Risking Everything
By: Cathleen Faye / Kimerikal@aol.com

Genre:  MSR and angst along with big helping of smut.
Rating:  NC-17 for sexual content and language.
Summary:  During the events of Pine Bluff Variant, we find that 
Mulder has risked his relationship with Scully for his assignment 
and as things begin to go bad he fears that he's fast running out 
of time to set it right again.  But Scully has more faith in him 
than he realizes.  This is an expansion on the events of Pine 
Bluff Variant, an XF episode with more layers (IMO) than it's 
given credit for--The title is taken from Mulder's line in the 
episode.  This revision came about as I was having Mulder
withdrawals and I'd just rewatched PBV for the first time in
a very long time.  <g>.
_______________________________________________


Thursday, April 30th
2:30 a.m.
Mulder's Apartment


Mulder came awake with a start and the extraordinary dream he'd 
been having vanished instantly from his conscious mind.  Normally 
a back sleeper because of the confines of his couch, he found 
himself curled up on his stomach in his bed.  He raised his head 
slightly and looked across the wide expanse of his bed, realizing 
that he was alone.  Not that this circumstance was ever unusual 
in the least and the fact that he was now wasn't entirely 
unexpected.  

But as he took in the rumpled and twisted condition of the 
sheets, the slight intoxicating scent lingering on both them and 
his own body softly reminded him that he'd shared this bed 
recently.  

He laid his head back down as he closed his eyes again, breathing 
deep and peacefully reliving the delicate memory.  Long serene 
moments passed as he drifted in and out until ugly reality began 
to intrude, pushing the last of the foggy sleep from his head.  
Mulder opened his eyes again and turned his head to glance at the 
nightstand clock.  Shit, he had to get his ass moving quickly; it 
was after 2:30 in the morning and he was supposed to meet Skinner 
and US Attorney Leamus in about a half-hour.  He had vitally 
important information to impart about Jacob Haley, August Bremer, 
and the New Spartan's plans.  

He pushed himself up off the mattress, instantly regretting the 
thoughtless motion as the razor-sharp pain stabbed into his left 
hand and slammed up his arm in spite of the splint.  Cursing 
softly and shifting his weight, he cradled the injured hand in 
his other as he stared at his splinted fingers a moment.  Jesus, 
how could anything so small hurt so damn much, he wondered 
feeling for a moment like a big baby.  The mild painkiller he'd 
taken a few hours before had worn off but now that he was no 
longer pressing directly on the break, the throbbing pain slowly 
settled back into a low-level ache that was manageable.  He would 
just need another couple of double-strength Ibuprofen to keep the 
pain at bay so he could get on with what had to be done.  

He sat up in bed, absently rubbing his wrists where the 
restraints his inquisitors used on him had left the flesh deeply 
bruised.  He stretched out his arms to loosen the muscles in his 
shoulders that now ached again from having pulled against the 
restraining straps.  He also felt a dull pain from where he'd 
head-butted that bald son of a bitch, but he took a mild 
satisfaction at that particular ache.

Earlier this night, her touch had soothed his hurt away and even 
now the memory of it came back so clear.  Mulder turned his eyes 
back to the empty side of his bed as he remembered the look of 
her skin in the pale moonlight.  He could picture it in his mind 
and recall the feel of it under both his fingers and tongue.  In 
spite of his various aches and pains, there was a new and curious 
calmness in his heart and he smiled, feeling somewhat foolish 
even as he did so.  

Last night had been inevitable--he'd known that from almost the 
very beginning, as he suspected she did.  Really, in all honesty, 
the only variable had been the When, not the If.  But what would 
be the cost and had they created more problems? Big fat scary 
emotional risky problems.  The kind of risk that they'd spent the 
last five spent years avoiding for very different reasons and yet 
which boiled down to the same explanation.  Fear.  

Mulder wasn't surprised that he woke up alone and knew that she'd 
probably even left within minutes after he'd fallen asleep.  He 
knew that she was probably at home right at this moment, lying 
awake and wondering if she should try to explain it all away 
rationally when they next saw each other again.  

If they saw each other again, he reminded himself.    

Mulder's mind turned to the immediate problems that he needed to 
deal with, his mood darkening as he moved his full focus back to 
them.  Yesterday on the phone and then later, during his 
interrogation, he'd told Haley that he was risking everything.  
But it was only just now that he realized what risking everything 
really meant for him.  

He got up and began to prepare for his clandestine meeting with 
Skinner and Leamus where he'd report what he'd learned during his 
interrogation at the New Spartan's compound and then try to 
formulate some plan to stop them.     

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Previous day - Wednesday, April 29th
5 a.m.  
New Spartan Compound


At first, the torture applied by Haley's associate hadn't caused 
Mulder to cower as they'd hoped--quite the opposite in fact.  
Instead, the driving pain had released a dark rage that surged 
through his body.  He pulled violently against the restraints and 
the only thing he wanted out of life at that moment was to kill 
the Nazi bastard who smiled with such smug satisfaction at having 
caused his pain, knowing that Mulder had no escape.  

As it went on, Mulder was finding it hard to concentrate and he 
fought down the rising panic knowing that keeping his head was 
the only thing that would keep him alive.  By hanging on to his 
wits, he finally managed to toss out the bone that ultimately 
saved his life; the idea that Haley had a mole in his own group.  

Mulder saw the quicksilver change in Haley's eyes and knew that 
he'd become useful again.  Haley thought he could help him find 
the mole, someone that Mulder had the feeling that Haley already 
suspected.  But even so, Haley still nodded to the man who had 
the iron grip on Mulder's hand to finish the job.  

The sickening snap of the stressed bone when it finally gave way 
to the relentless pressure had seemed as loud as a gunshot in 
Mulder's ears and mercifully, he passed out for just a few 
moments as the heat flush wave of pain shot through him.  When he 
came to again, he was alone but still tethered to the table.  It 
took him a few seconds to regroup and refocus.  

When they noticed that he'd come around, Haley returned to the 
table and continued to question him at length and in detail about 
the Federal Reserve schedules, which Mulder truthfully had little 
knowledge of but indicated he could find out about.  But it was 
soon apparent that Haley was far more interested in was whatever 
FBI surveillance records that he could get on August Bremer, the 
man he was hoping to replace as leader of the New Spartans.  The 
interrogation went on most of the day, it became a pattern; they 
would question him, leave him alone for a while come back and the 
questioning would begin again.  The same questions over and over.  

As it went on, Mulder realized this wasn't just another militia 
gathering illegal arms.  These people had a weapon far more 
lethal than any gun cache, a weapon of mass destruction that 
could control by the fear of it alone.  And worse, they were 
fucking insane enough to actually use it.  

His first thought, long ingrained by habit, was that he needed to 
get word to Scully somehow the second he got the hell out of 
here.  It actually took him a moment to remember that he couldn't 
call her, even if he had the opportunity.  

He couldn't call Scully.  Jesus Christ.  He couldn't call Scully.  


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Wednesday, April 29th
9 a.m.
Dulles Airport, Washington DC



At the same time that Mulder was being interrogated at the New 
Spartan compound, Scully had boarded an early morning flight to 
Ohio, traveling with A.D. Skinner.  It was a fairly short flight, 
just a couple of hours, but it seemed endless.  She'd had no 
sleep and it seemed so strange to be working or traveling with 
anyone other than her partner.  She respected Skinner, she 
trusted him as much as she trusted someone who wasn't Mulder.  

But he wasn't Mulder and that was the problem.  

Scully sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes as she tried to 
concentrate on the file in her lap.  She was relieved that 
Skinner had finally chosen to tell her the truth.  Of course, 
she'd given him little choice by her actions.  Now she now knew 
that Mulder was on a deep cover assignment.  One that he hadn't 
sought out or chosen for himself, but one that she knew he'd see 
through to its end.  She now knew that Leamus had used her 
perpetrate the deception to outsiders, to make the lie more 
believable.  She'd taken an instant dislike to Leamus the minute 
she and Mulder had been asked to join the task force that she now 
knew to be bogus, now she knew that instinct had a basis in 
reason.  

