Scully nodded, truly appreciating Monica's easing 
her into the conversation. "Yeah," she replied, smiling at 
the recollection of their first meeting down in the 
cluttered basement office. "We were both so young 
then... and kind of... innocent in a way, I guess. I mean, 
neither of us were na?ve to the dangers of our world 
exactly, but back then we were young enough- maybe 
arrogant enough, too- that we thought we could take on 
those dangers, and remain unscathed. We were green, but 
we learned pretty quickly how to take the blows, how to 
pick ourselves- or sometimes, each other- up and move on 
to the next case."

"An innocent Dana Scully," Monica replied, 
smiling. "How old were you?"

"Twenty-eight, not exactly a child, or anything, but 
still young and fairly new to the Bureau," Scully 
admitted. "I mean, of course, we both had our own 
histories, our own baggage that we brought with us into 
that partnership, but... even early on, what we had... I... 
it was difficult sometimes, but I still cherish every 
moment."

Monica gazed upon Dana, watched as her eyes 
misted over with the dew of remembrance of a life since 
past. It was beautiful and heartbreaking all at once to 
witness. Scully and Mulder were a life long couple, of that 
Monica had no doubt. Somehow, some way, they would 
find each other again, be allowed to remain together, love 
each other. But their lives would never quite be the same. 
The simplicity of the old days would most likely haunt 
them often, giving them sometimes a sudden rush of joy, 
or perhaps a tear of pain, but it was all gone now. 
Nothing, besides their love for each other, would be the 
same for them. Their history together lived on only in 
their memories.

"Good memories," Reyes murmured, more so over 
her own reflection than anything Dana had said, but 
Scully responded in kind, anyway.

"Definitely," Scully replied dreamily.

"Tell me about the first time you met," Monica 
urged her, thinking that perhaps this was cathartic for 
her.

"He was acting like an ass," Scully admitted, 
grinning and surprising a giggle out of the unsuspecting 
Reyes. With the expression still clinging to Dana's 
features, she half expected to hear a meeting that rivaled 
the greatest romance novel. 

"Really?" the brunette asked in surprise.

Scully chuckled affectionately. "Yep, an ass! He 
knew I'd been assigned to him, I hadn't asked for it. He 
knew the men that had given me the job had expected 
written reports from me for every move he made. They 
wanted me to spy on him, debunk his theories, his work, 
to make a fool of him. I just went in there to do a job, to 
lend my scientific knowledge to his outlandish claims and 
inexplicable cases. I was there, ironically, for the same 
reason Mulder was; for the truth. He didn't see it that way 
though, not at first. He did his best to turn me off, scare 
me away. When he wasn't acting like a smart ass, he was 
doing his spooky routine, or challenging me, trying to get 
me to quit, trying to make me feel like the fool and run off 
with my tail between my legs..."

"Guess that didn't work, huh?" Reyes snickered.

"Not even a little," Scully replied, her eyes 
sparkling. "I don't think he realized at first that I liked to 
be challenged, whether it was by his theories, his wit, the 
cases we covered, or just trying to get him to trust me, I 
just... really..."

"Got off on it," Monica surmised wisely.

"Yes. Uh, I mean, I... liked it... found it... 
stimulating... I," Scully paused, glancing over to see Reyes 
eyeing her with a knowing look. "Okay, I got off on it, 
happy?"

"As a clam!" the taller woman beamed. "So, he 
kind of made you work for his respect, eh? But you know, 
I bet he really respected you anyway, even if he kept it 
hidden."

Scully nodded. "Yes, he later admitted as such. Of 
course, he also later told me it was love at first sight, too, 
so how much of his flowery bull shit do I really believe?" 
She laughed.

"I'd believe it all, Dana. Just going by how I've 
seen Mulder react to you, or just by the way I'd see him 
look at you, I'd give him the benefit of the doubt."

"That's very sweet, thank you," the redhead 
responded, her expression turning sentimental.

"So..." Reyes began gently, "... was he fucking hot 
back then, too?"

"Monica!" Dana gasped, actually putting a hand 
over her heart and looking like a Victorian woman who'd 
just been scandalized. "He was my new partner, you 
know, and fraternizing with co-workers was frowned 
upon, even cause for reassignment or dismissal. Besides, 
like I said, he didn't trust me, treated me like a jerk, and 
acted like a putz!"

"Was. He. Hot?" Monica asked again.

"Yes!" Scully finally admitted, folding her arms, 
but still blushing furiously. "He was hot! Okay?"

"What was he wearing?" Monica inquired, her 
dark eyes dancing wickedly.

"Jesus, Monica, this is my significant other we're 
talking about," Scully tried to rise above it all.

"You started this, Dana," Reyes reminded her. 
"Come on. Guys brag about their women all the time. 
What's wrong with us getting a little bragging in 
ourselves once in awhile, huh?"

"Fine," Scully sighed, although she truly was 
enjoying this conversation, as well as the chance to 
verbalize to someone just how much of a... fox Mulder 
was- pun intended! "Well, I remember walking down to 
that basement office for the first time, right after being 
assigned to the X-Files. I wasn't required to report for 
work that day, but I just wanted to stop in and meet my 
new partner. I knocked on the door, and I heard him call 
out something about no one being down here but the 
FBI's most unwanted, or whatever. I went in and his back 
was turned. He was... sitting at his desk, going over some 
slides- God, him and his damn slides! 

"He was wearing one of his suits. He was thinner 
then, and his suits never seemed to fit him properly. 
Always hung off his lanky frame, but right away, I found 
that endearing about him. He had his jacket off, and the 
sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up on his arms, 
which were showing... he has... nice arms," Scully said 
tactfully, and Reyes winked at her. "I remember my gaze 
following down his arms, onto his elegant hands, long 
fingers..." She paused, momentarily recalling what those 
long fingers were capable of doing to her. Just the thought 
made her shiver.

"Go on," Monica urged, sounding as if she were a 
little hot under the collar as well.

"He wore his hair longer then," Scully continued, 
and she could see that young, lanky thirty-one year old 
Mulder so plainly in her mind. "There was always this 
obstinate lock of hair that fell down over his eye, or onto 
his forehead. He's got such silky hair... And then, I 
noticed that he was wearing his reading glasses, and... 
they just brought out his eyes so nicely, and made him 
look so... so... I... God, those glasses..." she sighed.

Scully suddenly became aware that she had 
stopped talking and was just remembering. She felt that 
familiar sensation of warmth generating in her womb, 
and traveling... downward. Oops! Shit! I know what that 
means... She dared to glance over at Monica and realized 
by the knowing smirk on her friend's face that her 
aroused state was no secret. "Um..." she stammered 
nervously.

"Damn, Dana," Monica joked, raising her 
eyebrows, "should I leave you alone for a few minutes?"

"Very funny," Scully retorted, now completely red 
in the face.

"So, was his ass as hot as it is now?" Monica asked 
in all innocence.

"Hey! That's Mulder you're coveting," Scully 
sniffed, unable to stop herself from going into cave 
woman mode, and for all of the teasing and scoffing she 
had done to Mulder for the times his own hackles would 
rise when someone would dare to look her way.

"Oh, come on, Dana," Reyes stated the obvious, 
looking slightly amused. "I'm not coveting him. Just 
admiring his backside. Besides, everyone looks at 
people's asses. They're cute! No harm in it."

"Yeah, guess not," Scully begrudgingly allowed.

"I mean, your ass is hot, too," Monica graciously 
complimented her.

Dana chuckled, blushing almost constantly now. 
"Uh, well, thank you, Monica. Yours is great, as well."

"Thanks!" Monica took the praise at face value.

^^^

The man in the shadows was watching the two ladies 
converse with great interest. He couldn't hear what they were 
saying, of course, but it was pretty obvious, even to him, that 
they were conversing about the opposite sex. He had noticed the 
arousal that briefly adorned Dana Scully's face, which in turn 
aroused him. He would have given up his right arm- or his left 
testicle- to be able to actually hear what they were saying...

^^^

"All right," Scully announced, trying to regain her 
composure and some modicum of control, and maybe 
take back the conversation to its original intent. "It's your 
turn to embarrass the hell out of yourself, Monica. What 
gives with you and John Doggett?"

Monica's expression turned to utter shock and 
horror. "Dana, what are you talking about? John and I are 
friends, partners, but we aren't..."

Scully's eyes grew wide and her face went beet red. 
Would there be an end to her humiliation this evening? 
"Oh... I- I just thought... I mean... I- I'm so sorry..."

Reyes then surprised the hell out of her by cracking 
up laughing. "Jesus, Dana, you're just too good to be true! 
You should see your face right now. God, it's hilarious!"

"You... you're such a... a..." Scully stammered, 
realizing she'd been duped and feeling a little perturbed 
by it. "Dammit, Monica, are you sleeping with John or 
not?"

This demand for knowledge only made Monica 
laugh harder. "God, you're so nosy!" she cackled, barely 
able to breathe.

She waited a few minutes, for Reyes' laughter to 
subside. And she waited a few minutes more before it 
finally did. "Sorry," Scully apologized for her latest 
outburst. "But, seriously, are you?"

Wiping some mirthful tears from her eyes, Monica 
finally sobered enough to answer. "Sadly, no. I mean, I'd 
like to, but so far he hasn't shown any inkling, which is a 
pity, because I love him so much."

"You do?" Scully asked. "Really?"

"I always have," Reyes replied, and Scully 
suddenly remembered that the two of them had known 
each other in the past; they had a history together. "Of 
course," Monica went on, looking a little wistful, "the 
way we met though... it was under the worst possible 
circumstances."

Scully recalled that Reyes had met Doggett when 
she'd been assigned to the case of his son's murder. That 
was a horrible way to meet someone, and a terrible way 
to meet someone that you fell in love with. "I'm sorry," 
she murmured, touching Monica's shoulder in empathy.

Reyes absently, but affectionately patted the 
woman's hand and continued. "John, he... God, it was 
such a horrible time. During the investigation, which of 
course, went nowhere, I got to know him very well. We'd 
talk every day, discuss the case. Once in awhile, he'd let 
his guard down and we'd even talk about the boring, 
mundane stuff, nothing special, just having a normal 
conversation, like regular people did every day. But even 
then, he was the most earnest man I'd ever met. He was 
so devastated, but he had such determination, such 
drive... he was so hopeful that we would at least bring 
Luke's killer to justice... but well, we never did find out 
anything concrete."

"I'm sure he was in torment," Scully murmured 
sadly, unable to even imagine such a predicament. Being 
a parent now, this story made her feel absolutely sick 
inside. That strong, parental need to protect... what if it 
failed? No, she just couldn't imagine...

"Yeah."

"Well, what about you?" Dana asked. "I mean, 
knowing that you loved him already, I'm sure it was hard 
on you, too, Monica."

