TITLE:        S IS FOR SUSPENSE
AUTHOR:       DONNILEE
E-MAIL:       DONNILEE@SNET.NET
RATING:       NC-17
SPOILERS:     Little ones for Fire, War of the Caprophages, 
Fight the Future, The Rain King, Millenium, Triangle, The 
Sixth Extinction, Home, Chinga, Never Again, Orison, Emily. 
Small references to various characters and events from 
episodes.
DISCLAIMER:  The characters herein belong to Chris Carter, 
Fox Broadcasting and Ten Thirteen Productions.  Nope, not to 
me.  I would have much more fun with them than CC does if I 
owned them!  No pennies are being made here either.
SUMMARY:    Scully agrees to go away with Mulder for a 
weekend of R&R before beginning a new case.  
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Requiem never happened.

DICTIONARY WORD

NEW LEXICON WEBSTER'S DICTIONARY
sus-pense - (SESPENS) N. the state of anxious expectancy or 
uncertainty that usually develops while waiting for a 
decision, outcome, etc. || (in drama, fiction and the 
movies) an effect of intense and prolonged expectancy || 
(law) temporary suspension of a right, etc. TO KEEP (or 
hold) in suspense - to keep in a state of uncertainty or 
indecision [O.F. suspens, suspense, delay]

PART 1 (PG-13)
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2001
9:00 PM

We sat on my couch, eating egg rolls with one hand and 
trolling through files with the other.  I was reading 
autopsy reports on the latest in a string of victims that 
seemed to have been abducted and returned.  Within days, 
they fell ill and died.  Five such deaths had occurred, all 
in the small town of Warren, Connecticut.

Now this town was 5 miles across and 7 miles wide.  
Population 1,000 - Whoopee!  One four-way intersection, one 
general store, one church, one elementary school, one town 
hall, one fire house, and one ... everything essential.  It 
was the ass end of nowhere, twenty miles past the last sign 
of civilization.  The good news was it was in scenic 
Litchfield County, which was supposed to be the best place 
to be during peak foliage season.  It was the first week in 
October and it was the beginning of peak 'leaf peeper' 
season as my partner called it.  

The victims all were dying from some virulent form of 
cancer.  They disappeared healthy and were returned ill.  
The autopsy reports indicated that all the victims had been 
exposed to severe radiation of some kind.  Radiation burns 
were found in various places on all the victims.

Now, my partner had experienced radiation burns from his 
close encounter with what he claims was a sunken alien 
ship.  He, however, had been lucky and his burns had 
healed.  He was assuming now, of course, that these people 
had been taken and experimented on and exposed to the same 
form of alien 'radiation' that he had come in contact with.  
It had left them with cancer.  He didn't have cancer, but 
was postulating that the victims' exposure was much more 
severe than his had been.   Something was killing those 
people, but I doubted it was extra-terrestrial in nature.

He leaned back on my couch and I watched him out of the 
corner of my eye.  His hair had grown a little and was 
curling around the backs of his ears, and brushing the top 
of his collar.  His glasses were perched on his face, and 
reflecting the light from the lamp sitting next to him on 
the table that sat next to my sofa.  His long, graceful 
fingers held his egg roll as though it were a pointer.

"Look at this, Scully.  It says here in this state police 
report that the locals have long told stories about a 
mysterious area of town called Warren Woods.  It's a town 
park, but apparently backed by a pond called Fisher's Pond.  
There is a trail leading around part of it, but the brush 
and undergrowth then grows too thick to continue.  There 
have been reports of the pond 'boiling' in areas."

"Boiling, Mulder?"  I was incredulous and I sounded like 
it.

"Probably something sunk in the pond that is periodically 
releasing pockets of air and causing turbulence in the 
pond.  But they say it was a prime fishing spot until about 
five years ago when all the fish died and floated to the 
surface.  They tried to restock it a couple of times and 
then gave up after they all kept dying."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I want to see this pond.  And I want to 
see if I can get someone to dredge it."

"What do you think is down there?"