More importantly though, she finally understood why Mulder hadn't 
been able to look her in the eyes when he'd always been able to 
do so with such disconcerting ease, no matter how difficult and 
painful the truth that he needed to tell her was.  But sometimes 
knowledge is a terrible thing, and now she was even more 
apprehensive than she'd been yesterday when she'd merely had dark 
suspicions that she refused to believe in.  In many ways, the 
truth was worse.    

Her initial anger at both Mulder and Skinner for leaving her in 
the dark had passed.  Skinner had his orders from higher up and 
in turn, he'd told her that he'd "advised" Mulder not to tell 
her.  In Skinner-Speak, that was the same thing as a direct 
order.  Not that Mulder had ever been overly concerned with 
obeying direct orders, but God help her, she knew how his mind 
worked and she knew that he didn't tell her because he was 
protecting her reputation and her career in case it all went bad.  
And at this point, it looked like there was every possibility 
that this would all go very bad.  Something just wasn't right 
about all of this.  She couldn't place any hard evidence to her 
feelings--they were simply there and she believed them to be 
true.  Just as deep in her heart she'd known that what had seemed 
to be the truth about Mulder couldn't possibly be right and that 
she couldn't possibly have been so wrong about him.   

She smiled a little, knowing that Mulder would be amused to 
discover that she was placing so much validation in her 
instincts.  She didn't often share these feelings with him, after 
all, she was the rational one.  Although, over the course of last 
year, Mulder seemed to be questioning many of his long-held 
beliefs, just as she was beginning to grasp on to some of them 
for herself.  It was as though they'd blended and come out 
separate again on the other side, yet another twist in their 
already convoluted and ever-changing lives.  The only constant 
was their mutually tacit feelings for the other.  

Scully gazed out the window at the clouds.  Ohio was only a 
couple hours flight time away from DC and they would return that 
afternoon, but she didn't like being so far from Mulder at this 
critical time.  God, she thought suddenly, he didn't even know 
that she knew the truth now.    

The chimes sounded, telling her that the plane was getting ready 
to land.  She had to shake off her concerns and concentrate on 
the matters before her.  Right now, she knew the best way she 
could help Mulder was to solve the mystery of this bio-toxin and 
how it was transmitted.  Tonight she would see Mulder.  Tonight 
she would tell him that he wasn't alone in this anymore.  

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Wednesday, April 29th
4 p.m.
New Spartan Compound



Mulder realized hours ago that these bastards did not intend to 
kill him.  At least not while there was the slightest possibility 
that he might be able to help them accomplish their goals.  But 
that wasn't going to stop them from fucking with him.  He knew 
part of that game was screwing with his head, keeping him off 
balance, and trying to trip him up.  He couldn't see his watch 
because the leather restraining strap covered it, but the light 
filtering into the building indicated it was afternoon.   

Finally, their interrogations seemed to be over, their questions 
answered and his allegiance to them seemingly secured in their 
minds.  For now.  Haley came over the table and ordered one of 
the men to release him.  He told Mulder to return to the hotel 
tomorrow with the information.  With that, the hood went back 
over his head then he was driven back to the hotel and dumped 
off.  

At his first opportunity, when he was as certain as he could be 
that he wasn't being followed or watched, he called Skinner.  
Instead of his boss, he got his assistant where he found out that 
the A.D. and Scully had been summoned out of town on an emergency 
that morning and were not expected back until late that 
afternoon.  Shit, he couldn't call Skinner's cell phone directly 
because if Scully was with him, he wouldn't be able to talk.  
During the course of this investigation, he'd arranged to meet 
privately with Skinner and Leamus by leaving a seemingly 
innocuous message that only Skinner knew how to translate into 
the proper time and place.  So all Mulder could do is leave a 
message that would arrange a 3am meeting that night.  

Exhausted and in pain, Mulder then drove the 120 miles from 
Angola, Delaware back to his apartment in Alexandria.  His hand 
throbbed unmercifully and he tried to keep it elevated as best he 
could as he drove.  He seriously considered stopping at Scully's 
for help, but she might not be back yet and more importantly, he 
wouldn't be able to explain how he'd received the injury without 
causing even more problems between them.  Scully was a lot of 
things, but stupid had never been on the list.  With all that she 
suspected already, there was no way she'd buy into any lame-ass 
excuse he could come up with.

Of course, his behavior was doing exactly what it had been 
intended to do--make Scully believe in the possibility that he 
could be dirty and that his long-simmering and hardly secret 
distrust of the government for which he worked had made him 
vulnerable to treason.  And it was working; during the last week 
in the few moments that he'd even been able to meet her eyes, 
he'd seen such disquiet, such questioning.  He could see the 
betrayal in her face and it quietly sliced into his heart.

He'd done his job well.

The charade was absolutely necessary; it was necessary for his 
safety, for her safety and for the success of assignment.  
Skinner had been right about insisting that only he and Leamus 
know he was deep undercover.  If things went bad, they would deny 
all knowledge of the whole matter.  They would continue the lie 
and to the world, it would all just appear that Spooky Mulder had 
finally completely lived up to his reputation.  He was betting 
his life on pulling this off, but if he didn't, he wasn't about 
to drag his partner down too; he would do what he could to assure 
that Scully wouldn't be tainted by his fall from grace.  

But God, lying to Scully was just about the hardest thing he'd 
ever had to do.  It turned out to be even harder than he'd 
thought because, Goddamn it, he cared what she thought of him.  

For many years, Mulder hadn't given a damn about much except his 
own personal quest.  He believed what he believed and he didn't 
give a shit what anyone thought of him, his methods, or his 
convictions.  If the rest of the conventional world thought him 
Spooky, he didn't care.  He'd gotten the dirty jobs done and the 
cases solved, even if the price he paid was that he lost a little 
more of his soul with each one.  

When Scully had first joined him years ago, he'd fought the idea 
of her.  The story he'd told himself was that he'd done just fine 
without her, didn't need her, and certainly didn't care what she 
thought.  But much to his own consternation as his respect, and 
then his love, for her grew he also discovered that he cared 
deeply what she thought of him.  His solitary days were over in 
that he'd found a true companion and equal in his journey.  He'd 
quietly sought her respect, her affection, and her belief even.

And he knew that he had two of the three.    

But now here he was, risking the only relationship in his life 
that he gave a damn about for this assignment.  He was 
systemically and deliberately crushing all that he'd gained 
during their years together; killing all the trust she'd given 
him--all the trust that he'd earned.  Even if he succeeded, he 
didn't know if he'd ever be able to fully repair the damage 
between them.  

But even harder to look at was the knowledge that if he failed, 
he would die knowing that Scully would believe for the rest of 
her life that she'd placed her trust in the wrong man.  


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


Wednesday, April 29th
5:30 p.m.
Dulles Airport, Washington D.C.


Scully closed her eyes as the plane descended into Dulles 
airport.  However, when she did so, she again saw the horror in 
that small movie theatre in Gables Corner, Ohio so she opened 
them.  She glanced over at Skinner and saw that he was staring 
resolutely out the window, no doubt that his thoughts were 
walking the same path as hers.  

Upon reaching Gables Corner, they'd conferred with the local 
HazMat team where they were given the all clear to enter the 
theatre.  As they'd wandered the aisles, she felt sickened in her 
heart as she looked at the hideous remains of human beings.  
Scully had long since become inured to sight and smells of the 
dead, but something about this particular setting was very 
disturbing to her, more so than usual.  There was a difference 
between examining a body on a cold and clinical table in a lab 
and seeing these people, quite literally cut down where they'd 
sat in such an ordinary and mundane setting.  These people had 
simply gone to the movies as people did on any given night in 
Middle America.  

They'd once had loved ones, hopes and dreams.  Probably nothing 
big, nothing dramatic and yet they'd become pawns in an evil 
game.  A group of strangers decided that they were expendable and 
had taken their lives without a second thought or backward 
glance.  But not only had they crushed the lives of the people 
here in this theatre, but they'd also stolen some of the soul 
from each of the people who'd loved these victims.  The lives of 
these fourteen people touched dozens of others and all would be 
affected by this grisly act.  

God, these bastards were capable of anything.  There was nothing 
left of human compassion among them if they could do this.  Her 
heart constricted as she thought of Mulder in the middle of this 
depravity.  He was moving among men who could kill like this 
without warning, without reason.  Men who saw only their own 
twisted cause and viewed all others as merely expendable 
obstacles to their goals.  

