TITLE: Stormy Weather AUTHOR: Lara Means E-MAIL: darknesslight@aol.com WEBSITE: www.geocities.com/larameans_2000 CLASSIFICATION: SR, lite A RATING: NC-17 ARCHIVE: Gossamer, Spookys, NO (I'll submit directly to both); Ephemeral, Xemplary, YES; anywhere else, please ask. I'll probably say yes, I just like to know where the kids are at the end of the day. SPOILERS: Triangle, The Rain King. (Missing-scene fic.) SUMMARY: Pop quiz. You're in a small motel room that you're being forced (oh yeah, force me some more) to share with your gorgeous, sexy, delectable partner. There's only one bed, and it's smaller than your queen size at home. What do you do? DATE POSTED: 11/17/00 FEEDBACK: Encouraged and welcomed at darknesslight@aol.com DISCLAIMER: U.S. copyright law says that the studio is the author of a movie or television show, not the writer or creator. Which means that "The X-Files" ultimately belongs to Rupert Murdoch, even though it was created and brought to life by people with WAY more talent. I mean no infringement, Mr. M. -- I do this for love, not money. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This started out as a distraction, just a nice little smut biscuit. Then it morphed into an entry for the Church of X Challenge for November. Additional notes at the end. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ STORMY WEATHER written by Lara Means He's just sitting there in front of me, in jeans and a tee- shirt, droning on about how it rained rose petals on the day Holman Hardt's mother died. I'm sure it has something to do with his theories about this case, but I can't quite concentrate on what he's saying right now. Because he's so fucking *close* to me. I take a deep breath to try and calm myself, but all I can smell is Mulder. His cologne, his shampoo, his sweat... Shit. That didn't help at all. I realize I'm actually carrying on a conversation with him while having no idea what I'm saying. Or what he's saying. I'm just staring at that amazing mouth of his, wishing I could just lean forward about two feet and take his luscious lower lip between mine... Wait. He's getting up. Why is he getting up? Oh. Conversation over. Damn. Now we have to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Or, rather, the bed. The *only* bed. Pop quiz. You're in a small motel room that you're being forced (oh yeah, force me some more...) to share with your gorgeous, sexy, delectable partner. The same partner you've been hopelessly in love with for years. The same partner you've lusted after for longer than you've been in love with him. There's only one bed, and it's smaller than your queen size at home. What do you do? Steady, Dana. You can get through this. X X X X X X X X X X I'm standing in the bathroom and suddenly I realize I've been brushing my hair for the past five minutes. My hair's not that long, it doesn't take five minutes to brush. I look in the mirror and contemplate putting on a little make-up, at least enough to cover up that tiny mole over my lip. Dear lord, I'm primping. *Primping*. I haven't primped since college. When I open the bathroom door, Mulder's sitting on the floor, a pillow behind his back and the extra blanket underneath him. He's taken off his jeans, so he's just wearing his tee-shirt and boxers. He's got the stuff he's been studying spread out around him. I just stare down at him until he looks at me. And hoo-boy, does he look at me. He starts at my bare feet, with the Cotton Candy Pink polish on my toenails. Then my calves, my knees, my thighs... He snags a little when he gets to the satin pajama shorts. Midnight blue. I usually wear pajamas with long pants. I have no idea what possessed me to bring these with me to this little podunk Kansas town, but... His eyes continue their journey up my body, to the matching midnight blue satin pajama top. I've left the top and bottom buttons open. He stares at my breasts, accentuated by the open button. He swallows hard, and I allow a tiny hint of a smile to appear. Then he looks at my face. And I can see his eyes now. They've gone dark, and I gasp a little at the sight. We hold each other's gaze for a moment, then I give him The Eyebrow. "Mulder, why are you on the floor?" "Huh? Oh." He finally breaks eye contact and shuffles his papers. Is he nervous? He looks nervous. "Well, you know... No cot, no couch, one bed -- and since, technically, this is your room, I thought I'd let you have it. The bed, I mean." Oh, no, G-Man. I'm not going to let you off that easy. "Mulder." "Scully, I've slept on my couch for years. I can certainly survive one night on the floor." "Then I'll just have to listen to you complain about your aching back. Uh-uh." I hold out my hand to him. He just looks at it. "Come on. We can share." His eyes lock with mine again. They're kind of a dark green now, with a hint of deep brown. Then he gives me a suggestive little grin. "Scully, are