"It was," the woman had to agree. "Plus, I had 
recently gotten out of a long term relationship with... 
well, with Brad Follmer."

Scully's eyebrow rose in astonishment. She knew 
Brad Follmer, had seen him up close, looking through his 
pretty-boy, white bread image, and into someone who 
seemed like a selfish, little weasel. She never would have 
guessed someone like Monica Reyes could have fallen for 
someone like him. What could she possibly have seen in 
him? "A.D. Follmer? I..."

"Yeah, I know," Monica nodded in agreement with 
the unspoken protest. "Looking back on it, I have to 
wonder... what the hell was I thinking? I don't know, 
honestly. Maybe someone was slipping LSD into my 
coffee or something every morning for six months..." 
Dana stared at her. Monica shrugged. "Hey, weirder 
things have happened."

Scully rolled her eyes. "So, moving along... you 
had just broken up with... Brad, and then you meet 
Doggett, and it was love at first sight?"

"Not exactly," Monica explained. "I mean, I hadn't 
just broken up with Brad. We'd been apart for at least a 
few months. And I was, actually, dating someone casually 
at the time I met John. It was... Jennifer Adams, an FBI 
accountant, if you can believe that! Who'd of thunk, right? 
Me, of all people, dating a damn bean counter!"

"Jennifer?" Scully repeated, certain she had heard 
wrong.

"Oh, do you know her?" Reyes asked. "She's at the 
New Orleans field office. I mean, I know, I didn't paint 
her in a flattering color, but she was actually very nice, 
pretty fun, too. She was a little on the weird side, but who 
am I to talk, right? Jen could really party, too, not that she 
was a heavy drinker... or... any...thing..."Monica noticed 
Scully's confused expression. "And I take it you didn't 
know that I'm bisexual, did you?"

"Um, no... no I didn't actually," Scully admitted, 
looking a little more stunned than she'd wanted to.
Monica bit her lip, unsure of what was about to 
transpire. Dana Scully was an intelligent woman, and she 
had to be at least somewhat open-minded to have lasted in 
the X-Files division for so long. But she was also raised a 
staunch Catholic, that religious background alone... plus, 
even some non-religious people had an irrational hatred 
for anyone different. Reyes knew this could go either 
way.

"Dana," she began softly, suddenly sounding 
timid, unsure of herself, "are you... I mean, is this... did 
you want me to leave?" she asked, averting her eyes.

"What? Oh, no!" Scully exclaimed, finally over the 
surprise of Monica's impromptu revelation. She took hold 
of her friend's hand and smiled. "No, I don't want you to 
go, and I'm sorry for my uncouth reaction. I beg you to 
forgive me for that. I guess I just wasn't expecting... You 
kind of surprised me, that's all. I, um, take it that this isn't 
common knowledge down at the Bureau?"

Monica shrugged, feeling relieved. "No, not that 
I'm aware of. But I mean, if someone asked me, I'd be 
truthful. It's not really a big deal at all."

"No, it isn't," Scully agreed, squeezing her friend's 
hand.

Reyes smiled and squeezed back. "So, anyway, 
back to John, he and I got fairly close during our time 
spent together, looking for the answers about his son's 
murder. I think I fell in love with him over the course of 
that time, just seeing his beautiful soul, tortured though it 
was, so open with me. I can't tell you the number of times 
he'd broken down, and I held him in my arms while he 
wept. I'd never... experienced that kind of trust and 
vulnerability with a man before. It... touched me. I felt 
needed and appreciated, even loved, although, I'm sure I 
could have misread some of those feelings, considering 
the tragic circumstances we'd found ourselves in. 

"And then, when we could never find anything, 
well, the case finally went cold, and we had less and less 
reason to see each other, or call. We kind of... drifted 
apart. I tried to keep in touch, but he was going through 
so much at home. He and his wife eventually divorced, 
which I've heard is a fairly common occurrence with 
couples who lose a child. 

"Later, he moved away, and I completely lost 
touch with him. I heard some time back that he'd joined 
the FBI, but I never contacted him. I was always afraid 
that I'd just remind him of a very bad time in his life, so I 
didn't want to upset him... And then, several months ago, 
he called me, seemingly out of the blue."

"What for?"

Monica smiled. "He wanted me to help you," she 
reminded Scully. "He called me to see if I could get some 
kind feel for Mulder's missing person's case. And, well, 
we all know how that went... thank God, it all turned out 
okay. But yeah, it was... years since I'd heard from him. I 
was frankly surprised to get the call."

"And then he invites you to join him on the X-
Files," Scully pointed out.

"Yes, he did," Monica nodded. "I guess maybe he 
remembered the rapport we had years ago, thought it 
might work again."

"Have you... ever told him how you feel?" Scully 
dared to ask, although she realized she was the last 
person who should be doling out relationship advice.

"No, not yet," Reyes told her. "I really don't think 
he's ready to hear something like that. Maybe he never 
will be, or... maybe he'll always see me as some caring, 
yet painful reminder of his past, of Luke's tragedy. Maybe 
he'd never be able to love someone that makes him think 
of such bad times. I just don't know. I mean, I try to 
remain hopeful, but I don't want to rush him, or worse, 
scare him away. So, basically, I just... wait..."

Scully hadn't realized till now, that she and Monica 
really did have more in common than one would have 
thought. They were both waiting for the man they loved, 
in different circumstances, of course, but still, the waiting 
was hell. Scully knew this to be true. "Monica," she 
sighed sympathetically, "I'm really sorry. I wish there 
was something I could do to help." She blew out a 
frustrated breath, then sucked down the last gulp of her 
lukewarm tea.

Reyes shrugged, looking a little forlorn. "Thanks, 
Dana, I appreciate it, but... there's really nothing to be 
done. I don't think there's anything you could do... unless 
you're looking to hook up now and then, Agent Scully." 
She gave the unsuspecting redhead a flirtatious wink, 
then reached out to squeeze her on the knee.

That unsuspecting redhead choked and sputtered 
on her tea. It took a minute or two of Monica smacking 
her on the back to get her to breathe again. "Um, I... not 
that I'm not flattered, but..." she stammered.

Again, Monica Reyes guffawed like nobody's 
business, enjoying another moment of pure, humorous 
bliss at Scully's expense. "You are so gullible!" Reyes 
proclaimed delightedly, and Scully scowled at her, which 
only made the woman laugh harder. Scully narrowed her 
eyes. As new-agey as she might have been, Monica's 
sense of humor was definitely veering more towards 
Mulder's than Melissa's.

"Very funny, Monica," she grumbled at her.

"Yeah, it was," Reyes had to agree, yawning 
openly. She stretched out her long, lean form, before 
glancing at her watch. "Whoa! It's two already? Jesus, I'd 
better get going. I don't mean to tease and run, but John 
hates it if I'm late in the mornings, and if I don't at least 
get a few hours sleep, I'm an absolute shit to be around."

"Imagine that," Scully smirked, her eyes twinkling. 
Her own teasing let Monica know there were no hard 
feelings.

Both women stood up together from the sofa. 
Scully covered her yawn, grateful for the fact that her first 
class didn't start tomorrow until noon. At least she would 
have the chance to sleep in a little. She walked Reyes to 
the door.

"Thanks for the tea, Dana, and the card games."

"Thanks for the company... and the concern," 
Scully replied.

"You're welcome." The taller woman reached for 
the doorknob.

"Monica?" she asked, somewhat timidly, recalling 
a silly conversation she and Mulder had had not so long 
ago.

"Mmm?"

"Did you... I mean, what you said before, you 
know, the hook up joke and the butt thing, have you ever 
thought of me as...?" she mumbled incoherently, not 
knowing how to finish her thought.

"Are you asking me if I find you attractive?" 
Monica asked perceptively.

"Uh... well... yeah..."

The tall woman smiled warmly, reached out a 
hand to caress her friend's face. "I think you're the most 
beautiful woman I've ever met, Dana, honest."

Scully blushed. "Oh... thanks."

"But I never would have made a play for you."

"Well, why not?" Dana asked, sounding almost 
insulted and frankly surprised over that fact. "I mean, is it 
because I'm a heterosexual... or...?"

"Trust me," Reyes was all too happy to explain, 
"everyone has at least some inherent bisexual tendencies. 

But no, that's not the reason why, anyway. I just know 
that nobody could ever compete for your love and 
affections... not with Mulder in the picture. You two are 
foreversville, Dana, I swear." 

The redhead laughed, rubbing tiredly at her eyes 
for a moment. "Yeah, that's certainly true. I love Mulder 
like no other."

"That goes both ways, trust me," Monica assured 
her. "You guys have something like I've never seen 
before. You'll always be together, I can just feel it."

Tears pricked at Scully's eyes, but this time, they 
were happy tears. "Thanks, Monica."

The two women embraced tightly for a long 
moment, then Monica surprised her friend, by leaning 
down to kiss her on the mouth. Scully didn't freak out 
over it. It felt like a kiss that her sister would have given 
her. Their fledgling friendship had survived a little 
awkwardness and a lot of sharing tonight, and remained 
intact and was in fact, stronger than ever now. She smiled 
as Monica said good night once more, and left, then she 
shut and locked the door, heading off to prepare for bed. 
Now that she didn't feel so lonely, she felt she could 
actually sleep in that bed by herself tonight.

^^^

Unbeknownst to her, the man in the shadows had 
witnessed the entire touching scene between the two friends. He 
had to admit, even through the discomfort of his rapidly 
tightening trousers, it had warmed him. Of course, that 
couldn't stop the pang of jealousy or the heartache from 
invading him as well.

Twenty minutes later, once the beautiful Agent Scully 
was sleeping soundly in her bed, after having changed into her 
pajamas, brushed her teeth, washed her face and checked on 
William, only then did the man leave his secret perch and 
venture closer to the old, brick building. Thankful that her 
apartment was on the ground floor, the shadow closed in, glad 
for the darkness and the late hour, as he crouched at her 
bedroom window and peered in through the sheer curtains. He 
watched the woman slumber peacefully for several minutes, 
noticing how she clutched tightly a gray tee shirt in her hands, 
even while sleeping.

"Good night, Scully," the shadowy figure 
whispered, barely audible, as he buttoned up his coat 
against the cold, night air. "I love you..."

Impossibly difficult though it was, Mulder wiped 
at his tears and walked away into the night, undetected 
by the people who were after him, but also by the woman 
who loved him...





Scene Nineteen: "Best. Porch. 
Ever!" [Rated 
NC-17]

July 23, 2002
Old Rundown W. Virginia Farmhouse
Middle of Nowhere
Mulder & Scully residence...?
2:17 p.m.

Mulder led his blindfolded partner out of the car, 
through the yard and up the rickety steps. He held her by 
her arms, careful not to let her stumble and fall. In a fit of 
daring, he did reach down to caress her bottom once. 
She'd said nothing of it, but she offered him a smile.