She'd looked up to find Skinner staring at the bodies with the 
same look of horror that she knew she wore.  Feeling her gaze he 
looked up and met her eyes.  He nodded just slightly and she knew 
the same thoughts were passing through his mind.  The 
responsibility of stopping this evil lay at their feet.  Please 
God help them all be up to the task.  

As Scully had wandered the rows looking at each decomposing body, 
she was reminded again how fragile her own existence was and how 
it could turn on a heartbeat.  She thought about how every person 
here had probably been, at their essence, little different from 
herself and she couldn't help but wonder how many of them died 
with words left unsaid or actions not taken.  No second chances 
here.  It had happened to them without warning; just as it could 
happen to her and Mulder.  

Scully's thoughts returned to the present as the plane made a 
smooth landing just as darkness began to fall on the nation's 
capital and she felt a welcome warmth wash over her.  

Tonight she would see Mulder again.  

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


Wednesday, April 29th
7 p.m.
Mulder's Apartment



When Mulder finally reached home, he was exhausted.  But as he 
entered his apartment, he was nearly startled into a heart attack 
when he suddenly heard Scully's voice in the darkness.

He turned and saw the one person he wanted to see the most and 
the least in the world as she stepped forward into the soft light 
coming from the street lamp outside.  He kept up his belligerent 
defense until it became apparent that Scully knew everything.  
God bless him, Skinner had told her, although he wasn't sure if 
he should be grateful to or angry with the A.D.  But even so, 
Mulder felt such a flood of relief that he felt almost weak with 
it although he covered it as best he could.  

When she saw his hand, Scully went into her full Doctor Mode, 
sitting him on the couch and getting an ice pack for his 
shattered finger.  She sat down on the coffee table opposite him 
as he told her about what had happened to him and all that he 
knew so far about Haley and the man called August Bremer.  
Tomorrow he would know what more the Spartans wanted from him, 
but for right now all he could do was wait for their next move.  
Scully listened intently and told him all about Ohio, about the 
horrors she had seen there, and about what these men were capable 
of.  It had been a dark and emotional day for both of them it 
seemed.  

But even so, he felt strangely elated as he felt Scully's gentle 
hand under his, supporting it as she held the ice in place with 
the other.  She was back at his side.  The last week had been one 
of the most miserable in his life and from the look on her face, 
he suspected that it had been that way for her too.  God, he'd 
missed her more than he thought possible and amazingly, she 
didn't even seem terribly pissed off that he hadn't told her the 
whole story.  He wondered what had driven the A.D. to finally 
tell her himself after practically ordering him not to.     

"Did you finally go to Skinner with your doubts about me--is that 
how you found out?" he asked finally after a few moments of 
silence between them.  

Scully looked up, a little hurt for a brief moment by his 
assumption that she might have done such a thing.  But she saw no 
accusation in Mulder's eyes, just curiosity and the feeling faded 
quickly.  She had to admit it was a fair question, just as he'd 
given her good reason to be suspicious, she given him every 
reason to think she might have gone to Skinner with her 
suspicions.  They'd each played their roles well and apparently 
he thought that she'd assume the worst about him simply because 
virtually everyone else in his life always had.   

God, people were so wrong about him.  The ones who called him 
egocentric, arrogant, and selfish.  Yes, he could be those 
things.  But that was just the top layer and a very thin layer at 
that, used mostly to deflect.  She knew that if he was branded a 
traitor, there'd be plenty of people at the FBI who would nod 
their heads oh-so-knowingly and profess that they always "knew" 
something was up with Spooky Mulder.  


But they didn't know shit; they had no idea of his heart, they 
had no idea what she knew.  When she lay dying in the hospital 
before her cancer went into remission, she'd offered him the 
chance to save his own life.  An egocentric, arrogant, and 
selfish man would have jumped at the easy way out that she 
offered--any one of those bastards who denigrated him that would 
have jumped at it.  But not Mulder.  He'd been dismayed that 
she'd even asked him to consider it.  He'd do anything to protect 
her; he'd done so in the past and he's done so again here, even 
though it meant lowering himself in her estimation.    

She shook her head slightly in response to his question.  "No, I 
didn't go to Skinner.  When you didn't give me the answers I 
asked for, I followed you to that motel in Angola.  I was on the 
road behind you when I was cut off and hauled back in to the U.S. 
Attorney's office.  That's when Skinner and Leamus told me how 
Haley's group had approached you, how you were undercover, 
everything.  Scully smiled a little and shrugged, "I guess they 
figured it would be the path of least resistance."   

Mulder couldn't help but smile a bit in return as he nodded.  He 
should have known that she'd get at the truth one way or another 
he thought with both pride and relief.  Dana Scully didn't take 
any shit from anyone, least of all him.  But the smile faded as 
quickly as it arrived  "I wanted to tell you, Scully," he said 
softly, his tone apologetic.  "But I couldn't."  

Scully nodded her acceptance and understanding of his confession.  
But Mulder needed her to know it all.  "I hated what I saw in 
your eyes when you looked at me.  I hated that you thought I 
would have fallen in with those bastards--what you believed about 
me."    

Looking at his despondent expression, Scully saw that he was 
seeking reassurance that she'd truly understood the lie and that 
it had hurt him to tell it.  Strangely touched, she looked down 
and busied herself with fussing with the ice pack for a few 
moments before she could respond.  

"Mulder, the only thing I believed for certain was that something 
was wrong between us."  She looked up at him and tightened her 
fingers on his good hand briefly and he responded.  "I guess...I 
just had hope in a different truth than the one my eyes were 
seeing.  I guess, I just didn't believe what I saw."  She smiled 
a little then tilted her head and arched her brown, thinking a 
bit of humor might remove that sad look in his eyes.  "I'd 
certainly think you'd be used to that  by now, Mulder."  

She watched as he smiled a little because he was expected to, but 
then moved his gaze away to some unseen spot on the floor.  He 
sat quietly, seeming to be concentrating on something going on in 
his head and he looked both tired and discouraged.  

"Mulder, what is it?" she asked softly.  "Tell me."  

It was a while until he answered.  "What if I can't pull this 
charade off?"  he said finally.  "God, what if I fail?"  

"We are not going to fail."   

He heard the plural in her words, spoken softly but with such 
conviction, and looked back up to her.  Her expression was so 
very different from just yesterday when he'd looked in her eyes 
only to see distrust and wariness.  When he'd felt as alone as he 
ever had in the world.  Now it was back to "we."  Thank God.  At 
her words, Mulder felt a humble emotional relief wash over him, 
even as he faced new apprehensions.  She believed him, but now 
that meant that she was in just as deep as he was.  And if he 
screwed this up, he wasn't the only one who was going to go down 
anymore.  

He shook his head slowly with a resigned sigh as he looked back 
at her.  "I don't know how you can say that, Scully.  To get what 
they want these bastards are ready to launch a mass slaughter 
without a second thought.  They have the chemicals, they have the 
knowledge, they have their underground network, and most of all, 
they have the absolute willingness to kill without remorse.  How 
can we hope to stop them?  I don't know that I have any hope left 
that we can," he said tiredly.  

"Oh, bullshit, Mulder," she admonished him with mild 
exasperation.  "Your whole life is about hope.  Oh, you cover it 
up with cynicism or black humor, but you can't make it leave you 
alone.  It just keeps following you around like a puppy."  

Surprised at her response, Mulder just looked at her with a 
questioning expression.  "Oh, really?"   

She smiled now with gentle affection.  "Really.  Look, I agree 
that the situation all looks pretty crappy right now, but you and 
I both know that people without hope don't survive because the 
soul dies and then the body follows one way or another.  We've 
seen that."  Scully leaned towards him a little, her lips near to 
his as though sharing a secret.  "And your soul is most 
definitely still alive, Mulder," she whispered with quiet 
assurance.  "So the odds suck--that's when we do best and you 
know it."