you coming on to me?" Oh, Mulder. What would you do if I gave you an honest answer to that question? I take a chance. "Maybe." His grin fades and his eyes change color again -- dark brown, little flecks of gold. How does he do that? I extend my hand again, and mirror that suggestive grin of his. "Come to bed, Mulder." My God, I think he just shivered. He puts his files aside and takes my hand. I help him off the floor, doing my damnedest to keep my eyes on his *face* -- if he's at all aroused, I will completely lose it. When he gets to his feet, he doesn't let go of my hand, and he stands close to me. *Very* close to me. "Scully?" His voice is low, rough. I toss him my Enigmatic Smile and release his hand. I turn away from him and move slowly to the foot of the bed. I crawl up to the headboard, arrange the pillows, then settle and turn back to Mulder. I can't help myself this time -- I survey him the way he surveyed me when I came out of the bathroom. Oh Jesus. He's got a hard-on the size of Montana. I force my gaze back to his eyes. I'm stunned by what I find there -- want, need, fear, love, battling to see which emotion will win out. He knows I've seen his burgeoning arousal, but I don't know what effect that'll have on his next actions. He looks away from me, and I'm seized with uncertainty -- I've read him wrong, he doesn't want this, doesn't want *me*, he's going to go sleep in the car. He leans down and grabs the pillow and blanket from the floor, loosely draping both in front of him. Then he gives me his lopsided goofy grin. He was embarrassed. I smile gently to let him know it's okay, then I and look away too. I feel the bed dip next to me, watch as he adds his pillow to the pile behind us. I don't know what he did with the blanket. Mulder slides his body under the sheet and rolls onto his side, his back to me. He snaps off the bedside lamp next to him and finally turns to look at me. We don't say anything for a moment, then he smiles. "Thanks, Scully. Goodnight." With that, he turns away again and lays down. What just happened here? He couldn't be that aroused if he didn't want me... could he? Or was it a physical thing, merely an automatic physiological response to seeing a half-naked woman standing in front of him, watching her crawl up a bed wiggling her ass... Oh shit. Damn. Fuck. Am I *trying* to seduce him? Well... yeah. But come on, Dana. You could've worn regular pajamas. Walked around the bed. Done a little less ass- wiggling. Been not quite so fucking obvious. I glance over at him in the dark. His back is to me, I can hear him breathing. Deep and steady. I think he's trying to will that impressive erection into oblivion, which I really don't want him to do. I didn't mean to embarrass him, but damn it, I... I want him. I roll over on my side and scoot closer to him, almost spooning. I lightly touch his upper arm, and I feel him quiver under my fingertips. "Mulder?" "Yeah." His voice is raspy. His breathing has gone shallow and ragged. "I'm sorry." "For what?" "For making you uncomfortable." "'S okay." He's still breathing funny. My hand is still on his arm, and I let it slide toward his elbow as I shift a little closer. Mulder quivers again. I take another risk and lean down close to his ear. When my breath hits his neck I feel a shudder run through him. I lean closer and press my lips to that delicious-looking spot right behind his ear. He lets out a long, shaky breath. Encouraged, I kiss him there again, flicking the spot with my tongue. That gets me a tiny little moan. "Scully..." he whispers. It's a ragged whisper, and it sends a shot of arousal right between my legs. Jesus, what this man does to me. I nibble on the delicate shell of his ear before I answer. "Yes, Mulder?" Then I nibble some more. He gasps when I take his earlobe between my teeth. "God, Scully, please..." "Please?" I ask with a smile. "Don't..." "Don't what?" I wrap my lips around his ear, the lower one resting on that spot behind it. My hand's been moving lightly and slowly up and down his arm all this time. "Don't do that... Please, Scully, stop..." Stop? *Stop*? From the sounds he's making, he's enjoying this. I know I am. I release his ear from my mouth, but I stay close so I can whisper to him. "Why do you want me to stop, Mulder?" My breath on his ear makes him shudder again, and I can feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense up. I pull away from him a little, then rest my hand on his shoulder. "Look at me," I tell him. I keep my voice gentle, but I put pressure on his shoulder, urging him onto his back. He still won't look at me, so I lean over him and tilt his face toward mine. "Why do you want me to stop?" Outside, lightning flashes. Heat lightning probably. Mulder finally meets my gaze -- oh my God. His eyes speak volumes, contradicting his words. "We can't, Scully." "Why not?" He struggles to find a