"Mulder, can I take this damn thing off now?" she 
asked, not liking the uncertainty of not being able to see. 
She knew her beloved wouldn't let her get hurt, but this 
loss of her eyes brought back unpleasant memories of 
losing her sight briefly, during a case a couple years back. 
It made her feel vulnerable.

"Almost, Scully," he promised as they reached the 
front door. He turned her around so that she was facing 
into the yard from their vantage on the front porch. 
"Okay... now!" And he removed her blindfold with 
dramatic flair.

Scully blinked in the afternoon sunlight, her eyes 
unaccustomed to it, having been blindfolded for the long 
drive from their hotel room. Once her eyes adequately 
adjusted and she could see more than just sunspots, she 
surveyed the large, unkempt yard she was presented 
with. She noticed a small, dilapidated looking structure 
nearby, possibly a shed, or perhaps it had once been a 
workshop of some kind, its walls littered with tools. She 
studied the quaint porch she and Mulder stood upon. It 
looked like it was ready to fall apart. She noticed the few 
boards that were already rotted through. Then she turned 
and looked at the front door of the house and made a face.

"I don't understand. Are we meeting an informant 
here, or... something?" she asked in confusion.

He grinned from ear to ear at her, wrapping one of 
his long arms around her shoulder. "Nope! This is ours, 
Scully, all ours!"

Her eyes grew wide. He wouldn't have... would 
he? "You're not seriously telling me you bought this... 
this..." She gestured to the undesirable area, unable to 
even adequately give it a name.

He not only would have... he did. 

"Honey, we're home!" he announced jubilantly. He 
released his hold on her and reached into his pocket for 
the keys to the house. He unlocked the door and let it 
swing open with a dramatic flourish. "Let me carry you 
over the threshold, my love," he said, reaching for her.

She held up a hand, effectively halting him from 
any further action.  Mulder didn't understand why she 
looked so confused, perhaps even slightly angry, but he 
had the sinking feeling he was about to find out.

"Mulder, do you mean to tell me that you spent all 
of our savings on this... this... dilapidated, should-be-
condemned, old farmhouse?"

Was that what she was so worried about, money? 
Well, she'd always been of the practical sort, so he 
supposed it was just in her nature. "Of course not, 
Scully," he assured her, smiling, and she sighed in frank 
relief, until he added, "I didn't spend all of our savings on 
it- not even close! This place was a real bargain, believe it 
or not."

"Oh, I believe it," she muttered, rubbing wearily at 
her temples. After over a month on the run, hiding out in 
different cities, different motels, Mulder had finally 
promised her that they could stop running, settle down 
somewhere. She had been so excited at the prospect of 
putting down roots again. She'd just had no idea that 
Mulder's definition of settling down somewhere actually 
meant shacking up in a run-down hovel in the middle of 
nowhere! She groaned, still rubbing at her head, which 
was developing quite an ache right about now.

Mulder's face lost that exuberant smile in the wake 
of Scully's less than enthusiastic response to the love nest 
he had acquired for them. "You don't like it," he 
murmured.

"Eh... I... well, Mulder... it's just that... it looks 
like it's... falling apart..."

"That's why it was so cheap!" he exclaimed, his 
excitement returning. "It was a fixer-upper special! And 
I'm going to do just that. I'm going to have this place 
looking like a palace within six months, just wait and see, 
Scully!"

"Um, Mulder?" Scully proceeded, trying to ask this 
in the most delicate manner possible. "Do you even know 
how to fix up a house?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "How hard can it be?"

"Oh, shit," Scully lamented, resting her weary head 
in her hands.

"Scully?" he asked in concern. "Are you all right?"

"Mmph," she mumbled through her fingers.

"Did you want me to try and get our money back?" 
he sighed in defeat. He really did like this place, and he 
wanted to stay, but he wouldn't if it was going to make 
his partner miserable. He'd already done enough of that 
to her in the last few years alone.

"I... no... this..." she was really having a hard time 
getting this out, "... it's... fine, Mulder. I just... where the 
hell are we?"

"West Virginia."

"Oh. But this place... I can't even see another house 
anywhere! We're in the middle of nowhere!"

"Precisely," he agreed, smiling. "It's a good place 
for me to lie low, know what I mean?"

She gazed at him in confusion. They had discussed 
this at length during the past month, about living life on 
the run versus finding a permanent home. They had 
finally decided to find a place and stay there. She had 
been planning on putting in some applications at a few 
hospitals in the area where they settled in the hopes of 
getting a job. She thought they were truly going to settle 
down, live a normal life- well, as normal a life as the two 
of them could manage, anyway. She hadn't been aware 
that he'd still been planning on remaining hidden. This 
would definitely change their plans, their lives!

"So... you still want to hide out? For how long?" 
she asked, looking despondent. 

He regarded her sympathetically, even though it 
was more his own life at stake should he be found out. "I 
don't know," he admitted, rubbing up and down on her 
back with a gentle hand. "I guess, until it's safe not to. 
Scully, don't forget, I'm still a wanted man. The FBI and 
the military were going to execute me and-"

"I know," she interrupted, not wanting to dredge 
up that horrendous and all too recent scare. "But I'm still 
going to be able to get out... go to work, right?" She loved 
Mulder, wanted to keep him safe, but she also knew that 
if he expected her to isolate herself along with him, she 
would go crazy within a week. She wasn't trying to be 
cruel, but it was true. She knew it would drive her insane, 
even if her beloved partner would be there with her.

"Well, you don't have to if you don't want to, 

Scully," he told her. "Between my whopping parental 
inheritance, your own nest egg and the fortune the guys 
left us, we're... to put it plainly, filthy rich!" He grinned 
at her.

She grinned back. Having always lived a frugal 
life, first with her family, surviving on a Navy man's pay 
and feeding four, growing children, and then into her 
adult life, making sure every penny was spent wisely, 
saving for a rainy day... she supposed this was one of 
those rainy days now. But her strong work ethic, instilled 
into her from birth, pushed through the thrill of being 
well off. "That's great, Mulder. I'm glad to hear that we 
won't be wanting for anything. But I... I still think I 
should try and find a job somewhere, as long as you think 
it's not too big a risk. I mean, if you want me to change 
my name and appearance, or something-"

"You're not changing your name," he said. "You're 
Scully, my beautiful Scully." He caressed her face and she 
smiled lovingly. "And please don't ever change your hair 
color. Red is just... so... you."

She reached up, kissed his cheek. "Okay, I won't, 
but I really do think I should work. I mean, it's nice to 
know we have so much money to fall back on, Mulder, 
but we should be holding onto as much of it as we can. 
You never know when we'll really need it, in case of a true 
emergency, God forbid. If I'm bringing home a steady 
income, we can keep our savings and live off of what I 
make."

"Ah, that famous Scully work ethic," he teased her 
good-naturedly. "Sometimes I forget that we came from 
such different backgrounds."

"High-class Mulder and middle-class Scully," she 
joked.

"No, if anyone is high class around here, it's you, 
sweetheart," he promised. "But you're right, of course. 
And I know you'd go stir crazy being stuck out here with 
me, twenty-four/seven."

"Mulder, that's not it-" she began.

"Okay, yeah, you don't like remaining idle, either," 
he agreed, chuckling. "Jesus, I can't imagine how many 
ugly sweaters you'd be knitting me if you didn't get a job. 
So, please, love, go... work! I'll keep the home fires 
burning." He winked at her.

"I bet you will," she replied, feeling heady with 
lust. The idea of working a full, productive day and 
coming home to the sexy man standing before her every 
night... well, to her that was more than enough of an 
incentive to get her work done and get her ass home 
promptly! "And thanks, for understanding," she said, her 
blue eyes misty with sentiment.

"You're welcome, Scully, and thanks for 
understanding my need to lay low. I hope you won't mind 
me being your house-husband."

"Of course not," she told him, blushing slightly at 
the mention of the word husband. That was one thing she 
hoped to make official very soon.

"So... you're really okay with it, then?" he asked 

hopefully. "I mean, working every day and supporting a 
bum like me? I know this isn't what you've been hoping 
for, when you were waiting for me..." He bowed his head 
sadly, a classic case of Mulder-guilt sweeping into the 
forefront.

"Hey," she said, stepping closer and enveloping 
him in her embrace. "It'll be great, Mulder. Sure, you 
hiding out indefinitely isn't exactly what we were hoping 
for when we finally reunited, but the most important 
thing is keeping you safe. And you will be here. With me. 
The point is, we'll be together, because, honestly, that last 
year apart... God, it was hell!"

"Scully, I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.

"No," she insisted. "Don't apologize, love. Really, 
at the time it was probably for the best that you'd gone 
into hiding. Logically, I agreed with our decision to 
separate. But... emotionally, it was... hell." She sniffled a 
little, rested her head upon his shoulder.

"It was for me, too, Scully," he admitted sadly. "I 
mean, it was nice having Gibson there to keep me 
company, but... God, I missed you so damn much! It 
killed me inside a little bit every day. And then not 
getting to see William-" he stopped suddenly. He wasn't 
sure if their son was considered a taboo subject at this 
time. Except for that morning in the military jail, when 
Scully had confessed to him that she'd given the boy up 
for adoption, they had not really talked about him since.

"It's... okay, Mulder," Scully murmured softly, 
realizing the same the thing herself, which actually 
stunned her and made the pain even worse. She tried not 
to cry any harder. "William... will always be our son... I 
still regret to this day what I did, but..."

"You did what you had to do," he said, rubbing 
her back. "I... I might have had to do the same thing if I 
was the only parent there and you'd been in hiding..." He 
looked out into the yard wearing a wistful expression. He 
would have done anything to protect their beloved child, 
just as she had. He wished he could convince her that he 

wasn't angry, he didn't resent her decision, or her for 
doing what she felt was the right thing to do.

Scully shook her head. "No, you wouldn't have. 
I... you would have been able to..." Her voice trailed off, 
the tears flowing freely now.

"Honey, we can't know that," he soothed, kissing 
her on the brow. "I... I'm sorry I brought this up right 
now. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," she whimpered, forcing herself to calm 
down. "I know... it does hurt to talk about him, but I 
think... it would hurt worse if we never did. But... maybe 
it's too soon..." She buried her face against his shoulder.

"Yeah," he agreed, tenderly running his fingers 
through her beautiful, red tresses. He had missed that, 
missed being able to physically touch her, to hear her 
voice, see her face. He had just really missed her. 
"Scully..." he sighed, his voice sounding gruff, trying to 
hold in his own tears.

"Mulder?" she asked in confusion, looking up into 
his lovely hazel eyes.

"I love you, so much," he sobbed.

"Love you, too, darling," she vowed, reaching up 
with a gentle hand to wipe his tears away. "God, I'm so 
glad to have you back. I'm so glad that we're together."