Both her words and her nearness shook him as he looked into her 
eyes.  Even after all their years together, Scully still just 
surprised the hell out him sometimes with her dead-on intuition 
about what was going on in his head.  Like the time that he'd 
given her the seemingly dumb birthday gift of the Apollo key 
chain.  She'd understood his heart's intent so clearly that it'd 
scared the hell out of him and he'd covered up his emotion with a 
smart-ass response.  Now she'd just done the same thing again 
and, feeling as unnerved as before, custom almost demanded that 
he respond in the same way.  

"Wow, you're good," he said as she gave a small laugh.  "When the 
hell did you become such a philosopher?" he asked lightly, hoping 
to hide how deeply affected he was, both physically and 
emotionally, by her pull when she was so close to him as she was 
now.  And he wondered if it was even really necessary for him to 
try to hide it anymore.  After all, who the hell did he think he 
was fooling?  Certainly not her.  And he'd long ago stopped lying 
to himself about his feelings.  

Scully had felt him shiver slightly.  Yes, it could have been the 
ice pack, but she really knew that her proximity made him 
suddenly nervous and something deep in her woman's heart liked 
that.  "It happened when I walked into that basement five years 
ago," she responded.  Suddenly she gave a small nervous laugh of 
her own as some of Mulder's physical intensity worked its way 
back to her even as his eyes drew her in close.  She sat back a 
little.  "It wasn't in my nature to question such things before 
then.  Now it seems that now all I do is question such things."  

Breaking contact with his gaze, she lifted the ice pack from his 
hand and looked down at his open palm, distressed by what she 
saw.  "God Mulder, this should have been iced and looked at hours 
ago."  

He shrugged a little.  "Well I wasn't exactly somewhere I could 
demand room service," he said with some irony.  "They weren't of 
a mind to be accommodating."  She looked up at him quickly and 
then away but not before he saw that her eyes full of concern 
again at this dangerous game he was assigned to.  He wished that 
he could put her mind at ease about this whole matter, but 
anything he said to make it seem less dangerous would be a lie 
and he was done with that.  There was nothing to say to make it 
better.  

For her part, Scully hated being forced into being passive while 
playing a waiting game.  This assignment was making her crazy 
because while putting their lives on the line was nothing new for 
either one of them, in spite of her brave words, Scully had a 
deep foreboding about this duty.  And that feeling made her 
crazy.  She was supposed to be the rational one in this 
relationship...this partnership.  And it was true that even after 
five years together, she still felt as though she had to prove 
herself.  To only let him see her as strong; as ruled by logic 
and not by women's intuition.  

Only she wasn't feeling either strong or logical right now, her 
intuition spoke only of a foreboding danger to Mulder, and she 
felt the need to protect him.

Mulder had almost always treated her as an equal, more so than 
anyone she'd ever worked with.  His male instinct to protect 
still bubbled up but it was just as true that she had to own up 
to more than a few nurturing and maternal instincts towards him.  
She supposed it would always be so between men and women, no 
matter how equal they were, no matter how capable, they wanted to 
take care of each other.  And more often than not, she watched 
over him just as he watched over her.   

Those bastards had hurt Mulder and that made her outrageously 
angry.  She knew that they'd kill him without a second thought 
the moment they thought his usefulness to them was over.  But the 
bitter reality was that both sides in this dark contest viewed 
Mulder as expendable.  It was clear that U.S. Attorney Leamus, 
the weasel running this show, didn't give a rat's ass about her 
partner as long as he got the information he wanted.  No one gave 
a shit about Mulder except her and she could do little to protect 
him now.  This whole assignment was spinning out of their grasp 
and control and no, in spite of her brave speech, she wasn't 
feeling in the least strong or logical right at this moment.  

Sighing slightly in frustration, Scully gently turned his cradled 
hand over so that now his large palm rested on top of her smaller 
supporting one as she applied the ice pack to the backside for a 
bit.  As she held his hand, she felt his thumb curl over her 
wrist and caress gently, the movement sending a chill having 
nothing to do with the ice. 

Oh God.  How could his simple touch do such things to her?  Did 
he feel the small jump in her pulse even as her own fingers 
responded?  She looked at his bowed head, his eyes seemingly 
fixated on their clasped hands as the familiar, softly dark and 
intimate urgency settled between them, waiting, as it so often 
did, for fulfillment or response.

"How's the pain?" she asked softly.  

Mulder raised his eyes slowly to hers, he'd felt her blood 
quicken under his touch.  He leaned closer into her space.  "I'm 
fine."  

Familiar words delivered with just a hint of smile at the corners 
of his beautiful eyes.  She arched one brow slightly.  "Liar."  

Mulder now gave a small grin, but didn't contradict her.  "Now 
did I ever say that to you, Scully?" he said in soft, mock-
wounded tone.

He was making her nervous, not bad nervous, but that sweetly 
delicious, nervous anticipation.  She shifted her gaze from his 
hazel eyes to the wonderful small mole on his unshaven cheek, and 
then to his unique mouth.  God, how many times over their years 
together had she considered what that mouth would feel like upon 
her skin.  She drew deep breath, feeling both lulled and lured.  
"No, you didn't--but you probably should have,"  she finally 
answered as she reached for his other hand, taking it hers.  
Holding it longer than necessary, she placed it over the ice bag.  
"Hold this in place a moment, I'll be right back."  

She slipped her hand from his as she rose from her seat and 
headed off towards his bathroom, stopping only to shed her long 
coat as Mulder watched her go.  He stared after her for some 
time, feeling some confusion over his jagged emotions.

He closed his eyes as he thought about her last words, and it 
crossed his mind that there were many things he probably should 
have said, but hadn't.  

And he was running out of time.

In the bathroom, having put some needed distance between them 
momentarily, Scully dug through Mulder's medicine cabinet--a 
veritable drugstore of medications from his various encounters 
with emergency rooms over the last year and most of which she 
could never get him to take.  He was always extremely reluctant 
to take anything that made him feel even slightly out of control.  
Of course, after the Ronnie Stickland vampire incident down in 
Texas a couple of months ago, she now had a better understanding 
of just why he'd developed that aversion over the years.  

She selected an milder painkiller that she knew she could badger 
him into taking.  Then, in the cabinet under the sink she found 
the large professional first-aid kit that she'd given him three 
years ago now.  It'd been something of a joke at the time but 
during the ensuing years, between the two of them, they'd slowly 
utilized virtually everything in it.  Digging through, she found 
a bit of tape and something she could use for splints.  She 
brought her bounty back into the living room and sat across from 
Mulder again on the coffee table.  She scooted forward and 
brought his injured hand back onto her lap as she dropped two 
pills in his other hand.  "Take these for the pain."

Mulder peered at them suspiciously in the dark.  "What are they?  
I don't want anything that's going to knock me out."  

"It won't knock you out, or make you out of control, they'll just 
take the edge off.  Take them."  She looked up and grinned 
slightly as she tore off some tape strips for the splint.  "I 
promise--no Chloral Hydrate.  I'm not up to another rendition of 
'Shaft' tonight."  

Mulder shot her an exasperated look.  "I did NOT," he insisted 
again in the same vehement tone that he'd used the last time he 
denied that story as he downed the pills without water.  Suddenly 
he leaned forward slightly with that winning, charming grin he 
did so well.  "Besides, I seem to remember a rendition of 
'Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog' springing from your lips--completely 
unaided by drugs, I might add."  

"You asked me to sing, Mulder," she retorted.  "I was only trying 
to please you."  

"Jesus, Scully, if I'd known you were going to do whatever I 
asked that night, trust me--I could have come up with something 
better."  

Scully dropped her gaze to the injured hand in her lap.  Yeah, I 
bet you could have, she thought, letting yet another Mulder 
innuendo slide by as she usually did.  She removed the ice pack 
and lightly dried the skin with a towel.  She gently felt all the 
length of his hand and fingers.  "Jesus, they did a number on 
you."  She looked up at him apologetically.  "I'm going to align 
the bone back before I splint it.  It's going to hurt some more."  

Mulder shrugged slightly.  "You're the Doctor."  

"Well, actually Mulder, I haven't really set a bone since medical  
school--there's not a whole lot of call for it in my current line 
of work, you know?"  

"Oh, that's confidence inspiring."  Mulder gave a small laugh 
then nodded his OK.  "What the hell, go for it FBI woman."  