response, his gaze flicking from my eyes to my lips and back. Finally he gives up and squeezes his eyes shut tight. "I don't..." "What, Mulder?" I lay my hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding. "You don't want me?" Eyes still closed, his hand comes up to cover mine. "I... no... God, Scully... we can't..." I smile, hoping he'll hear it in my voice. "Mulder, for an educated man, you sure have gone incoherent on me. Come on, look at me. Tell me what's wrong." He opens his eyes now -- they're dark and luminous. I hear thunder roll somewhere off in the distance. From that heat lightning before, probably. I meet Mulder's gaze steadily, waiting for him to explain to me why we can't when the erection my thigh just nudged says we can and should and should very soon. "This. This is wrong. You're my partner, my friend... We can't." I blink at him. That's got to be the most ridiculous thing he's ever said to me. But I can't say that to him, not in the fragile emotional state he's in right now. So I reach up and caress his cheek -- he leans into my touch, his eyelids fluttering a bit. I move a little further up his body, so that I'm lying on his chest. My thigh rubs against his cock as I move, and a low moan escapes him. "Yes, Mulder, I'm your partner. Your friend. I treasure that." I stroke his forehead, brush his hair back. I try to keep my voice steady and low. "And we're adults. Two mature adults, who clearly find each other very attractive. Who want each other." His gaze drops to my mouth, then back to my eyes. He shifts a little under me, and we both gasp at the contact. "There's nothing in the rule book that says we can't." I lean closer, my lips almost touching his. I can feel him breathing. "So what's stopping us?" He opens his eyes and looks at me again -- I could swear those dark, dark eyes can see right into my soul. Surely he can tell how much I want him, need him. There's another flash of lightning, throwing his face into sharp relief for an instant -- and what I see there is something I'd discounted before. Fear. "Scully... we can't give them anything, any leverage they could use against us." Shit. That never occurred to me. That he's hesitant because of the work. Of course Mulder would think of the work first. Something resembling jealousy surges within me -- how can I possibly be jealous of the work? Not *the* work. *His* work. His quest. His passion. I start to pull away when I feel his fingertips slowly gliding along my arms, elbows to shoulders and back again. It's gentle and soft... and arousing. I open my mouth to say something but all that comes out is a tiny whimper. Outside the thunder rumbles, closer now. Mulder's voice rumbles too, sending a shudder through me. "I won't let them take you away from me again, Scully. I won't lose you again. I can't." Oh my God. It's not the work he's afraid of losing. Well, Dana, it's official. You're an idiot. I smile and lean closer to him, then I press my mouth to his. His lips are so soft... softer than I ever imagined. I fight the urge to smooth my tongue over that full lower lip and force myself to end the kiss. Then I look into his eyes again and whisper, "I'm not going anywhere." He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head a little. "Scully..." "Mulder, listen to me." I wait until he's looking at me again. "It's just us here. You and me. Nobody else knows anything unless we tell them." He starts to shake his head again, but I cup his face between my hands. "We can't keep looking over our shoulders forever. We can't allow them to control our lives." I kiss him again, gently, trailing my fingertips over his eyelids, his nose, his mouth... "If we let them stop us, come between us like this..." I trail off, looking away from him. I feel defeated already, even though he's lying beneath me and still very much aroused. Suddenly his hands are around my face and he pulls me close, sealing his mouth to mine. I'm startled but not stupid -- I press my body to his, my fingers in his hair, my hips grinding against him. His tongue probes at my lips and I welcome him inside, caressing, being caressed. Dear God in heaven. If it's possible to come from just a kiss, I'm about to do it. Mulder ends the kiss, pulls away a little, looks up at me. "Just us. You and me." I nod and lean down to kiss him again -- he stops me. "I have to ask, Scully..." A cold chill runs through me as I hear the wind pick up outside -- what else could he possibly need to know? "Ask me anything." Permission granted, now he turns shy. Or hesitant. Or scared. I give him a little smile and run my fingers over his stubbled cheek. He closes his eyes at my touch, and that seems to fortify him. When he opens them again, they're clear and determined. "This... Scully, is this just physical? Or is it... could it be more?" Shit. He wants to know how I feel. I love him. I do. I've just never