He looked at me with that bright eyed, boyish expression he 
gets when he's about to propose something insane.  "No, 
Mulder.  Please don't tell me that you think there is an 
alien ship hiding in the bottom of the pond."  I paused.  
"There's no case here Mulder!"

He just continued to look at me and the corners of his 
mouth twitched.  I let out a long suffering sigh.  He 
grinned.  "I'm not sure, Scully, but I like to see you 
squirm.  You should see the expression you get on your 
face!"

"What expression?"

"The one that says, 'Oh no, not again!  My partner's 
hanging a serious mental left turn.'"

I frowned.  "Thanks, Mulder!"  I didn't even try to hid my 
sarcasm.  "So what do you really think?"

"Sorry, Scully.  I love that expression.  Anyway, I think 
that something is killing those fish and I want to find out 
what it is.  What do  you say?  Trip to Connecticut 
tomorrow?"

"How long is the flight?"

"I thought we'd drive."

"Drive?  What, are you crazy?"

"Certifiable if you ask most people," he quipped without 
missing a beat.

I smiled.  "Why do you want to drive?"

"I lived up there all my life, hating the New Yorkers and 
Jersey City people that used to flock into the area this 
time of year, drive 25 miles per hour and stare at the 
hills."

"And?"

"And maybe I want to be a leaf peeper for a change!  It's 
really beautiful, Scully.  You should see it.  You don't 
appreciate it when you live there.  But after you've been 
gone a while, you miss it.  I miss it.  D.C. isn't exactly 
a natural garden, you know?"

"You don't say?"  My voice dripped sarcasm.

He looked at me and then deflated.  "You're right, Scully.  
There's no case here.  We just don't have anything else to 
do. But the locals can dredge the pond if they are so 
inclined.  I just thought that ... well, we never get to 
relax and yes, and if we checked this out ... it was just 
an excuse.  We don't have anything else to do. And ..."

"Spit it out, Mulder."

"We could spend a nice relaxing weekend.  Take in the 
leaves, go hiking, hang around the house, whatever.  We 
never get away.  And then we could check this thing out on 
Monday."

"Wait a minute!  What house?"

"My house."

"I repeat, what house?"

He looked at me and grinned.  "My father owned a house in 
Greenwich."

"Your father owned a house ..."

He was nodding slowly as if I was a slow child.  "And now 
it's mine."

I felt my eyes widen despite my best attempts to look 
unaffected.  "You never told me you owned a house."

"You never asked."

"Mulder!"

He looked away and set the file on the coffee table and 
took another bite of his egg roll.  He chewed carefully.  
"Yeah, I know, lame answer."

"Your father left you the house."

"Yes."

"And you didn't sell it."

"Not yet."

"Why?"

He shrugged.  "Never got around to it, I guess.  I thought 
I might want to have a place to get away to, away from the 
city once in a while.  I haven't been there since about six 
months after he died.  I hired his former housekeeper and 
left.  Haven't been back since, except for once."

He shrugged again.  He still wouldn't look at me.

"Mulder, look at me."

He turned and faced me, swallowing the last of his egg 
roll.  His eyes darted away and then back to my face.  I 
could feel the tension rolling off him suddenly.  Gone was 
the grinning, playful partner of a moment ago.  "Look, 
forget it Scully.  I know you've probably got better things 
to do than spend the weekend with me.  You see me every 
other day of the week, right?  You probably want a weekend 
home alone.  God knows you don't get many of them."  He 
looked at the coffee table as if it had suddenly become 
very interesting.

"No, I don't.  Then again, I don't get away very often 
either."  The thought of spending the weekend in the 
country with Mulder was more appealing than it should be.  
He was right.  I should want to spend the weekend home, 
getting things done that had been neglected over the 
summer.  He looked so dejected now.

But spending the weekend with Mulder could be dangerous 
too.  He had no idea how tempting this was to me.  I could 
easily be lulled into thinking he meant more than just 
having a little relaxing weekend.  Did he?  Was that why he 
was suddenly acting so strange, so nervous?