She stood on tiptoe, at the same time, pulling his 
face down towards her. When their lips touched, it was 
like the Fourth of July! Sparks flew, heat rose and 
fireworks appeared, the kind that generated oohs and 
ahhs! They had been apart for so long, and even though 
they'd reunited over a month ago, it was still so new, and 
they were still so excited and desperate for each other, 
that nearly every embrace and all their kisses could ignite 
a passion that burned brighter and hotter than the sun 
shining over them.

Mulder's hands roamed freely over his partner's 
small, supple form. They had been making love nearly 
every night since his escape from the military jail, but he 
still couldn't keep his hands off of her. A public setting, in 
the middle of the day, even while driving, he was 
obsessed with touching her, embracing her, kissing her, 
loving her, every chance he got. She wasn't complaining. 
She had been deprived of him for the better of two years, 
while he'd been first missing, then dead, then in hiding. 
And before that, they had deprived themselves- and each 
other- of love and closeness and intimacy for so long. 
They held to some practical reasons, and some that were 
silly, to avoid giving into their need and adoration. They 
had waited until it had been nearly too late those few 
years ago. They had known each other and been in love 
for ten years, and in this last month since being reunited, 
they had made love more then than they ever had for that 
long, lonely decade. Neither would say so, but both of 
them felt that was pretty pathetic.

Mulder groaned as Scully sucked his earlobe into 
her mouth. It didn't matter that she had to strain her neck 
to reach him, or that he had to bend over and strain his 
back, although he had to admit, there were times- such as 
these- that he wished either he was shorter or she was 
taller. But he had a brilliant idea that would not only 
lessen the strain on his back, but that would get them 
horizontal... "Hey," he whispered, smiling as she 
growled possessively and gripped his shoulders sucking 
even harder on that lobe, "let's say we christen the porch 
right now?"

"With what?" she asked breathlessly, before 
moving to his neck, licking all the way up to his chin. "I 
think I left a water bottle in the car."

"No," he chuckled, cupping her face in his large, 
warm hands. "I was thinking more along the lines of the 
juices of our love..."

Scully stopped licking and started laughing. "Oh, 
that sounds just lovely, Mulder."

"Really?" he asked mockingly. "And here I was 
going for down and dirty."

"Oh, don't worry. You achieved that as well," she 
snorted.

He gazed at her with bedroom eyes. Before she 
knew what he was up to, he had literally swept her off of 
her feet and started lowering her to the splintered, rotted 
floor of the porch.

"M-Mulder... we can't! Not here on the porch!"

"Why not, beautiful?" he asked in his most 
seductive tone. "You think the only reason I picked this 
location was to hide out? As you pointed out, we're in the 
middle of nowhere. Or are you afraid I'll make you 
scream so loud in ecstasy that the people twelve acres 
away will hear you?"

"No, I'm afraid once we get... going, we'll fall 
through the rotted floor boards and end up stuck in the 
crawl space. Then we'll be forced to call 911 to extract us 
and then your new hideout would be null and void and 
we'd have to move yet again!"

"Damn," he laughed at her long-winded 
explanation. "Dana Scully, ever the voice of reason..."

She shrugged. "Well..."

He was quiet for a long moment, as if weighing her 
words carefully. But soon the thoughtful expression was 
replaced with a mischievous one. "I'll take my chances," 
he said, and had her on the hard wood porch before she 
had time to protest.

If nothing else, she had to admire his quickness 
and his determination. He had both of their pants pulled 
down just enough to permit their joining, as well as her 
shirt and bra pulled up with an amazing amount of 
speed. He lay carefully on top of her and began furiously 
sucking her neck, while his hand sought out a soft, pliant 
breast.

With the force of his suction, Scully just knew she 
was going to have one helluva hickey on her fair skin 
within minutes. "Mulder," she weakly protested, "I might 
get job interviews in the next couple of days..."

He released her neck with a loud popping sound 
that made her moan. "So? This Mulder love mark will 
only let your interviewer know what a loving, healthy sex 
life you have, which will counter balance the long shifts 
they'll be expecting you to work. You'll seem very happy 
and well rounded, which is a good thing to have in an 
employee. You'll be a shoe-in!"

"Interesting hypothesis," she claimed, watching as 
he kissed his way from her neck down to her breasts, 
lavishing them with the same intensity that he used to 
display when working on a particularly fascinating case 
back in their days at the Bureau. "Who am I to argue with 
that logic? Oh. My. God!" she growled, the heat radiating 
through her entire body with a primal need to connect 
with him physically in the most basic way.

After spending some quality time on his beloved's 
upper torso, his talented lips, tongue and fingers moved 
downward yet again, traveling down past her stomach 
and hips until they reached the heavenly juncture 
between her thighs. "Mmm, Scully, my favorite flavor!" he 
said, looking up at her, enjoying the anticipation on her 
aroused face.  He knew she loved this, knew she loved 
watching him as he did this to her. He kept his eyes on her 

as he slowly lowered his mouth to her core, worshiping 
her with the greatest of reverence.

Moaning almost continuously now, Scully urged 
him to stop his ministrations after only a few minutes, by 
gently squeezing her knees against the sides of his head.  
He knew what she needed instinctively without even 
having to ask, although he was slightly disappointed that 
his tongue did not get to finish the job it had started. But 
he had an even more willing body part that was ready to 
resume the task. He was soon hovering over her and 
slowly pushing himself into her tight, wet warmth. They 
stared into each other's eyes before briefly closing for a 
kiss.

When Mulder started to move, Scully whispered, 
"Go easy on me, love, okay?"

"Are you still sore from last night?" he asked in 
concern. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He kissed her 
brow.

She smiled euphorically at him. "I know you 
wouldn't. I'm more worried about the splintered floor 
boards skewering my ass."

He laughed, then tucked her hair back behind her 
ear, as he gently thrusted into her, testing the strength of 
the wood beneath them. It creaked a little. He slid his 
hands beneath her butt to keep her soft, bare skin from 
getting bruised or embedded with splinters. "Love you, 
Scully," he moaned, resuming his gentle thrusting. "So 
grateful we can do this anytime we want now..."

"Me, too, darling," she sighed, reaching up to rake 
her teeth playfully over his chin. "Love you... oh, God! 
Love you so much..."

Soon both of them were flying high and singing the 
praises of God above, as well as each other. Instead of 
collapsing on her, as he usually did when in the 
missionary position, Mulder pulled out of her quickly- 
disappointing them both a little- and stood up, then 
helped her to stand shakily beside him. He made a special 
effort to check her backside for any splinters.

"Everything okay back there?" she sniggered as he 
ran his hands over the smooth skin of her rump.

"Oh, yeah, looking real good," he assured her, 
growling a little and then giving her bottom a quick 
smack. He pulled her pants up for her but let her button 
them, while he attended to his own. "Hmm, a little sticky 
down there, but in the best possible way." He winked at 
her and she blushed.

Scully readjusted her bra and shirt. She sighed 
dreamily, then, to his surprise, started to laugh, long and 
heartily. Mulder looked over at her in concern. "Scully? 
You all right?"

She smoothed down her tousled hair. "Oh, I'm 
good, Mulder, really good. I was just... well... I'm just 
amazed at the things I find myself doing with you..."

"You mean like discovering mutants and fighting 
against colonization and being on the run for a month, 
only to settle down and hide out in a secluded 
farmhouse?" he asked in confusion.

"Actually, I was referring to making love outside 
on a rickety old porch in broad daylight, but now that you 
mention it, yeah, those other things, too."

He chuckled, now in on the joke, and leaned down 
to kiss her.

"Come on, Scully, I want to show you the inside of 
the house. It's fantastic!"

"Not as great as the porch, though," she 
whispered, following him into the front door. "I mean, 
this area holds a special place in my heart now."

They smiled radiantly at each other, still basking in 
the afterglow, as he led through into the living room. "It's 
definitely the best. Porch. Ever!" he agreed. "But I'm sure 
you'll make new favorites as we continue to christen each 
room in the house."

"Sounds like a plan," she winked. Now that they 
were finally going to be experiencing some domesticity 
together, she planned on tackling her partner and fucking 
him senseless every chance she got. Thankfully, this last 
month had given her plenty of practice.

They began their tour of the quiet house, and 
Scully was relieved to find the inside of it was much less 
rundown than the outside, so that was a plus. Seeing that 
she wasn't disgusted with the place and running away 
screaming, Mulder took it to mean that she had accepted 
the little farmhouse as their new home. He showed her 
around the place, taking her hand and leading her 
through each room, animatedly envisioning a fresh coat 
of paint here, a nice sofa there. Scully agreed with nearly 
every idea he had, more enthralled with his apparent 
excitement over living together, creating a home together, 
than with the house itself. She kept a hold of his hand 
through out the entire inspection. And when she thought 
about it, the house definitely held potential. It had a 
decent sized kitchen, homey living room, a nice master 
bedroom, with a full sized bathroom connected to it. This 
master bathroom also boasted a big, claw foot tub that 
Mulder had been determined to find because he knew 
that it would please Scully. The house even boasted of 
extra rooms that could serve as guest bedrooms or an 
office for each of them, which would be nice, considering 
Scully liked her office space tidy and Mulder... did not.

Once their tour had ended and it had started to get 
dark outside, they left for the evening, both anxious to 
return the following day, to get started on renovations 
and taking measurements to find furniture that would fit 
each room. They were going to stop and get something to 
eat on the way back to the hotel. On the way, Mulder 
mentioned to his beloved that there was a small, but well-
established hospital nearby. It was called Our Lady of 
Sorrows, a Catholic run facility that sounded like a perfect 
fit for Scully. He urged her to apply for a job there and 
she agreed that it sounded like a great idea.

They stopped and ate dinner at an out-of-the-way 
diner that looked a little run-down and ancient, but 
proudly boasted on their sign out front, The best burger in 
100 miles! It wasn't all that far from the hospital Scully 
was suddenly so interested in learning about and she 
suggested that after dinner, they ought to stop by, check it 
out and get a feel for the place and the faculty they had 
there. She had a hopefulness shining in her eyes that 
melted Mulder's heart. After so much sadness and pain, 
Scully was finally starting to feel happy and eager to get 
her new life started. That included both possibly getting a 
job at the hospital, and moving in with her beloved.

"So, what do you say, Mulder?" she asked 
excitedly. "We'll stop in and take a look around, I can ask 
for an application, then we can be home in time to watch 
some TV and maybe have a little nookie before bed." She 
smiled at him and it was so dazzling, he nearly fell 
backwards in his chair.

He giggled, sounding like a naughty kid. "Damn, 
Scully, you said nookie!"

"Yes, I did," she agreed, her smile turning a little 
bit naughty herself.

"Wow, Dana Scully said nookie... and she was 
referring to me when she said it..." He seemed truly 
amazed, and quite giddy.