been really good at *saying* it. Truth be told, neither is he. He told me once, not long ago, but he'd just suffered a head injury. But he shows me. He shows me all the time. The thousand little touches. The grins. The innuendoes. The hand on my back. The respect he gives me. The way he never makes me feel small when I'm with him. The times he's saved my life. I try to show him, too. I try to be supportive of him -- within reason, of course. I take care of him when he's hurt. Like this morning, after that cow fell through his ceiling. When I ran my fingers through his hair. I'm surprised my frequent 'checking for head trauma' hasn't clued him in yet. Maybe he just needs to hear it. As much as I need to tell him. I shift my body so that I'm straddling him, my knees on either side of his hips. Oh God... I don't think I realized until just now how wet I am. I don't think Mulder realized it either -- he inhales sharply at the feel, the scent of my arousal. And that arouses me even more. Then, finally, I give him the answer he's seeking. "More," I whisper, "so much more..." The look on his face tells me everything I ever need to know about this man. He loves me. And he wants me. I lean down and kiss him, but it's the last moment of control I have. His arms surround me, holding me tight to him. His tongue plunders my mouth, and all I can do is let it happen. As much as he had to know how I feel, right now he's all about want and need and desire and lust... Mulder sits up, still holding me, still kissing me. I wrap my legs around him, sliding off him to settle with my ass on the bed, his legs around me too. He releases my mouth, his lips trailing fire down my throat. His hands sleek up and down my back, into my hair. Mine have found their way underneath his tee-shirt, and I can feel him shiver at the touch of my fingertips along his toned abs. Finally I can't stand it anymore -- I push him away just long enough to sweep the tee- shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. I give him another deep kiss, then I get my chance to move on to his jaw, his ear, his throat, my hands kneading his chest as I go. God, how did I wait so long to taste him... Mulder slips his hands between us and starts to work on the buttons of my pajama top. He parts the dark satin and cups my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples. The sensation is so tantalizing I tear my mouth from his throat and let out a low moan. He takes advantage of the opportunity and leans down, kissing and licking and biting my breasts. When he sucks a nipple into his mouth I gasp, arching my back and burying my fingers in his hair, holding him to me. "Mulder! God..." I always figured that mouth could do amazing things, but I never dreamed... Those luscious lips and that talented tongue never leaving my aching breasts, he comes up on his knees and leans me backwards. When I'm on my back, my feet moving restlessly along his strong calves, his mouth begins a journey southward. His fingers tickle my ribs on their way to my waistband, then he tugs my pajama bottoms down and off. I return his smug grin when he sees I'm not wearing any panties. Then his mouth returns to its path, leaving wet kisses on my stomach and dipping his tongue into my navel -- that causes a violent shudder to run through my body, and Mulder looks up at me. Another flash of lightning illuminates his face -- his eyes are dark, feral. Those eyes lock onto mine, and he covers my navel with his mouth. His tongue laps at me again, then... oh God then... he applies a little suction. Just a bit at first, then more, and more... Who knew the navel was an erogenous zone? He's going to leave a hickey on my belly button. Ask me if I care. Neither do I care if his next stop is up or down -- although I will admit that I'd love to know what that mouth can do elsewhere... He's reading my mind, I know he is. He releases his hold on my navel with a loud pop, then his tongue bathes my tummy on its way to.. oh yeah... right... *there*... The thunder outside our window effectively drowns out my growl as I writhe under him. I don't think anybody's ever made me writhe before -- but if anybody could, it would be Mulder. He isn't doing anything all that unusual, certainly nothing other men haven't done. He isn't even using his fingers, just his lips and teeth and tongue. But... this is Mulder. This man knows me instinctively. Knows how to touch me, how to kiss me, how to go down on me -- knows just what to do to bring about the most intense response from me. He starts at the crease of my thighs, kissing the delicate skin there. He lets his nose brush up against my outer lips as he nibbles my soft inner thighs. He draws the flat of his tongue along my folds, flicking my clit with the very tip. Then... "Oh my God... yeah... oh Mulder yes..." His tongue finally slips inside me. Deep inside me. A shudder passes