He glanced at me again and then shook his head slightly.  
"I don't know what I was thinking."  He began gathering up 
the files and putting them in a pile.  "It's late, I'd 
better be going."

What the hell was going on here?  Why did he suddenly want 
to bolt out of here.  What did I say?  Or not say?  Oh, 
duh.

"Mulder, wait."

He stopped and looked at me, hands still on the piled 
files.  "What?"

I wanted a weekend away.  And sad, but true, I wanted that 
weekend away with Mulder.  When would we ever get another 
chance?  It wasn't like I had a bunch of friends knocking 
down the door to take me away on a weekend get away.  

I could control myself.  I know I could.  And it might be 
fun.  See where he grew up, have him tell me about the 
area.  "O.K."

"O.K. what?"

I smiled gently at him, knowing I was going to shock him.  
He never expected me to agree from the beginning.  I 
realized that now.  And he was embarrassed that he had 
asked, that was the problem.  God, I could be thick 
sometimes.  "No, we'll drive."

"We will?"

"Yeah, tomorrow morning.  Let me sleep in a little though.  
Pick me up at 8:00 AM."

The smile that lit his face up made my heart roll over in 
my chest.  Good lord, this man was going to be the death of 
me.  He looked like a little boy that had been granted his 
most desired wish.  He bit his lower lip.  That killed me 
when he did that.  What the hell was I doing?  I was going 
away for the weekend with Mulder.  But we were friends.  We 
could do this.

How would it look? 

Who cares?

What were his intentions?  Lord, I sounded like a stern 
father. 'Gee, son, what are your intentions with my 
daughter?  I was having second thoughts already.  But he 
actually looked happy as he stuffed the files into his 
briefcase and stood up, the big toothy smile still splashed 
across his face.  Happy Mulder was a rare thing and I 
didn't have the heart to rescind my decision now and wipe 
that smile off his face.

He stood and said, "O.K., I'm going to get going, go home 
and pack.  Uh, bring some warm sweaters and stuff, it can 
get chilly at night.  Do you have hiking boots?"

"Yeah."

"Bring those too."

I nodded, his smile was infectious.  "It'll be fun, Scully, 
I promise."

I nodded again and stood to follow him to the door.  He 
stepped into the hall and then turned suddenly and put a 
hand on the back of my neck.  I squeaked as he pulled me to 
him and kissed my forehead, hard and quick.  "God, Scully, 
you've made my month," he declared. 

He kissed my forehead again, this time slower and softer 
and I clenched my teeth to keep the shiver I experienced 
from showing on the outside.  I looked up and he was 
grinning down at me.  "Thanks, Scully."

"For what?"

He pulled me into a hug.  "For being my friend."

God, it was so easy to please this man, really.  Thank you 
for being a friend!  Oh God.  I chuckled.  "No problem, 
Mulder.  You're a good friend to me too."

He smiled at me again and then let go and waved over his 
shoulder as he trotted down the hall to the elevator.  I 
watched the way his snug jeans hugged his rear end as he 
strode away from me, actually humming!  I shook my head and 
grinned, ducking back into the apartment.  My body could 
still feel the imprint of his warmth against my chest.  My 
forehead tingled where his lips had brushed my skin.

Was I crazy?  How was I going to go an entire weekend, 
alone with Mulder and keep my hands off him?  The urge had 
been gradually increasing in the last year or so.  It was 
becoming nearly unbearable.  He was still the same old 
Mulder.  He still treated me with ultimate respect and 
kindness.  Work was a buffer and a safe zone.  I could fall 
back on the need for professionalism to distance myself 
from him when things got too 'close'.

He could be a self-centered ass at times when he was 
wrapped up in a case, but he didn't mean to be.  He always 
realized it later and apologized afterwards.  I had come to 
accept it as being part of him that would always be there.  
He tended to be obsessive about things that interested him 
and that wasn't going to change. 

What would it be like to be an obsession of Fox Mulder's?  
I wondered.  I shivered at the mere thoughts that this line 
of thinking was dredging up.  Why hadn't he dated in all 
the time I'd known him?  I'd asked myself that question 
more than once.   Was it simply because he didn't have the 
time?  He'd had offers.  I knew that.