"No one else I'd indulge in a little nookie with," 
she informed him. "So, what do you say, love?"

"About the nookie? Hell, yes!" he exclaimed, and 
an older couple stared at him for awhile. Surprisingly, 
they didn't look disgusted, but rather amused. The old 
gentleman even gave him a knowing smile, while Scully 
blushed furiously.

"Mulder," she groaned, hiding her head in her 

hands.

"Love hearing you groan my name, Scully," he 
cracked, "although we did just christen our porch and I'm 
not exactly a young man anymore..."

"Bullshit," she laughed. "You're not an old man 
either, and just a few days ago, I was treated to three 
lovely adventures by you in one night, if I recall."

"Actually, it was four," he bragged. "I think you 
passed out that last time."

"I did?"

His chest puffed out in manly pride. "That's right. I 
not only fucked you senseless, but unconscious, too. 
Damn, I'm good."

The lusty smile that appeared on her face nearly 
made him gasp out loud. "Yes, you are. So... is it a date?"

He took her hand. "Always, Scully, always..." 
They stared dreamily into each other's eyes for a moment, 
until Mulder remembered. "Oh, wait! Except for the 
going to the hospital part. We can't really..."

"Why not? Hospitals are always open, Mulder. It's 
so close and I'd like to get a head start on the job 
possibilities, now that we know where we're settling."

"Well, of course," he agreed, "we can stop by, 
Scully. But, uh, I'll have to wait outside in the car."

"But why?"

"I don't want to be seen."

"With me?"

"No, that's not what I mean, love. I don't want to 
be seen in public at all."

"Well, we're in a public place right now," she 
reminded him. "And people can see you, and they're 
probably looking."

"Why, because I'm sitting with the hottest woman 
who ever walked the face of the earth?" he asked, 
bringing her small hand to his lips for a kiss.

"No," she blushed, "because you've done nothing 
but blurt out words of a sexual nature since we got here. 
I'm surprised we haven't been thrown out." She smirked 
at him.

"Nah, the patrons here are mostly of the over sixty 
persuasion. And you know how dirty-minded they are."

"Oh, right, of course," she chuckled. "But they still 
can see you, if that's what you're afraid of, being seen, 
noticed, spotted."

"Well, we'll be paying cash for the meal, so even if 
the FBI waltzed in right after we left, they'd only have a 
bunch of near-sighted oldsters trying to describe what we 
look like. We wouldn't be leaving a concrete trail. But, if I 
go into the hospital with you, and you talk with some of 
the staff there, unless you want to look rude, and I know 
you wouldn't, you'd have to introduce me around. And 
since you'll be using your real name, if the FBI finds you 
there some time, and they ask any of the other employees 
if they've ever seen you with some tall, handsome, dark-
haired man, well..."

"Handsome doesn't even cover it," she promised, 
but she looked disappointed. "I still don't think it would 
get go so far as to-"

"Scully," he explained in a whisper, and his grip 
on her hand tightened, "If anyone discovers you there, 
and finds out about me, then I could easily be re-
captured... executed..." He stared imploringly into her 
big, blue eyes.

She nodded sadly, longing for him to cease in this 
depressing turn of the conversation. "I understand, 
Mulder. I- I'll just check out the hospital tomorrow 
morning instead. That will give us more time for some... 
nookie when we get back." She waggled her eyebrows at 
him, a perfect imitation of an expression he had bestowed 
upon her millions of times over the years.

He laughed appreciatively at her, and also got very 
turned on in the bargain. But he quickly sobered, 
mentally kicking himself for disappointing her yet again. 
"I'm so sorry, Scully," he murmured. He knew that this 
new life would be tough. Their only real consolation... 
their only true comfort would be each other. And that 
comfort could only be experienced and displayed in 
secret. While this new situation would certainly not be as 
hellish as physical separation, Mulder knew that 
ultimately, it was still something of a prison, a sad 
circumstance to bear, especially for her. He only hoped 
that his continued presence in her life, clandestine though 
it had to be, would never cease to be a comfort instead of 
becoming another burden. "I feel so bad to do this to you, 
but this is why I chose that farmhouse. It's not close to 
any other homesteads, or businesses and I'll be able to lay 
low. That's the only way I can live without still running 
from the law and hiding in the shadows. It's the only way 
we can be together, live together... only if my residence 
can remain a secret."

"And here I thought you liked the isolated location 
so that we could make love on the front porch in broad 
daylight whenever we wanted," she murmured, running 
her fingers over his knuckles, an act he found oddly 
sensual.

He grinned wolfishly at her. "Well, that's my first 
reason for choosing the place. But the other reason is so 
that I have a decent hideout. So, when you get hired at the 
hospital- and I know you will, because you're so damn 
smart and just plain wonderful- you will have to list 
yourself as single and living alone. No one can know that 
I exist in your life, let alone share a bed with you."

Another wave of sadness passed over Scully's 
lovely features, before she could tamp it down. Mulder, of 
course, knowing her better than anyone, noticed it, 
anyway, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. His eyes 
clouded over, feeling miserable over the misery he felt he 
was continually causing her. "Scully?"

"I... I thought we still might have... I mean... 
never mind," she stammered, feeling foolish, her face 
burning red in shame and embarrassment. She bowed her 
head over her half-eaten meal, letting her hair obscure her 
face from him.

Her getting so embarrassed and trying to hide it 
made Mulder wonder with great concern. They had been 
through so much together in the past decade. They had 
loved each other fiercely through out that span of time, 
although he knew that it had only been in the last three 
years that their relationship had grown to include every 
possible aspect of intimacy. Since that time, Mulder had 
not seen much of that avoidance or embarrassment from 
his beautiful partner. Sure, he could still make her blush, 
but usually only by doing or saying something of a sexual 
nature or showering her with compliments. But what she 
was doing right now was something right out of his pre-
love affair Dana Scully. Maybe even before they'd become 
good friends. After their partnership had blossomed to 
include such closeness, she had still opened up to him at 
times.

He felt like there was a rock currently residing in 
the pit of his stomach that had very little to do with the 
meatloaf he had ordered. He reached across the table, 
taking her chin in his hand. "Scully, please talk to me. We 
can't keep secrets from each other."

"It's... nothing, Mulder," she whispered, tears 
threatening to fall from her true blue eyes.

"It's not nothing, and I need to know what it is," he 
demanded, trying to keep his voice calm and even. He 
wasn't succeeding very well. He was sure Scully would 
mistake his edginess for anger. But it wasn't anger. It was 
fear, plain and simple.

Scully, who knew Mulder better than he knew 
himself, understood that his fear often came across as 
anger. She did not wish to start crying at a diner in 
Nowheresville, USA, but she did not want him to be 
afraid, either, especially not because of her.

"I just... I had been hoping that we might... get 
married... or something..." She watched as his eyes grew 
wide, and she couldn't help but avert her gaze again.

"Oh, God!" he exclaimed, and he looked like he 
was about ready to smack himself in the forehead. He 
refrained from doing so, but he felt like the biggest jerk in 
the world right about now. "Oh, Scully, I... you have to 
believe how much I want to marry you, too. But if we did, 
the FBI could get wind of it, making it easier to find me 
and..."

"I understand, Mulder," she said, sounding like the 
strong, little trooper he knew so well. She took a hold of 
his hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, 
really."

He sighed, clearly upset, for wanting the same 
thing as she and being denied, and also for denying her. 
"No, it's not okay, Scully. There is nothing I'd love more 
than to make it official with you, but-"

"I know," she said, looking deeply into his hazel 
eyes. "That was selfish of me. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not selfish," he told her. "You're the 
least selfish person I know. But if you really feel that way, 
then count me in as equally guilty of being selfish, 
because I'd be so honored to have you as my wife, and to 
be your husband. I'd always imagined we would tie the 
knot someday, you know..."

"Really?" she asked hopefully, another smile 
creeping up on her lovely face.

"Damn straight, really! Scully, in spite of all the 
crap I'm facing, all the crap I'm trying to run away from, I 
can never forget just how fortunate I am to be with you. 
The fact that you actually want to be with me, even with 
all the dangers and uncertainty that I bring into your 
life... I... it just astounds me. I am the luckiest man alive, 
because I have you, and I know it. I love you, Scully, and 
even if we can't do it officially, I couldn't love you more 
than if you actually were my wife."

Fresh tears glistened in her eyes. Today seemed to 
be a day for heartfelt revelations. Still, she had to admit, 
she was more of a sentimental fool than she had ever been 
in her entire life. Ever since Mulder's abduction, which 
coincided with her pregnancy, followed by Mulder's 
"death" and burial, his strange but wonderful 
resurrection, then becoming a mother and being 
separated from Mulder yet again, this time just after 
giving birth to his son... well, it was a lot for one woman 
to handle, and whether it be hormones or her heart 
finding a way to live through all the tumultuous moments 
fate had thrust upon her, Scully had noticed a change in 
her demeanor. She was... more emotional, at least in the 
demonstrative sense. 

It wasn't as if she hadn't felt sadness or pain or 
experienced happiness or joy before that long string of 
events had taken place in her life, but she had been much 
more effective in concealing her emotions, tucking them 
away into her secret stash of feelings she dared not let out 
into the light. She liked being in control- emotions made 
her feel out of control. So, her simple solution was to 
bottle them up, lest she appear weak, silly, and unable to 
contain herself. It was a Dana Scully defense mechanism 
that had served her well for so many years. 

But ever since those topsy turvey events had come 
into her life in rapid succession, Scully found herself 
incapable of hiding it all away, not as easily as she used 
to. She wasn't sure if she had faltered in her steely resolve 
to keep her feelings hidden, or if she just simply didn't see 
the point in doing so anymore. Even she couldn't exactly 
deduce the true reason behind her shift into the more 
tenderhearted woman she had become. She knew Mulder 
had noticed the change. She only hoped that he liked it, or 
at least, was okay with it. 

"I feel so blessed to be with you, Mulder," she 
vowed. "And even though we'll still have to... hide our 
relationship for now, I am so happy that I'll have you to 
come home to every night."

His grin went from ear to ear, and it was then for 
sure, that she knew... He liked the more emotional Scully, 
liked her a lot! He was also thrilled beyond compare over 
her acceptance with what he could give her, and knowing 
him well enough to know all that he wished he could give 
her. He only hoped that this would be a temporary 
situation. "I love you, Dana Scully. You're so beautiful."

She laughed appreciatively at his goofy grin, as 
well as his compliment. "I love you, Mulder, and I think 
you're beautiful, too."

"I promise I'll be the best house-husband ever!" he 
declared, making her laugh even harder. "I'll cook and 
clean and fix up that house."

"Promises, promises," she teased. "Mulder, as 
much as I love you, I haven't forgotten your slovenly 
ways. In fact, I got a reminder of them when we were 
reunited last month and have been sharing hotel rooms 
ever since."