through me as he closes his teeth and lips over my folds, allowing his tongue to reach further and further inside... I whisper his name and bury my hands in his silky hair -- God, I love the feel of his hair, his scalp beneath my fingertips. Then I feel his fingers grasp my wrists. His mouth never leaves me, never stops its assault on my senses, as he pulls my hands away and pins them to the bed. Jesus. I can hardly move. His hands hold mine to the bed, his mouth and shoulders anchor my hips. I have no leverage at all. Mulder has me at his mercy. And he has me on the edge of an incredible orgasm. Come on, Mulder... just a little more... wait, wait, no... "No!" He stopped. He just fucking *stopped*. Sadistic bastard. "Mulder, please, please..." Christ, I'm whimpering, begging him. I almost want to smack that grin off his face when he releases my hands and gets up from the bed. I'm so close, I know it wouldn't take much, but I've had enough of doing it myself -- I want to come with Mulder. I want to come *for* Mulder. So I just stare at him, both of us flushed, breathing heavily. Without taking his eyes off me, he slides his boxers down and off. I drop my eyes for an instant, then I raise up on my elbows to take a longer look. He looks, too. We've seen each other naked before, usually when we're sick or injured. This is our first chance to really *look* at each other. Dear God in Heaven. He's beautiful. I want him, *need* him inside me. Now. But it's as if we're both frozen, unable to take our eyes off each other, our harsh breathing the only sound in the room. There's a brief flash of lightning, and for a second I see hunger in his eyes, at war with an uncertainty that's rare for him. I know that if we're to break this stalemate, I have to make the first move. "Mulder, please... fuck me..." Thunder rumbles as something in him snaps. His eyes lose that hint of uncertainty, the hunger and need flaring. And suddenly he's on top of me, covering me, his mouth fused to mine in a brutal, desperate kiss. His hands are on my breasts, squeezing and pinching. He grinds his hips against me, his cock prodding insistently at my opening. Finally he pulls back a little, gasping for breath, staring deep into my eyes. My hands slide down his back to his waist, then to his ass -- I give him an encouraging little squeeze and his eyes go darker. I wrap my hand around his cock, and he hisses at my touch. I glide my fingers along his length, reveling in his silky hardness. Damn, he's so... *male*. And it's been so goddamn long... I feel Mulder's hand cover mine, and together we guide him to my entrance. I bring my hand up to rest on his chest, above his heart. I wait for him, watching him. He smiles down at me, leans in and nuzzles my face, peppering little kisses everywhere. He finally kisses my lips oh so gently, then whispers, "Scully..." That's the first thing he's said since we started this. Since he asked me how I feel. And oh God the way he says my name... reverent, almost like a prayer. I can't take this anticipation any longer. I wrap my legs around him and whisper back to him -- "Please." He smiles again and gives me a deep, deep kiss as he finally enters me. Holy Mary Mother of God. I had no idea. I am so in love with this man. This feels so good. So right. How did we wait so long for this? He moves with agonizing slowness, withdrawing almost completely before thrusting forcefully back inside me. All the while he whispers my name, over and over, in that same reverent tone. He stays close, hips pumping, coarse pubic hair brushing my clit with every thrust. God, I'm so close, so so close -- and he's holding back. As badly as he needs this, he's holding back. I shift my legs higher around him and meet his thrusts, then whisper to him. "Mulder... more, please, harder... don't be afraid, Mulder, it's just us, just you and me... don't wait for me, I'll be right there with you..." His thrusts become faster, harder. He pushes himself up, the muscles in his arms tight, his powerful chest heaving above me. His head is bowed, his eyes shut tight. He's pounding into me, faster and faster, so fast I can't keep up. I can't get over how beautiful he is. "Oh God Mulder I love you so much... come on sweetheart, let go..." With a frenzy of powerful strokes he throws his head back, shouting my name as he comes. The intensity of his orgasm triggers my own -- I can feel my walls contract around him, holding onto him, pulling him further inside me. The sensations are overwhelming -- and above all of them is the knowledge that this is *Mulder*, my Mulder, my partner, my friend, my love... X X X X X X X X X X It seems like I've been floating for hours, unaware of anything except Mulder's comforting weight covering me. Eventually I feel him shift in my arms. I open my eyes and see him above me, smiling shyly, his eyes shining. He kisses me softly, sweetly. "Hi," he