Scully bent over his hand and carefully nudged the small bones 
back into place as Mulder silently gritted his teeth, talking her 
way though it to distract him.  "I want you to go and get this x-
rayed as soon as you can and a real splint applied," she said as 
she worked the splints into place and began the taping process.  
"You can tell them you slammed your hand in the car door or 
something.  Don't argue with me, just do what I say for once in 
your life because I want to make sure this heals properly."  

"Yes, Mom," he drawled indolently back at her as she finished 
with the last of the tape and surveyed her handiwork.    

As she looked at Mulder's battered hand, she thought again how 
fragile the human body really was, how it was so easily broken or 
destroyed.  She ran her fingers gently over the back of his hand, 
feeling the bones, tendons and muscles, connected together so 
tenuously, just like people.

She wondered what kind of man could deliberately snap another's 
bone, cause pain without mercy.  As she touched his skin, she 
wondered at how man's touch could be turned into something that 
could cause pain and death or deep pleasure and comfort, 
depending on the man.  

She shook her head slightly rousing herself from her reverie.  
She really must have taken a philosophy pill somewhere tonight 
she thought.  She knew that she probably should at least try to 
put the feelings that touching him evoked back into their proper 
box, where she'd kept them safely stored for years.  

But right now, sitting here in the darkness with him so very 
close, she was not at all sure she wanted to put the feelings 
away because she wanted this man's touch.  His beautiful mind had 
seduced, caressed, and challenged her mind for years.  And she 
wanted his body to do the same for hers.  She wanted to know the 
feel and imprint of him on her skin so badly that she didn't 
think she could bring herself to look him in the eyes for fear of 
his seeing.  Damn him, he always saw everything, she thought 
ruefully.  She'd been naked before him for years, just not in the 
physical sense.  

"There, all better," she finally said, her voice catching 
slightly.  She cleared her throat and looked up at his eyes.

"You forgot to kiss it," he responded softly, falling back on the 
safety of their old habit of banter even as he felt the hot flush 
of craving, acutely aware of the change in the atmosphere between 
them.  He watched in wonder as Scully smiled gently and finally 
took him up on one of his suggested innuendoes.  

Turning his hand over, she placed a lingering moist kiss in the 
center of his palm, making him run flush and causing him to catch 
his breath.  His un-bandaged fingers curled to graze her face in 
response as he felt just the tip of her tongue touch the 
sensitive skin.  She then pressed his palm to her cheek, raising 
her eyes to meet his gaze.  

As she looked at him in the darkness, Mulder's handsome face 
changed and gone was the smart-ass grin and bantering posture.  
In their place was the combination of confusion and 
comprehension--and the hunger that matched hers.  His lips parted 
slightly as he searched her eyes and acknowledged the truth that 
they'd done such a pitiful job of hiding.  "All better now?" she 
asked, smiling and feeling just absurdly happy.  

"God, Scully, I--"  

"Shhhh, Mulder," she said as she moved forward and softly kissed 
him into silence, touching his face and feeling him respond 
without hesitation to her caress, his lips warm and gentle at 
first.  It felt so good, like an ache finally soothed.  She broke 
the kiss just long enough to look him in the eyes, wanting to see 
his need.  

Mulder locked his gaze with hers as he slid his right hand into 
her hair and brought her lips back to his, returning her kiss 
hungrily as he felt the jolt of his blood racing deep in his gut, 
his groin and his head.  God, it felt like everything that he'd 
ever imagined, like everything that he'd ever hoped for with her.  
His arms moved around her, pulling her against him as he lay back 
into the couch.

As he pressed into heat of their embrace, his fingers stroked 
through the red strands of her hair, pushing back it off her face 
so he could see her take his kiss.  He felt Scully's tongue slide 
into his open mouth to caress him back.  He lightly groaned in 
released pleasure and spoke her name softly in between deep 
kisses to her mouth and lighter ones to her eyes, her jaw and 
that sweet spot below her ear where he felt his hot breath cause 
her to shiver. 

But then suddenly she was gone.  Mulder opened his eyes as Scully 
pulled out of his arms and rose to her feet.  She stood by the 
couch looking down at him, pushing her tousled hair out of her 
eyes and breathing deep.  For long moment, he just stared up at 
her and tried get his mind to form a cohesive sentence.  He tried 
to find something--anything--to fill the heavy silence, something 
to keep her from leaving.  Something that would persuade her to 
stay.    

But to his immense relief her actions apparently weren't prompted 
by second thoughts because she smiled slowly for him, then 
reached down to take his right hand.  "We need more room, 
Mulder," she said as she drew him up and off the couch.  As he 
stood looking down into her eyes, he saw how much she wanted him, 
wanted this between them.  

Before heading off to his bedroom, he touched her face and kissed 
her again just because he could, because there was nothing to 
stop him.  He had no reason for any restraints; he could show her 
how he felt.  

As Scully felt Mulder's tongue stroke against her lips, she 
couldn't wait for the rest.  She took his hands, and led him 
around his couch to the bedroom.  Just inside his bedroom door, 
she suddenly turned back into his arms, reaching up as he pulled 
her against him and rocked her gently as he touched his lips 
along the curve of her neck.  

Mulder started to work on the buttons of her suit but found it 
too awkward with his splinted hand.  With a sound of frustration 
he looked down into Scully's eyes for help; so much for being 
suave in his attempts to get her naked.

She smiled in amusement as she gently took over, opening the 
buttons herself.  Slowly.  Teasing him.  When she was done, 
Mulder slid the jacket off her shoulders and tossed it on the 
chair behind him.  Scully languidly removed the rest of her 
clothes for him as he watched her every move with hungry eyes, 
desperately resisting the urge to push her to floor and take her 
there with no further ado.  

But he was also enjoying the show, having played it out in his 
mind a hundred times over the years seeing it in person was 
astonishing.  She moved slowly, exquisitely torturing him because 
she knew she could.  As she discarded the last layer of clothes, 
she now stood before him in bra and panties, looking much as she 
had on that rainy night in Oregon so many years ago.  Only 
instead of the fear he'd seen in her face then, Mulder saw only 
craving and arousal in her eyes.  For him.  God.  For him.  

Since that heady knowledge was almost bringing him to his knees 
anyway, Mulder decided it was time for some equal torment for 
her.  

As Scully started to unclasp her bra, he reached out and caught 
her hands in his, pulling them away gently as he leaned against 
her, backing her up and trapping her between the hard wall and 
his hard body as he kissed her, filled her mouth with his tongue, 
stroking and caressing.  Stroking and rubbing his still clothed 
body against hers.  Releasing her hands he managed to undo the 
single clasp of her bra with one hand.  

She smiled, "I'm impressed with your dexterity, Mulder." 

"Oh really?" he laughed as he slid the straps down and then off 
her shoulders where the small garment fell to the floor.  He bent 
down to kiss the rounded softness of her breasts, feeling her 
press up to meet his touch.  

"Yes," she murmured as he opened his mouth against her nipple to 
suckle it.  He rolled his tongue over the hardness, nipping 
gently before moving back up to her lips as he languidly and 
rhythmically rubbed his hips against hers, a prelude to what was 
coming a bit later.  "Oh, God, yes."


Mulder slowly sank to his knees as he worked his way down her 
body, tongue stroking his way across her belly, nuzzling his face 
against the soft skin and leaving a trail of moist kisses as he 
worked his way downwards.  He felt her breathing become more 
rapid at his touch.  

Now kneeling before her, he slid his hands up and down the length 
of her thighs, stroking them firmly, opening them slightly.  He 
pulled the panties down and off then passed his hands over the 
soft hair, taking in her clean, unique scent before he pressed 
his lips and then his tongue deep against her warm center, 
finding her clitoris.  As he held her hips firmly, he began a 
steady, circular rhythm with his firm tongue as he massaged her 
lower abdomen with his thumb.  Scully made a sharp noise at the 
first contact and her fingers slid into his hair.  

As Mulder heard her quickened response and felt her arch hard 
against him, it seemed that no one had ever done this in quite 
this manner for Scully before and something in his man's heart 
liked that.  He grasped her slender thigh, shrugging it over his 
shoulder, opening her to him further.