I knew Diana had propositioned him, that chick in Kroner, 
Kansas had propositioned him.  I wasn't sure, but I think 
Marita would probably jump him if he asked, and I know 
Phoebe would have.  Then there was Bambi the Bimbo.  For 
God sakes!  Who names their child, Bambi?  No, 
opportunities were not the problem. He'd had plenty of 
opportunities.  And that's just the ones I knew about.

I swallowed hard as I felt a lump form in my throat, 
remembering the crushing jealousy I'd experienced for every 
woman that had ever touched him.  Sometimes it was light 
envy, other times it was devastating jealousy.  Why?  I had 
no right to be jealous.  Mulder was not mine.

Not mine.

That was the problem and I knew it.  I didn't want to face 
it.  He wasn't mine and I ...  did I want him to be?  Would 
he want to be mine?  I had been denying it for years, but I 
knew the answers to these questions.  But facing them would 
mean that I had to do something about it, didn't it?  Seven 
years of suspense was a long time to teeter on the knife 
edge of sexual tension.

I sat down and put my fingers through my hair, scratching 
my scalp.  I needed a shower.  I flopped back on the couch 
instead, closing my eyes.  I couldn't fall asleep.  I 
needed to pack.  I had some stuff that I always kept 
packed.  A bag with a couple of suits and toiletries was 
always ready to go, but I needed casual clothes for this 
trip.  

Alone with Mulder for a whole weekend in a house in the 
country.  I was insane, but I felt excited too.  Why did I 
keep fooling myself?  God, the way he looked at me when I 
said I would go!  Was there any better feeling than making 
the brooding, introspective Fox Mulder happy.  What that 
smile did to me!

Did he not date because he ... wanted to be with me? NO!  I 
couldn't let myself think that.  It was a recipe for 
disaster.  I knew I wasn't his type.  I knew he liked and 
respected me.  I also knew I drove him nuts, well, more 
nuts than he usually was on any given day.  But sometimes I 
would catch him looking at me.  His expression would be 
sad, or wistful by turns.   If I caught him at it, he 
always looked like he wanted to say something, but he never 
did.

He was rarely openly affectionate with me.  The kiss on the 
forehead had taken me by surprise.  He must have really 
been happy to be bold enough to do that.  Those touches 
usually only came in times of sorrow and great need or 
illness.  Why was that anyway?  Was that the only time we 
felt we had a right to touch each other?  No.  It was the 
only time I felt I had an 'excuse' to touch him.

Did I need one?  He was my best friend after all.  I 
shouldn't be afraid to touch him, but ... I was.  Why?  Who 
am I kidding?  I know why.  I'm afraid to touch him because 
if I do, he will touch me back.  He's a much more tactile 
person than I am.  I know he holds back out of respect for 
my boundaries.  But if I touched him, it would be 
permission to be touched back.  And I know in my heart what 
his touches will do to me if they last more than a couple 
of seconds.  I've felt it.   I've felt that sizzling 
tension between us before.  

So many times, I've come close to giving in to the urge to 
curl up into his warmth and take solace.  In his hallway 
when he thought I was going to leave him.  He looked like 
he'd had his heart ripped out.  He was going to kiss me 
then, I know it.  I felt the soft brush of his full lip and 
then ... that damned bee.  What the hell?  I'd replayed 
that near kiss in my mind a thousand times.  

What was his intent?  To merely make me stay?  Or was there 
more to it?  Was it something he wanted, and at that moment 
felt that he had nothing to lose?  Or was it just a ploy to 
get me to stay?  I know he would have done anything to get 
me to stay.  But in my heart, I also knew that he respected 
me way too much to use that sort of behavior as a tool 
against me.

So what was the bottom line?  

One, my partner excited me much more than I was comfortable 
admitting.

Two, my partner was a brilliant, kooky, intriguing, 
mysterious man.

Three, my partner was sexy as hell.

Four, my partner respected me and was my best friend.