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Regardless, our 
place is gonna be great! That house will be wonderful!"

"Sure, Mulder, sure," she chuckled doubtfully. 
"But, um, you really should fix up the porch. It's kind of a 
favorite spot of mine on the premises, and I plan on 
spending a lot of... quality time on it with you." She gave 
him a sultry look.

"What a coincidence, it's my favorite spot, too! Of 
course, once we move in, I'm sure we'll find many, many 
more favorite spots suitable for our special brand of 
quality time, Scully. There's the house... and the 
workshop, and the yard..." He waggled his eyebrows at 
her.

Scully felt as though she might burst, she felt so 
happy and so full of promise at this moment. The future 
was uncertain at best, foreboding at worst, but she 
couldn't help but to have an optimistic outlook, especially 
when her partner of ten years sat across from her and 
stared so lovingly into her eyes. She didn't know whether 
to laugh or cry. Ultimately, she did both. "I cannot believe 
we're actually going to be living together, Mulder! Just to 
get to see you everyday, to fall asleep with you, wake up 
with you... this is what I've prayed for, for so long, you'll 
just never know how much."

"Sure, I do," he assured her. "I've prayed for this 
moment in our lives, too. I'm just sorry that we'll be 
technically, eh, what do you Catholics call it? Living in 
sin?"

"Rest assured, Mulder, that there is absolutely 
nothing sinful about us." She paused. "Well, except 
maybe for how sinfully handsome you are. Or for the 
sinful thoughts I'm having about you right now." She 
licked her lips and his mouth fell open in shock.

"Day-um, Scully, talk about sinful- sinfully hot! 
Although, I'm sure your sinful thoughts can't even begin 
to compare with the ones I entertain about you."

"Oh, really? Is that a challenge?"

"Definitely!" he growled.

"Care to compare sinful thoughts, Mulder, so we 
can declare a winner?"

"Oh, I plan on just showing you just how sinful my 
thoughts are once we get back to the hotel... or maybe 
just the car. Don't even know if my sinful thoughts will 
allow me to wait that long."

"Mulder," she laughed, "you don't think that the 
risk of getting arrested in a parked car in a public parking 
lot for performing lewd acts won't get you found by the 
FBI?"

He sighed happily in defeat. "Ah, my sensible 
Scully, always looking out for me. All right, I'll do my 
best to contain my libido, until we drive to the hotel... but 
I'm not making any promises!"

"Fair enough," she agreed. "Come on, let's get out 
of here."

They got up from their table and Mulder left a 
rather generous tip for the waitress. Scully stared at him 
in surprise. Usually, he was a complete cheapskate when 
it came to tipping gratuities. He caught her staring at him 
and shrugged. "Guess you're not the only one who's 
changed a little bit." 

They smiled warmly at each other and then paid 
the cashier for their dinners. As they started for the exit, 
Mulder put his hand at his familiar spot on her lower 
back. Somehow, this didn't seem adequate enough 
anymore. He then wrapped his arm around her shoulder. 
She, in turn, wrapped her arm around his waist. This felt 
perfect! This was to be the new norm for their 
relationship. Gazing upon each other, Mulder and Scully 
headed for their car.



Scene Twenty: "You Just Never 
Know What Great Things You'll 
Find At The Grocery Store..." 
[Rated R]

Spring 2008
W. Virginia
Lil' Ginny's Country Market
8:52 a.m., Saturday

Scully grabbed a shopping cart in the parking lot 
and pushed it towards the entrance to the grocery store, a 
very reluctant Mulder trailing behind with a look of 
trepidation. She glanced back, noticed that he was 
lagging, and she stopped, then leaned back and grabbed 
his hand.

"Come on, Mulder," she chuckled, watching as he 
stared at the market with his panic face. "No need to freak 
out. You've been leaving the house quite a bit in the past 
few months. You solved the FBI's case, you started 
running again, and you took me on a wonderful vacation 
a month ago. Surely, you're not still fearful that the FBI 
will go back on its word and abscond with you right here 
in the grocery store?"

"No, I'm just afraid of the grocery store," he 
admitted, not looking very happy to be there.

She rolled her eyes. "Mulder! Why are you afraid 
of the grocery store now?"

"Because I hate grocery shopping," he informed 
her, struggling a little as she pulled him along towards 
the entrance.

"I guess you would be a little out of practice," she 
sympathized as they entered the store and removed their 
jackets, setting them in the front of the cart. "Six years in 
isolation will do that..." She stared at him pointedly and 
he laughed.

"Scully, do you remember what my fridge looked 
like before we started cohabitating?"

"Dirty, empty and smelly," she replied without 
thinking much about it.

"Exactly. Now, why do you think it was always 
that way, Doc?"

She smirked at him. "Because you were lazy, 
piggish and slovenly?"

"Hardy har har," he retorted. "I was merely 
referring to the empty part, which was meant to imply that 
I've always hated going to the grocery store... it goes way 
back to when I was a kid."

"Well, you're not a kid anymore, love," she 
informed his still boyishly handsome nearly fifty-year-old 
self. "And now that you're out of exile and can venture 
into public again, I'm taking advantage of it and showing 
you around the grocery store, so you'll have no excuse to 
say that you don't know where anything is. I don't always 
enjoy having to stop here on the way home after a long 
shift because we're out of something."

"Why not?" he asked, looking the slightest bit put 
out.

"Because I'm nearly always exhausted after a long 
shift."

He made a face. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Scully. 
Most of the time you just go on your day off, anyway."

"That's not even the point, Mulder, and don't be an 
ass," she told him, poking him in the gut and receiving a 
startled, "oof," in response. She pushed the cart down one 
of the aisles. "You've got the list," she reminded him.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right," he began, searching 
through his pockets, patting himself down. "... Um, do I?"

She groaned. "Great! First rule of grocery 
shopping: Don't lose the list!"

"What's the second rule?" he asked obnoxiously, 
finding her rule to be very amusing.

"Don't piss off your partner!" she hissed, and he 
grimaced. "Well, it's not a total loss. You're Mr. 
Photographic Memory, right? You can just recall the items 
on the list." She smiled at her own clever rationale. 

"Yes, that would be the perfect solution, Scully," he 
told her with a wry smile, "if I had actually read the list."

Scully closed her eyes, counted to ten, a little 
something she had learned to do early on when dealing 
with unruly siblings. Now, the practice worked great on 
unruly lovers, as well... most of the time. She grumbled 
quietly to herself, before her voice gained enough volume 
to draw the attention of several other customers who had 
innocently come near to grab a box of macaroni and 
cheese or a bag of rice. "Well, great! That's just great, 
Mulder! We're here less than five minutes and you've 
already managed to break the first two rules of grocery 
shopping!"

Mulder swallowed. He knew Scully loved him 
more than anything. He also knew that, especially after 
living together for so long, they both knew better than 
ever how to push each other's buttons. He excelled at it, 
although, if he had to be fair, his beautiful partner was 
quite capable in her own right to make him want to rip 
out his own hair sometimes. But this time, he was the 
champ.

"What's the third rule?" he asked her brightly.

"Why do you want to know, Mulder? So you can 
break that, too?"

"I aim to please, Scully," he said, giving her his 
best puppy dog eyes. He couldn't hide his smirk, but it 
didn't matter. The puppy dog eyes would be all she 
would see.

She sighed. How was she supposed to keep up her 
stern and disapproving demeanor over his childish antics 
and irresponsibility when he looked at her like that? 
Damn, he's always got to hit me with the big guns! He knows 
the puppy dog eyes just slay me every time!

"Come on," she said, pushing the cart onward. "I 
think I can remember most of the items."

"Atta girl, Scully!"

"Shut up, Mulder."

"Okay."

***

Thirty minutes later...

"Where the hell is he?" Scully demanded to know, 
becoming more impatient with each passing second.
She searched each aisle, passing by at a rapid rate. 
She found her guy over by the toys and magazines. 
Muttering under her breath the entire length of the aisle, 
she approached him as he skimmed through one of those 
tabloid newspapers she detested. She could see he held a 
long, thin object in his hand.

"Mulder?" she announced in an authoritative voice 
that made him jump. "What are you doing down here?"

He turned around, wearing a sheepish expression. 
"Hey, Scully," he said, smiling at her. "What's up, 
beautiful?"

"What's up?" she repeated, looking none too 
happy. "Mulder, I sent you to get a loaf of bread fifteen 
minutes ago!"

"Got it right here," he said, un-tucking it from 
under his arm and displaying it in front of her perturbed 
face. He then noticed that it was squished from being held 
so tightly in his armpit. "Huh. That's the damndest thing. 
I don't remember this bread being so flat when I picked it 
up..."

"Mulder!"

"Yeah?"

"You were supposed to bring the bread back to the 
cart immediately," she sighed.

He sighed right back. "Oh, jeez, Scully! What rule 
number did I break this time?"

"Number seventeen, but that's beside the point."

Mulder laughed, eyeing her with affection. "God, 
you're so anal!"

"I am not!" she told him, wondering how many 
times in their life they were going to have this argument.

"You know, on most people, I would find it 
terribly annoying, but with you, it's cute."

"It is not!" she insisted, getting a little flustered. "I 
mean, I am not!"

"What? Cute?" he teased her, his eyes twinkling 
over the fact that after all these years together, he could 
still get her goat. "Oh, you are so cute, Doc, it should be a 
crime... and you're hot, too." He leered at her.

Scully stood there for a moment, staring at a grown 
man who was carrying a smashed loaf of bread in one 
hand and what appeared to be some kind of whistle in the 
other, all the while, he was trying to flirt with her, finding 
her annoyance over his antics to be quite amusing. Did he 
not realize the consequences of such dangerous actions? 
They had been together in one form or another for fifteen 
years. He knew she had a temper, and yet, he still 
continued to enjoy trying to get a rise out of her. 
Obviously, his years spent in isolation from everyone but 
her had taken their toll on his mind.

"What is that in your hand?" she asked, trying to 
keep the peace for the sake of the other patrons in the 
store if for nothing else.

"Bread," he told her with a wicked grin.

She smirked at him. "I meant your other hand, 
Mulder."

"Oh, this? It's a slide whistle." He gave her another 
leer. He had absolutely no shame.


"Are you planning on buying it?"

"Yes, that I am, my lovely," he said.

His smile was infectious and Scully found her 
mood turning from irritation to playful. She couldn't help 
it. Mulder had that effect on her. "Why?" she asked him.

He used the slide to make the whistle toot, 
producing a comical sound like one might hear in a silly 
movie. It startled a few passersby and seemed to amuse 
him to no end. "It's funny," he explained.

"It's annoying," she replied, although she couldn't 
hide her grin.