She sagged weakly against the wall, making soft moans as she 
braced one hand on his other shoulder and meshed her fingers into 
his hair, holding on as he stroked and licked and kissed.  

He drew away just a bit, "Is this right?" he asked.  "Is this 
good here?  Tell me."

"Yes...yes!"  Scully felt she was ready to melt with the heat and 
she shifted against his exploring mouth.  "More here."  

At her soft pleas, Mulder increased the pressure and intensity, 
kneading his tongue hard and exactly where she'd nudged his head 
to, feeding hungrily against her.  He felt her flex and thrust 
her hips against him in a fucking motion.  He slid his long 
fingers of his right hand easily though her wetness up inside 
her, filling her, stroking her hard now, inside and out, his 
driving fingers and tongue eliciting pleasure moans from the 
woman before him.

He needed this.  He needed to feel her shudder with pleasure.  He 
needed to hear it; he wanted to remember this.  Within moments, 
Scully came hard and sharply for him, calling out both his name 
and God's, although Mulder noted with satisfaction that he got 
top billing.  

As the pleasure spasms shook her, Mulder held her gently now and 
continued to soothe her through her orgasm, flattening out his 
tongue and slowing the affectionate friction to a soft rhythm as 
she came down from her high.  When her breathing was restored and 
she relaxed her grip on his hair, he sat back looked up into her 
face, noting her flush and he grinned because he knew it had been 
good for her.  "Better?" he teased quietly.  

Scully opened her eyes and pushed her hair out of her face as she 
gave him the most beautiful, almost shy smile.  One that Mulder 
would remember all his life.  "Much better, Mulder."  She reached 
down and drew him back up into her arms, kissing him deeply and 
licking her own juices off his lips hungrily.  "That was kind of 
a first for me," she confessed in his ear.  

"But not the last," he promised as he nuzzled into that place 
where her neck and shoulder met, holding her close, moving 
against her slowly this time.  "Wait, till you see what I can do 
with two good hands."

She laughed which he covered with a deep kiss and she felt his 
erection pressing into her, reminding her that as shatteringly 
good as this was, there was more awaiting them.  She suddenly 
realized that she was fully naked while he still had all his 
clothes on and the absurdity of that caused her to giggle into 
his kiss.  

Hearing the rather unusual sound coming from her, Mulder drew 
back and looked at her quizzically.  Good God--Scully giggles.  
Who would have ever guessed he thought affectionately.  "You're 
overdressed for the occasion Mulder," she told him as she reached 
down to stroke his cock through his pants, feeling the hard 
length.  

He hissed in a pleasured breath as she grasped him.  "Want to 
help me with that?"  

She nodded and moved to Mulder's perpetually unmade bed and 
crawled  on top.  Turning she beckoned him to come to her.  For 
just a moment, he was unable to move as he took in the vision of 
Scully sitting naked on his bed in the moonlight.  Sweet Jesus, 
what a sight.  

Mulder forgot the words he'd conjured up to say which was just as 
well because his body had completely taken over control of the 
reasoning machine.  No more thinking and words right now, just 
feeling, just touching, just emotion.  He came to her, standing 
next to the bed as Scully rose up on her knees before him.  She 
reached up and pulled his jacket off his shoulders, tossing it 
aside.  Grasping a hold of his black T-shirt, she lifted it up.  
As he raised his arms for Scully to pull the shirt over his head, 
he suddenly felt a sharp twinge between his shoulder blades from 
the strained muscles and he made a soft noise of pain.  

"What, Mulder?"  Scully asked as she ran her hands slowly up his 
chest to his shoulders, almost giddy at getting to touch his skin 
finally.  She pressed her lips to the hollow over his heart and 
felt its quickened rhythm.    

"Nothing.  Just a pulled muscle."  Mulder kissed her to stop her 
from worrying, gathering her against him, and feeling her breasts 
against the skin his chest for the first time as he smoothed his 
hand up and down the length of her back.  

He felt Scully's hands slide up his arms as she pulled gently 
away from his kiss.  She turned him around slowly, sitting him 
down on the edge of the bed with his back towards her as he felt 
her hands begin to stroke and massage his shoulders.  As she 
worked, she kissed the skin on the back of his neck, moving her 
soft lips down his neck and along his shoulder line.  She found 
and touched the scar she'd left on his body from years ago, 
finally placing the kiss she'd wanted to back then.  She moved 
back and breathed gently into his ear as she nuzzled her face 
into his skin and felt the tremors run through him.  Scully 
pressed her hands over his shoulder blades and down against his 
smooth back.  Mulder had the most beautiful back in the world.  
Sleek and wonderfully defined.  

Mulder closed his eyes, drew breath softly through his mouth, and 
gave himself up to Scully's restorative touch as the sensual 
indulgence pushed one pain away but caused a deeper ache within 
him even as she did so.  Both the pleasure and the pain felt so 
damn good.  

After long moments, Scully slipped her arms under his and around 
his chest, pulling him back against her as she nuzzled her face 
again into the crook of his neck.  "All better, now?" she asked.  
Mulder's answer was to turn his face to take a kiss from her, 
opening his mouth to hers and bringing her inside.  He felt 
Scully's hand move down his body to cup and stroke against the 
hardness of his erection through his clothes massaging him firmly 
as he moaned in pure pleasure this time.  "Good, because you're 
still way overdressed for the occasion," she told him as she went 
to work on the snap and zipper of his pants.   

That elicited another laugh from him and within moments, shoes, 
socks, pants and underwear were in a heap on the floor as he 
turned and took Scully back into his arms as he pushed the large 
pillows up against the headboard and sat back against them, 
pulling her with him.

She smiled as she gazed down the length of his body.  So 
beautiful, she thought remembering how he made her shake with 
powerful pleasure just moments ago.  God, she wanted him, wanted 
him to give her that feeling again.  But first she wanted to see 
him lose the same control she had, she wanted to see him lose 
himself because of her.  

She started the journey down his body with a deep kiss, which she 
moved to under his jaw as his lifted his head to give her better 
access.  Her hands led the way to his chest, playing in the 
perfect amount of chest hair.  She deep massaged his chest, 
sucking on first one nipple then the other.  God, he was making 
wonderful sounds that she really liked as she felt her own heat 
rise again.  It was all she could do to keep from just begging 
him to thrust deep inside her.  But she wanted to be good to him 
too, just as he'd been so good to her earlier.    

By the time Scully had reached the flat plane of his belly 
kissing, nuzzling and licking, Mulder was almost writhing and his 
breath was labored.  As much as her touch burned on his skin, all 
of his nerves, blood and feelings had congregated deep in his 
cock and balls where she had yet to even visit and he going to 
fucking die if she didn't get there soon.  

Then suddenly her hands were exactly where he wanted them most, 
followed soon by her soft mouth as she took him deep.  Mulder 
cried out sharply as she began a slow-at-first rhythm that built 
with hot intensity, her tongue massaging, her lips gliding, wet 
and sucking.  Almost, but not quite, as good as being inside her 
would feel.  Mulder knew that instinctively without even having 
had the pleasure yet.  

Through pleasured narrowed eyes, he sat back into the pillows and 
watched Scully work his body as his rational mind and primal 
urges fought a war between holding back to prolong the sensation 
and rushing headlong into that void that promised relief from the 
sweet pain.  

Scully felt Mulder's hand on her back, gently stroking, following 
her movements.  She could feel the tightening and the increasing 
hardness as she brought him closer.  Scully knew there was just a 
small window of time left before he went all the way over and the 
need for completion obliterated all other thought.  

Suddenly selfish, she didn't want this to be done just yet; she 
wanted to finish this with him inside her.  She wanted to look 
into his face when he came, to see what he looked like.  She'd 
wanted that for years.  She'd waited for that for years.  She 
slowly withdrew her mouth from him, hearing the questioning sound 
he made as she did so and she moved back up his body to touch his 
face.  "Mulder, I need to feel you inside.  I need you.  Please."  

Mulder was momentarily incredulous at her request, but he could 
see Scully was earnest, as though she might actually think he'd 
say no or something.  He would have laughed but as he gazed at 
her, her obvious longing for him filled him with a tenderness for 
her that was overwhelming, backing him away just slightly from 
the edge he was on.    