murmurs. "Hi." "We're at the wrong end of the bed." "I don't care." "As soft as you are, Scully, I need a pillow or two." He kisses me again as he withdraws from me, then he wraps me in his arms and shifts us to the head of the bed. He draws the sheet up over us and snuggles close, brushing the hair off my forehead as I gaze up at him. "Better?" I ask. Mulder nods, leans down to kiss me. If I'd known he liked to kiss this much, and was so good at it, I'd have kissed him years ago... "Scully?" I mumble something, unwilling to stop kissing him just yet. "Why now?" Well, that certainly stops me. Why now? I really don't know. There've been other opportunities, some in the very recent past, that we've both let pass by. We've had to share a room a few times before, too, though this is the first time we've had to share a bed. Still... Why now? He's waiting for me. Patiently, but with a touch of concern in his eyes. I smile, reach up to caress his face. "I'm not sure. Maybe..." I sigh, gathering my thoughts. "Since we got off the plane here, people have assumed we're a couple. I think... I think just I wanted it to be true." He nods a little, returning my caresses. "I think it *is* true, Scully. I think it's been true for a long time. But now... it's as if a huge weight has been lifted, I don't have to hide how I feel anymore." I slip my fingers into his hair and pull him down to me, claiming his mouth once again. When we part, he lays down next to me and I rest my head on his shoulder. My nails trace absent patterns on his chest, and his fingers trail up and down my arm. "What time's our flight?" he whispers. I told him the moment I walked into the room tonight, but I'm sure he wasn't listening. "Ten. Short hop to Wichita, nonstop to National." "I want to go by the television station before we leave, see if I can't convince Holman to talk to Sheila." The case again. His bizarre theory of the case. I sigh and shake my head a little -- he presses his lips to my temple, and I feel them curl into a grin. "I could give him an example, tell him how well things turned out for us." "Don't you dare," I mumble, scratching a little harder at his nipples. That gets a pleased moan from him, so I do it again -- then I raise up so I can talk to him seriously. "Mulder. We need to keep this just between us for now. You know that, right?" "I know, Scully. Stakes are too high right now -- we need to protect the work, to get back on the X-files." He pauses almost too briefly -- I notice. No one else would. "Once we're back, maybe we won't have to keep looking over our shoulders anymore." Damn, he's good. Not a trace of irony in his voice. "Mulder..." "Kidding, Scully, I'm kidding." He smiles up at me, but it's a tiny smile, with a hint of sadness behind it. "It won't be forever," I tell him. He's not looking at me. Fuck. I have to fix this. "I do love you, Mulder. So much." I don't know if that'll fix anything, but *I* feel a little better. He finally looks at me again, and there's so much love in his eyes. He runs a thumb over my lips, then pulls me close, whispering before he kisses me, "Love you, Scully..." I settle my head on his chest again and he holds me tightly. After a bit I feel his breathing even out, and I think he's fallen asleep. Should've known better... "So, Scully, if Holman asks about us, what should I tell him?" "He's not going to ask about us, Mulder." "But what if he does?" I press my lips to his chest, my tongue lapping at his nipple as I tell him, "You look him straight in the eye and say, 'I'm perfectly happy with my friendship with Agent Scully.'" His breathing's getting shallow -- I grin and keep up what I'm doing. "I'm... I'm perfectly happy... with my friendship with... God, Scully!" "Not quite. Try again." "I'm perfectly happy with my friendship with Agent Scully!" It all comes out in a rush, and his hands move rapidly up and down my back. I smile and cuddle up against him again. "Try to say it with a straight face, Mulder." He rolls over on top of me, that feral look back in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am," he growls, and he plunders my mouth again. I respond greedily, stroking his tongue with mine, nibbling on that delectable lower lip... And I realize now that I never, ever want to be apart from this man. I know now that he's the only man I could ever see myself with. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. It's like... like a switch has been flicked somewhere. END ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ END NOTES: Most of the smutfic I've read as post-eps for The Rain King speculated on what might've happened after the reunion. I've always been more curious about what might've happened their second night in Kroner -- after the Flying Cow Incident, before "I do not *gaze* at Scully." That curiosity turned into this little 'what-if' tale. Was it good for you? Lara Means