"Ah, well, you know me, Scully. I must always use 
my powers to annoy. Besides, check it out..." He slowly 
pushed the slide mechanism in and out of the whistle 
casing, making the noise again. She watched it in 
confusion, until she glanced up at his face and saw the 
mischievous look in his eye. "What does that remind you 
of, Doc?" he whispered into her ear, using a decidedly 
seductive tone.

"Jesus, Mulder!" she blurted, taken by surprise at 
his innuendo. This just wasn't something she was 
accustomed to experiencing at a grocery store.

"Yes, my love?" he asked, blowing into her ear.

"Just put... it... just put it into the cart," she 
muttered, completely red in the face.

With a look of triumph, Mulder brushed his arm 
purposely against her breast as he crossed in front of her 
to drop the item into their cart. She gasped. Afterwards, 
he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her. 
"Boy, this grocery shopping is great," he purred into her 
ear, and then continued, making her feel more and more 
hot and bothered with each word. "I hope you're not 
buying anything perishable, Scully, because the minute 
we get home, there's only one thing I want to put away... 
and that's me into you." He pressed his crotch up against 
her back and she could feel his stirrings of arousal. Ever 
since he had helped the FBI, and got back out into the 
world, he had become much friskier with her on an 
almost constant basis. Not that she was complaining...

"Oh, God," she groaned, her own arousal 
awakening within in response to his, and in the middle of 
the toy and magazine aisle at the grocery store, no less. 
"Mulder... let's... let's just finish shopping," she 
stammered, trying to regain her composure.

"Whatever you say, Doc," he agreed, smiling 
smugly. He then presented her with a tabloid magazine, 
its headline reading: THEY HAVE ARRIVED! ALIENS 
HAVE BEEN LIVING AMONG US FOR DECADES! 
"Let's get this, too," he suggested.

Scully sighed at the newspaper shoved under her 
nose, and she felt her amorous itch diminishing, just as 
her annoyance grew. Buying a sexy slide whistle was one 
thing- and did she just call a slide whistle sexy?- but this 
tabloid trash was entirely different. "Mulder, come on! 
You know all that stuff is made up."

"Is it?" he asked, looking at her incredulously. 

"Look at that headline, Scully. You know that to be true."

"Well," she began, but waited patiently as an 
elderly couple walked by to grab a crossword puzzle 
magazine, staring at Mulder as if he was a two-headed 
rattlesnake over his proclamation of the truth, "Mulder, 
this newspaper- if you could even call it that- certainly 
doesn't know it to be true." He rolled his eyes at her, but 
she continued, still trying to be diplomatic, so as not to 
hurt his feelings. "They're just making it all up to sell 
papers to poor schmucks like-"

"Like me?" he asked knowingly. He kissed her 
cheek, letting her know he understood she wasn't 
referring to him personally, and that he didn't take 
offense either way. "Scully, we knew the Lone Gunmen's 
paper was legit, but it had some pretty crazy stories, too. 
How do we know that... The Sun here isn't the same 
way?"

"It's just not," she informed him, snatching the 
paper from him, opening it up and perusing some of the 
articles she found inside. She spotted one right away that 
would prove her point. "There, you see? Look at this 
article. JACK NICHOLSON'S MISSING FATHER WAS 
AN APE! I mean, the guys never had crap like that in their 
magazine."

Mulder scratched his chin, as if mulling over her 
example. He said, "Hmm, Nicholson is part ape. Well, 
that would explain a lot."

She swatted him on the arm with the paper. 
"Mulder, you ass," she laughed in spite of herself.

He smiled and shrugged, taking it back from her. 

"I know it's just a shit mag, Scully, but that's why I want 
it."

"A shit mag?" she repeated in confusion.

"Yeah," he explained, grinning like a fox, "you 
read the shit while you're taking one."

"Ah, I see, a shit magazine," she chuckled, just as a 
woman walked by with two young children, who giggled 
shamelessly at what they'd overheard Scully say. The 
mother gave the good doctor a dirty look and Scully 
looked embarrassed and called, "Oh, sorry," after the 
family. She returned her attention to her amused partner. 
"Dammit, Mulder," she hissed at him.

"Shh, stop with that potty mouth, Scully, or you're 
going to get us banned from this nice establishment." He 
shook his head at her. "Just can't take you anywhere, can 
I?"

"What just happened was your fault," she told him 
in no uncertain terms. "You're going to get it, I swear," 
she muttered, irritation peering out through her stormy, 
blue eyes.

Mulder gazed at her with his hazel eyes, which 
were more of the bedroom persuasion. She always looked 
so damn sexy when she was angry, and he couldn't help 
his response. "Stop looking so hot, Doc, or I'll take you 
right here on the floor in front of the shit mags."

She didn't take the bait. Instead she rolled her eyes 
and countered, "And you're worried that my potty mouth 
will get us banned?"

"But check out this article, Scully," he said, his 
two-track mind switching from sex back to alien invasion 
in a snap. He opened the magazine to the article he'd been 
interested in. "Look at all the info. It's accurate! It has the 
proper dates, the colonization theory and..." he gasped 
out loud, solely for her benefit, she was sure, "look! It 
even mentions black oil!"

Another couple stared at Mulder as if he were 
insane as they walked by. They would have stared longer, 
but Scully's stern gaze sent them off in a hurry.

Mulder's eyes remained wide as he stared into her 
own. He wasn't sure what he'd discover in the blue 
depths, but he imagined he'd find annoyance, maybe 
amusement; possibly fear. What he found instead was a 
look of pure love and acceptance for who he was. His 
heart warmed at the realization.

"Just put it in the cart, Mulder," she indulged him.

He grinned as he did so. "I love you."

"I know." She smiled back at him.

"May I kiss you here in the grocery store now, 
please?"

"Most assuredly."

The two of them kissed tenderly. After a moment, 
they could hear the distinct sound of someone clearing his 
throat. They reluctantly pulled away from each other and 
Scully was immediately faced with Father Ybarra, one of 
the priests from Our Lady of Sorrows hospital where she 
worked. He was carrying one of those small, hand-held 
baskets, which was filled with boxes of cookies, bags of 
candy and a bottle of scotch.

"Dr. Scully," he said curtly, eyeing her and 
Mulder- who was smiling goofily while running his 
fingers through Scully's hair- with a look of pure 
disapproval.

Trying to inconspicuously swat Mulder's hand out 
of her hair, Scully gave the man a sheepish grin. "Hello, 
Father Ybarra," she said, politely but awkwardly. This 
priest- this holy man- had always given her an uneasy 
feeling, even though she had known him since she'd 
begun working at the hospital six years ago. In fact, 
unbeknownst to her, he had been the one to give the final 
go ahead to the hospital employment staff to hire her. "So, 
what brings you here?" she asked nervously, then 
immediately regretted her statement. She just knew he 
was going to say something snotty to her. Truly, Father 
Ybarra was the jerkiest priest she'd ever known.

"Why, grocery shopping, of course," he replied 
haughtily, just as she had predicted he would. He 
gestured to his small basket of items.

"Hmm, nutritious," Mulder commented, glancing 
into the priest's basket with an innocent expression. 
Apparently, his innocent demeanor fooled neither of his 
companions. Scully had to hide her smirk, while Father 
Ybarra gave him a stern look before returning his 
attention to Scully.

"Dr. Scully, what brings you here?" he asked 
pointedly, referring to the way he had found her, lip-
locking shamelessly in a public setting with this insolent 
man.

He was loath to admit it, but Ybarra, while trying 
to remain a good, Christian and a representative of the 
Catholic faith, was not overly fond of the good doctor 
standing before him. He realized that he himself had 
approved of her hiring- and how could he not have? Her 
credentials were impeccable. Plus, she never complained 
about wanting a raise, getting overtime, working on 
holidays or extra hours when needed. He would have 
been a fool not to hire this tireless, dedicated professional. 
But after she had gone against his orders and done the 
stem cell therapy on her young patient, Christian Fearon, 
a few months back, he had grown somewhat angry at her 
for disobeying not only him, but the will of the church 
and all it represented. The fact that she had saved the child 
and become something of a folk hero and role model to 
the rest of the doctors and staff at the hospital had not 
endeared her to the priest at all. It only made her seem 
more confident, more untouchable, as if anyone could 
truly be untouchable in the eyes of God! 

The truth was he found her to be a little too sure of 
herself, somewhat arrogant and rather rebellious. (Had 
Scully known of his description of her, surely she would 
have balked. Had Mulder known of Father Ybarra's 
description of his beloved, surely he would have laughed 
his ass off.)

"Why, we're grocery shopping, of course," Mulder 
answered his question, noticing how tense Scully seemed 
to be in this man's presence. That immediately set 
Mulder's hackles to rise. He didn't like how the priest was 
affecting her. He took an instant dislike to this snooty 
man of the cloth. He was a world of difference from 
Scully's old family priest, Father McCue. Even the 
psychic, pedophile, Father Joe Crissman, had been more 
pleasant to talk to than this guy.

"Oh, is that what you call it now a days?" Father 
Ybarra asked, giving each of them a disapproving glare, 
as if they were merely naughty teenagers looking to score, 
rather than an adult, mature couple in love.

"No, we call it making out," Mulder was happy to 
correct him, "which we've been doing in just about every 
aisle." He smiled as the priest blanched, looking 
embarrassed and somewhat disgusted.

Scully turned to her life partner, offering him a 
warning glance, before returning apologetic eyes back to 
Ybarra. "Eh, he's kidding..." she chuckled 
unconvincingly.

"And he would be...?" the father asked.

"Uh, this is my..." Scully struggled for the right 
words. What the hell should she call him? She felt 
ridiculous introducing him as her boyfriend. Life-partner 
sounded too politically correct, better half was too old 
fashioned. Soul mate was entirely too flowery to say to a 
work colleague. "This is... my... Mulder..." she finished 
incoherently.

The priest looked understandably confused.

Mulder took the initiative and thrust his hand out 
to Ybarra. "Hi, I'm Fox Mulder, Dana's fianc? and the 
luckiest man in the world!"

Her eyes growing wide, Scully stared at Mulder for 
a moment, before offering Father Ybarra a nervous smile.

The priest grasped Mulder's outstretched hand. He 
shook it, seemingly quite surprised and delighted in spite 
of himself. He was always happy to hear good tidings. 
Both Mulder and Scully noticed his change in demeanor 
right away. "Well, it is a pleasure to make your 
acquaintance, Mr. Mulder!" He looked at Scully, his eyes 
twinkling in merriment. He reached for her hand and 
gave it a friendly squeeze. "And Dr. Scully, I am so very 
happy for you! Why haven't you told anyone?"

"Well... it's sort of a recent development," she told 
him, smiling, giving Mulder a sidelong glance. "Very 
recent, in fact. I just found out myself."

"Ah, this is simply wonderful news, Dr. Scully," 
Father Ybarra continued to gush, much to her surprise. 
She had always gotten the impression that he didn't like 
her very much. "And I will gladly offer my services to 
marry the two of you."