He touched her face with gentle affection and kissed her sweetly.  
"There's no where I'd rather be," he said as he drew away with 
his best goofy-ass smile, which was wiped instantly off his face 
as Scully took his face in her hands and kissed his passionately 
in return, taking his mouth with hers.  When she drew away he was 
having trouble breathing, "Jesus, Scully," he whispered, "If you 
don't fuck me soon, I'm a goner."

She smiled wickedly at she moved over him, bringing him slowly 
inside as Mulder rested his hand on her hip, guiding her.  As she 
settled her weight, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, 
kissing along the tender skin beneath his ear.  She heard his 
satisfied moan in her ear.  "All better now, Mulder?" 

He nodded as he arched his neck as she nuzzled against him and he 
flexed his hips up, driving his cock deeper within her.  "Yes, 
better now."

She drew back just slightly, caressing his face as he placed wet 
kisses in her palm, gently nipping and sucking on her fingers.  
"Oh Mulder, God--you feel so good," she told him, savoring the 
moment and the feeling of him deep and hard within as she began 
to move on his body, slow gentle thrusts.  

He caressed her breasts, leaning forward to kiss them, covering 
the nipple with his mouth and sucking deeply before running his 
tongue over the smooth skin as she made the most satisfying 
noises.  Unthinking, he brought his injured hand up to touch her, 
and she bumped against it as she moved, eliciting a sharp hiss of 
pain from him. 

Scully took his splinted hand in hers, "Be careful, Mulder."  She 
lay his hand gently out on the bed, as she began harder thrusts 
against him, fucking him with increasing intensity,  as he filled 
her completely.   

Oh God.  Sensory overload kicked into place and Mulder felt his 
control slip away.  His head dropped back and he entered that 
mindless stage where reaching that edge and falling over with her 
was the only thing in the world worth living for and all rational 
thought boiled down into short word phrases.  Tight.  Wet.  Good.  
So damn Good.  Scully.  Oh God, Scully, bringing him to this 
pleasure.  Now, oh God, now.  He felt her hands on his face and 
he opened his eyes, looking into her eyes as he began to come.

She watched as his orgasm shuddered through his body starting at 
the place their bodies met and rippling outwards.  He had to 
close his eyes again and turn his head with the intensity of it.  
His hand dug into her hip as though he could pull her inside 
himself and he had a beautiful sheen on his skin from sweat.  God 
what a sight.  It was exactly what she wanted.  He made deep 
primal cries that excited her even further as she felt his warmth 
flood up into her.  Scully watched the whole thing with deep 
satisfaction in her heart.    

She slowed her movements as he calmed.  But he pressed her back 
just slightly so he could slip his thumb down to where he was 
buried deep inside her, finding her clit and massaging deeply as 
he urged her to keep moving against him.  He reached up to kiss 
her as he increased the pressure of his fingers and within 
seconds she felt the sudden tight orgasm slam though her and a 
blinding light flashed behind her closed eyes.  Mulder covered 
her cry with his mouth, pressing her lips to his.     

She gripped his arms to steady herself.  Mulder felt her tremble 
as he raised his hands and smoothed her hair back from her face, 
caressing her and then pulling her down against him.  Scully 
collapsed up against his chest as his arms encircled her and they 
stayed that way together a long time as Mulder stroked his hands 
up and down the length of her back, holding her against him.  
Scully's face was buried in the crook of his neck and after a 
moment, he could feel her softly licking the salt off his skin.  
It tickled just a bit and he smiled.  "Hungry, Scully?"  

"No, not anymore," she said as she raised her head to look at him 
and they laughed gently together, so completely at ease with all 
this that it surprised both of them.  

Scully moved off from on top of him and laid down on her back 
next to Mulder seeking to relive him of her weight.  But he was 
loathe to let her warmth go and he scooted back down on the 
pillows until he lay next to her, turning into her arms as she 
gathered him to her.  Exhausting and emotional release flooded 
him as he lay against her breast, rendering him temporarily 
wordless, but she seemed not to mind.  His thoughts floated 
tranquilly and randomly.  

Mulder knew that Scully was so firmly lodged in the narrow crack 
in his heart that he'd never shake her loose--not that he'd ever 
wanted to.  She'd pushed the fissure a little farther open each 
day, seeing more inside than he'd ever let anyone see.  Not once 
had she turned away from what she saw, not once.  Just as she 
hadn't turned away tonight when she'd stepped towards him when 
she had every reason to step back to protect herself. 

But she'd always done that--not just tonight.  Tonight they'd 
finally shared the physical expression of their larger and more 
complicated emotional nexus.  But Scully had always given him 
what he'd needed most in the world; relief from his aloneness and 
she became someone for him to care for.  He'd needed to care for 
someone so much.   

He felt a deep weariness taking control in spite of his efforts 
to fight it.  He would have to leave soon and he didn't want to 
waste their remaining time together.  He didn't know what would 
come of them  tomorrow.  "Scully, I want--"  

"Shhhh..."  Scully shushed him for the second time that evening, 
kissing him softly again.  "You need to rest."  He decided to do 
as she asked and curled even more tightly against her.  

She gazed at Mulder nestled against her as she held him.  She 
looked down her body to where his left hand was splayed across 
her belly and she watched the gentle rise and fall of his hand 
with each breath she took.  His long legs were tangled with hers 
and everywhere his skin touched hers was warm.  

 She moved her eyes back to his peaceful face.  His beautiful but 
so often-sad eyes were now closed and she felt his warm breath 
from his softly parted lips caress her skin in the soft rhythm of 
very early sleep.  He felt safe and well loved; she knew that 
because it was just how she felt.  She wanted to keep this 
picture in her mind forever; it might be the only one she would 
ever have.  

Oh God, don't think about that.  Not right now.  She'd start 
crying if she allowed herself to dwell on that and Mulder would 
hear her and wake up.  That wasn't the memory she wanted him to 
have, it wasn't what she wanted either.  She just wanted this 
moment of blissful peace almost as badly as she had wanted his 
body earlier.  Scully shook her head and concentrated on the 
present and the man in her arms.    

She looked down again and dropped a gentle kiss on top of 
Mulder's hair as she gave a small affectionate smile.  She'd 
never been able to kiss the top of Mulder's head before tonight.  
God, such a stupid simple thing and yet another first.  

Not the last, he'd said earlier.  Please, God, let that be true.  
Please.  They deserved more time even though they'd wasted so 
much.  Just give us a little more, she bargained.  It won't be 
wasted.  I promise.  She couldn't help but wonder how differently 
they would look to each other tomorrow in the bright light of 
day.  But the foreboding that had followed her for days struck 
her in the face again.  

If there was another tomorrow for them.  

She had to go.  She'd let all her control slip away tonight just 
as he had.  If she stayed, she wasn't sure if she could watch him 
walk out that door later without turning into a mess and she knew 
that Mulder with his completely balls-out openness would find it 
just as difficult.  He needed to be able to continue on this 
mission with as clear a head as possible.  And they could each do 
what they must if they didn't have to say goodbye face to face.    

Their great strength had always been asking more of each other, 
and not less.  

Moving with complete stealth, she lifted Mulder's hand from her 
body and slid out of his embrace, quite possibly the hardest 
thing she'd ever done.  Mulder rolled more fully onto his stomach 
as his hand sought what was missing a moment before becoming 
still on the sheets.  

Scully knelt by the bed and looked her fill.  Then she kissed his 
lips softly as he slept and his hand again reached out for her.  
She placed her hand over his and he went still again.  Suddenly 
she had to say the words even if he couldn't hear them in his 
conscious mind.  She leaned over him, placing her lips by his 
ear.  "I love you, Mulder" she told him so softly that it only 
sounded like a gentle sigh, a warm breath on his skin.  

Turning quickly, she picked up her clothes and took them in the 
living room where she dressed quietly.  She managed to get out 
the door, out of the building and into her car before she lost 
the last vestige of her control.  Scully broke and cried hot, 
deep, emotional tears in the dark.  She cried aloud about the 
unfairness of having come so far together to possibly lose it 
all.  She cried about wasted time.  She cried all wracking sobs 
of fear that she hadn't wanted Mulder to see.  God what would she 
do if this all went bad.   