"Oh... um..." Scully stammered.

Mulder helped her out yet again. "Why, thank you, 
Father. We just might take you up on that offer."

Scully gave him a look that said, "Not on your 
life!" He gave her one that told her he was just humoring 
the humorless priest.

"Well, I should be on my way," Ybarra said, still 
smiling. Scully couldn't help but stare. She had never seen 
this man offer so much as a smirk, let alone a full-blown 
smile before. "I will see you on Monday at the hospital, 
Dr. Scully. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Scully replied, smiling back at him, 
something else she wasn't accustomed to doing. She 
watched as the priest left the aisle, then turned to Mulder, 
who was already gazing at her and wearing a big grin. 
"Um, Mulder?" she asked.

"So, does that mean you're saying, yes?" he asked.

"You do realize that Father Ybarra has one of the 
biggest mouths at the hospital. This news is going to be all 
over before I even step foot into work on Monday."

"All the more reason for you to say yes, then," he 
told her, wrapping his arm around her.

"Are you... I mean, do you really want to?" she 
asked, somewhat shyly, barely daring to hope.

"I have for a long time, Scully," he admitted. "I 
told you about six years ago, remember? I'm sorry it's 
taken so long for me to ask you officially, but I suppose 
the big question is now, do you still want to?"

"Yes, I do," she replied matter of factly, her 
beautiful blue eyes taking on a happy glow that he was 
getting used to seeing lately, ever since after he had 
finished up his free-lance job with the Bureau and had 
taken her on vacation. "Hell of a way to propose though," 
she exclaimed, grinning.

"Oh, you know me, Scully," he chuckled. "I don't 
do anything in the traditional sense."

"No, you have your own way, that's for sure," she 
had to agree, taking his hand in hers.

"I could get down on one knee right now, if you 
prefer and-"

"No, that's quite all right," she laughed jubilantly. 
"Your way is wonderful. I wouldn't change a thing." She 
was smiling and looked radiant, her skin glowing in 
happiness, her eyes alight with love.

Unable to resist her, he pulled her close and kissed 
her again, this time very passionately and with an open 
mouth. Scully responded eagerly, wrapping her arms 
around his neck to keep him close, to drive her tongue 
down his throat.

When they finally came up for air, they found they 
had amassed an audience. Two teenage girls were staring 
and giggling, as they perused through the Teen Beat 
magazines, a middle-aged man, grabbing a box of crayons 
for his little one at home, kept glancing over at the heated 
exchange, and a stock boy- who was currently too 
distracted to know that he was stocking some silly putty 
where the matchbox cars should have gone- watched 
blatantly, occupied by the beautiful couple making out in 
the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday morning. 
He gave Mulder a thumbs up for snagging such a babe. 
Mulder whole-heartedly returned the gesture, looking 
very proud of himself indeed.

"Mulder, let's get out of here," Scully whispered, 
grabbing the cart and hurrying out of the aisle.

With a satisfied grin, Mulder nodded at their 
audience, barely restraining himself from high-fiving 
them all, and he dutifully followed after his beloved. "We 
done here now?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, still have to get the bread..."

"Why don't you get in line and I'll run and go get a 
fresh loaf?" he offered.

"Can I trust you'll come right back?" she asked 
with a smirk. "Or are you going to get distracted again?"

"No way. I wouldn't dare keep my beautiful 
fianc?e waiting," he told her, enjoying the sweet smile 
and pretty blush that crept up on her lovely face.

While being checked out, Scully said to him 
quietly, "We'll have to get rings..." She glanced shyly into 
his face and seemed pleased to find him smiling.

"Got yours covered, Scully," he promised. "I have 
my grandmother's ring. It's packed away safe, but I know 
where it is and I'll find it later. It'll probably have to be 
sized for you, but I'd like you to wear it... I mean, if that's 
all right."

"I'd be honored, Mulder, really," she whispered, 
trying not to let the sentimental tears fall in front of the 
bored cashier or the youthful bag boy.

He leaned down to kiss her again, as she retrieved 
her debit card from her wallet and paid for their items. 
Then they loaded up the cart with their bagged groceries, 
and headed for the parking lot.

Before leaving the store, they both grabbed their 
jackets and slipped them on. Though it was now 
springtime and all of the snow was melted away, and the 
flowers were beginning to bloom, there was still a biting 
chill in the air, especially in the mornings and evenings.

"I'll need to call Mom and my brothers... and 
Monica and John and Skinner... and Ellen, too! Hmm, will 
Skinner be your best man?" she asked.

"Yeah, he'd be perfect for the job," Mulder agreed. 
"What about you, honey? Who's going to be your best 
woman- er, maid of honor? One of your sisters, or Ellen, 
or Monica?" 

"Tara and Jenny wouldn't mind being bride's 
maids. That's all I was in their weddings, but jeez, Monica 
or Ellen? Ellen was my best friend all growing up, but 
Monica became my good friend while you were gone, 
and... both of them mean a lot to me. I'm not sure who to 
choose."

"Why not ask them both to be co-maids of honor, 
or whatever?" he suggested. "That way, you don't have to 
choose between them."

"What an excellent idea," she complimented him, 
and he beamed. "You seem to be just teeming with them 
this morning." She gazed lovingly at him, which caused 
him to nearly glow.

He just had to make a joke, he couldn't help it. It 
was his way, and she understood that, understood him 
perfectly. "Yeah, I saw that you really wanted that slide 
whistle, too. It should definitely come in handy."

"Oh, yeah, sure, Mulder," she sniggered.

"You know what you could do? You can sneak up 
behind Father Ybarra on Monday morning at work and 
scare the shit out of him."

"Mulder! He's a priest!"

"So? Priests still shi-"

"Mulder!"

"All right, all right..." He paused as they made 
their way to the row where their car awaited them. "You 
do realize that I'm still going to jump your bones right 
there on the floor in the living room the second we get 
home, don't you?"

"I was counting on it," she said with a sly grin that 
made his mouth water. "Ooh, it'll be my first time with my 
fianc?." She winked at him.

"You may be my new fianc?e, Scully," he told her, 
his eyes flooded with tenderness, "but you've always been 
Mrs. Spooky to me."

"Mulder," she purred and they stopped for 
another quick kiss until an impatient motorist honked his 
horn at them to get out of his way, and they rushed across 
the parking lot, where they finally made it to their own 
car.

"Scully, open the trunk and I'll load the groceries 
for you," he said sweetly.

She fished through her pockets then said, "Mulder, 
you drove, remember? You should have the keys."

With a nod, he felt through his jacket pockets first. 
"Hey!" he said brightly.

"Find them?"

"No, but look, I found the grocery list!" He looked 
it over. "Oh, you forgot a few things, Scully."

"Give me that!" she snapped, yanking the list from 
his fingers. "Damn..." she murmured. He hadn't been 
kidding. She had forgotten several important items.

"And here are the keys," he announced, finding 
them in his pants pocket. He opened the trunk and started 
loading the groceries in. "I tell you, this was a productive 
trip."

"But Mulder, what about our lunch? I bought the 
bread for the sandwiches, but none of the stuff that's 
supposed to go into them."

He shrugged. "So? We'll have soup. No harm, no 
foul. Besides, I got something even better than 
sandwiches."

Scully shook her head at him, chuckling good-
naturedly. "What, Mulder? The slide whistle or the shit 
magazine?"

"No, a fianc?e," he told her, laughing, his face 
looking as boyish and happy as she'd ever seen it. 
"Tucked away between the slide whistles and the shit 
magazines. See? You just never know what good things 
you'll find at the grocery store, I guess."

Her eyebrow raised, Scully favored him with the 
look that always set his heart beating faster. "Just finish 
loading the groceries, Mulder, and take me home."

"Hungry, are you?" he asked, carefully setting a 
bag holding glass jars into the trunk.

"Hungry for you," she advised him, getting into the 
passenger seat.

"Day-um!" he exclaimed and shoved the rest of the 
bags into the trunk. He jumped in behind the wheel, 
revved the engine, while Scully primly buckled herself in, 
and then peeled out of the parking lot.

"Oh, and by the way, Mulder," Scully added, as 
they headed down the two lane highway in the direction 
of their house, "as cute as you were back there, it's still 
not going to excuse you from having to go to the grocery 
store again. You know that, right?"

"Scully," he said, reaching for her hand, "darling, 
you wound me! I love that store. It's where I proposed to 
my wife."

She smiled at him. "Aw, Mulder. I love you and 
I'm sorry for doubting you."

"I love you and you're quite forgiven." He gave her 
hand a squeeze.

"Uh, Mulder? You're still going to have to go once 
in awhile..."

"Damn," he grumbled, then turned to see her 
radiant, smiling face and they laughed together as they 
headed home.

The End
08/02/10

Did you guess the episodes that each scene follows? If not, here is 
the list!

-Scene One: "The Mall Has it All" takes place after Pilot (season 1).
-Scene Two: "Poker and the Pox" takes place after Darkness Falls 
(season 1).
-Scene Three: "The Ugliest Sweater in the History of Ugly Sweaters" 
takes place after One Breath (season 2).
-Scene Four: "Dana's Delectables" takes place after Our Town (season 
2).
-Scene Five: "Monsters, Denny's and Gas-X" takes place after 2Shy 
(season 3).
-Scene Six: "Love Sick" takes place after Pusher (season 3).
-Scene Seven: "The Nose Knows" takes place after Sanguinarium 
(season 4).
-Scene Eight: "50/50: Snickers, Sniping and Sex" takes place after 
Never Again (season 4).
-Scene Nine: "Honey, You're Home!" takes place after Redux II 
(season 5).
-Scene Ten: "Rusty, Ripley and Jack" takes place after Chinga (season 
5).
-Scene Eleven: "My Scully-sense is Tingling" takes place after The X-
Files: Fight the Future (first movie).
-Scene Twelve: "Christmas Traditions: Mistletoe and Mayhem" takes 
place after The Ghosts Who Stole Christmas (season 6).
-Scene Thirteen: "When Mulder Met Scully... And Pissed Her Off" takes 
place after Field Trip 
(season 6).
-Scene Fourteen: "Coming Clean" takes place after Orison (season 7).
-Scene Fifteen: "I Got Chills! They're Multiplying..." takes place after 
Chimera (season 7).
-Scene Sixteen: "Tears on my Pillow...case" takes place after Three 
Words (season 8).
-Scene Seventeen: "Mulder in Scullyland" takes place after Existence 
(season 8).
-Scene Eighteen: "Tea for... Three?" takes place after Trust No1 
(season 9).
-Scene Nineteen: "Best. Porch. Ever!" takes place after The Truth 
(season 9).
Scene Twenty: "You Never Know What You'll Find at the Grocery Store!" 
takes place after The X-Files: I Want to Believe (second movie).