It was a long time before she finally calmed down as sheer 
exhaustion overtook her.  Completely drained, she started the car 
and drove off.    

In the darkness, Scully never saw the man sitting in the car down 
the block who watched and listened.   


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Thursday April 30th
3 p.m.
New Spartan's Compound


The whole situation had veered wildly out of his control, Mulder 
realized.  And there was no righting it back on course.  It was 
over.  This was the End Game.

It would be hard to imagine the circumstances getting any worse 
and yet, incredibly, they had as Mulder stood watching the cash 
that August Bremer had just dumped onto the fire go up in flames.  
The cash they'd just stolen.  The cash Bremer just killed a bank 
clerk for.  And within five seconds, it all became clear why and 
Mulder looked around, desperate to find a way to get out, get to 
a phone, and get a warning to someone.  To Scully.  He had to 
warn Scully about the money.  

It was then that Bremer pulled a gun on him, telling the group he 
had proof of his duplicity.  Mulder watched in horror as he 
pulled out a small tape player and turned it on.  A moment later 
he heard the beginnings of his conversation with Scully from the 
night before.  He closed his eyes just briefly against the sound 
that sealed his fate.  No one knew where he was; no one was 
coming to save him.  He was a dead man.  Mercifully, Bremer 
turned off the tape within moments and for one brief second he 
looked Mulder straight in the eyes before he moved his gaze away, 
his eyes dark.  

And Mulder realized that was the last time he would ever hear 
Scully's voice.    

He was taken over next to the lake where he kneeled in the dirt, 
waiting with Jacob Haley to die.  He waited a long time to die 
and he couldn't believe how fast his mind was racing, faster than 
his heart even.  Considering and discarding dozens of plans, 
hundreds of words, trying to find something, anything that would 
save his life.  In the background he heard the sounds of cars 
coming and going, he heard whispers and shouts.  Then suddenly 
Bremer and the skinhead approached and Haley was set free.  

They would only kill one today it seemed.  

Mulder was hauled to his feet and they walked him across the 
abandoned fields.  Mulder's mind continued to race out of 
control.  He noticed everything.  The muffled sound of their 
footsteps in the soft dirt that smelled rich and pungent.  He 
could feel his breath and the heavy thud of his pounding 
heartbeat.  The sun was warm on his face in the cool day and 
there was a slight breeze against his skin.  

He looked up at the bright blue of the sky.  Blue like Scully's 
eyes.  

When they'd reached the furthest part of the compound, he was 
ordered to kneel again.  Mulder knew why execution shots were to 
the back of the head --it was so the shooter didn't have to look 
you in the eyes.  Mulder turned and looked at Bremer, staring at 
the older man defiantly.  Mulder knew he would die now--there was 
no more time for him.  But he wasn't going to make this an easy 
killing for Bremer.  He wasn't going to cower or beg so that 
Bremer could congratulate himself with smug contempt for 
murdering a cowardly traitor.

It was a long time until Bremer finally raised his eyes to meet 
his hard gaze.  Mulder expected no compassion and didn't see any.  
But now that he'd won that last contest of wills, Mulder turned 
away because the truth was, he didn't want the last thing he saw 
on this earth to be Bremer's face.  Mulder slowly sank to his 
knees and looked up at the blue.  

He'd failed.  As fast as his mind had raced earlier it seemed to 
be moving even more quickly as he tried to resolve all his 
unresolved thoughts. 

Oh God, he'd failed, just as he feared he might.  They would kill 
him now.  They'd kill him and no one would ever know until it was 
too late that the bio-toxin was on the money.  Jesus God, Scully.  
She might die.  She might die.  Oh God, please....  

No... wait, that was wrong.  Scully would know--he was being 
stupid, he knew better than to underestimate her.  If she hadn't 
already figured out, she'd realize soon why they hadn't taken all 
the money in the robbery.  Scully would make the connection.  Of 
course she would.  He knew she would.  She would save the moment 
by using that astounding mind of hers.  She'd finish this for 
him.   

And he would die alone in this field.  

He was scared.  Jesus God, he was so scared.  Please let them 
dump his body somewhere where it would be found.  He didn't want 
Scully to go through the rest of her life wondering the where and 
the how.  She loved him--he'd heard her say it.  And because she 
loved him, not knowing the truth of his death would eat at her.  
He knew better than most how not knowing the truth of a thing 
could darkly color everything you saw or thought or did or said.  

Or didn't say.  Shit.  Three fucking words and he hadn't said 
them.  Coward.  He'd known the truth all along.  Since the 
beginning, he'd known and he still hadn't said them.  Goddamn 
fucking coward.  Mulder heard the click of the automatic behind 
him and his breath stopped.  What lies beyond this life?

He closed his eyes and whispered the three words of truth for 
Scully, repeating the benediction over in his mind as he heard 
the shot ring out and his body jerked violently at the noise.  

When he opened his eyes, he saw body of the skinhead laying in 
the dirt beside him.  

He gasped desperately for air and looked up into the face of 
August Bremer.  He met the eyes of a man who'd coldly killed 
dozens without a second thought or a shred of remorse.  An inside 
operative in so deep that the man was no longer distinguishable 
from those he spied on.  A man who'd become what he'd beheld.    

The man who was letting him go.  Giving him back his life.  

Mulder didn't have the time to wonder about motivations.  He  
crossed the field and just over a small rise, a car was sitting, 
just as Bremer had said it would be.  He recognized it as one of 
the cars that had been parked in the compound just a while ago--
Bremer had obviously had someone drop it there while they'd 
walked across the field.  They'd probably thought that Bremer was 
going to use it.  

Mulder opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.  He 
leaned forward and rested his forehead on the steering wheel a 
moment, gripping it tightly, still breathing deep and trying to 
calm his racing heart.  God, he didn't have time to fall apart.  
He didn't have time for this, he had to get to the bank in 
Harrisburg, and he had to get to a phone.  He had to get to 
Scully.  The keys sat in the ignition, waiting for him.  He 
turned it with badly shaking hand and the engine sprang into 
life.  

"Thank you," Mulder said aloud, unsure of whether he was thanking 
God, fate, or even Bremer for his life.  For his second chance.  
He gripped the wheel and shifted the car into reverse, looking 
over his shoulder as he backed the car out onto the dirt road.    

It was then that he noticed it.  Lying on the passenger's seat 
was the small tape recorder with the micro tape still inside.  
The one of him and Scully.  Mulder suddenly, desperately needed 
to hear her voice.  As he drove, Mulder reached over and pressed 
the play button.  For long minutes, he listened to their soft 
conversation in his living room.  Then he heard the sounds of 
their first kiss and the more muffled noises of Scully making 
love to him.  There was a long silence and then he heard the 
sound of a door closing.  He heard quick footsteps on the street 
and recognized them instantly as Scully's.  He knew the rhythm of 
her walk as well as he knew her face, he'd heard it coming down 
the hallway into his office and his life nearly every day for 
five years.  A car door opened and closed. 

 It was then he heard the sound he hadn't expected; the sound of 
Scully crying.  Deep, hard, wracking tears for the two of them 
over what they'd found and could possibly loose.  God, it was 
heartbreaking to listen to and the emotion flooded him as his own 
eyes filled.  Slowly the terrible aching sound faded back into 
silence.   

Mulder popped the tape out and stared at it a moment before 
slipping it into his jacket pocket as he wondered at what small 
humanity might have still lurked in the darkest corner of a 
madman's mind as he'd heard a woman's tears.  

Bremer had given him back to Scully.  

He'd never know all of the reasons why and right now, he even 
didn't  have time to ponder such things.  He had a job to finish; 
he had to get to the nearest phone.  He had to find Scully 
because the danger wasn't at an end.  There was no time for just 
the two of them right now.    

But soon they would have the time.  Soon he and Scully would be 
able to look at each other in the light and decide if they were 
up to risking everything to honor this second chance they'd been 
given.

But Mulder had a feeling that after today, they would be.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------

The feedback beast loves to be fed comments, questions,
or criticisms at kimerikal@aol.com

My other XF fanfic can be found at
http://chimericalpublications.com/chimerical/fanfic/fanfic.htm

Originally published, June 1998
Revised, November  2001