Five, I was going to spend the weekend with him ... alone.  
I swallowed hard again.  

Bottom line, I was excited about it.  I could have him if I 
wanted him.  I knew I could.  All I'd have to do is make 
the first move.  He'd told me he loved me.  But he'd been 
in a drunken stupor from the drugs at the time.  I knew he 
loved me as a friend.  I also knew he was a normal, 
healthy, heterosexual male who hadn't gotten any in a long 
time.

Neither had I.  But it wasn't as simple as becoming lovers 
to relieve a need.  We had a lot at stake.  If we did this 
thing and it didn't work out, it could mean disaster.  It 
could spell the end of a beautiful friendship and the end 
of a spectacular working relationship.

On the other hand, I couldn't help but wonder what I was 
missing.  Some instinct told me that he would be a great 
lover.  I shivered again as I felt my nipples harden just 
at the thought of him touching me with those big hands.  

Shower.  I needed a shower.  I needed to pack.  And then I 
needed to think some more.  Was I ready to cross that line?  
Was I willing to risk what we had?  These were questions I 
needed to answer before I ran willy-nilly into a situation 
that had enormous potential to backfire.


PART 2 (NC-17)
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2001
11:00 PM

Holy Shit!  Scully agreed to go away with me for the 
weekend!  I couldn't believe it.  And there was no case.  I 
had just been using that for an excuse to lure her up 
there.  She called me on the case and ... she still agreed 
to go! This was something that romantically involved 
couples did ... went away for the weekend together.  It was 
an event in most relationships that marked an increase in 
commitment.  You had your first date, you dated, and you 
slept over at each other's places.  And then, you went away 
for the weekend together.

My relationship with Scully was anything but conventional.  
We had come together as wary adversaries.  We had 
progressed from aggravation and incredulity to respect and 
fondness.  Then we had moved on to tentative friendship.  
Later, a deep and abiding trust and close friendship had 
bound us together.

We had been there for each other through horrendous events, 
life altering events.  We'd both had our faiths and beliefs 
shaken, stirred and put back together again.  We'd lost our 
idealism.  But our friendship and respect and trust for one 
another had survived, although all those things had been 
severely tested.

We had touched before, hugged and comforted each other on 
several occasions.  We had given comfort kisses on the 
forehead to one another.  We had cried with each other.  We 
even held hands a time or two.  But it was always in 
response to a traumatic event.  I almost kissed her when 
she was going to leave me, in my hallway.  I'd felt my lips 
brush hers, feather light, and then that damn bee had stung 
her and almost tore my world to shreds.

Then there was that lame kiss on New Year's Eve.  I'd had 
to do it.  I had to know what she would do.  She didn't 
stop me.  She didn't push me away.  But she didn't 
encourage me either.  One little indication and I would 
have swooped and devoured, despite my wounded arm.  But 
there had been none.  She had stood placidly, her eyes 
closed and let me do it.  And that was all.  I think I 
adequately hid my crushing disappointment when she didn't 
respond to me.

Like most things, I wrote it off as just a New Year's kiss 
and never mentioned it again.  Neither did she.  We were 
the King and Queen of denial.  There was something between 
us.  Something fierce and arousing that bred unshakable 
loyalty to one another.  She was essential to me.  And I'd 
like to think that I was essential to her, although I 
question that on a daily basis.  She's never said one way 
or the other what I really mean to her.

I tried to tell her after I was unceremoniously dragged out 
of the freezing water of the Burmuda Triangle.  Hypothermic 
and my head swimming with drugs and visions of a 1939 Dana 
Scully in my arms, I'd proclaimed my love for her.  Stupid 
move.  She'd dismissed me out of hand and nearly laughed in 
my face.  I'd shrugged it off at the time, the drugs 
helping immensely to block my broken heart, but I'd been 
devastated later when the reality had hit me.

She'd said, 'Oh, Brother', as if it was the most ridiculous 
thing I could have said.  And she'd walked away, like she 
did in so many of my nightmares, leaving me alone, as 
always.

She always came back though and that had to mean something.  
I was too close to her, to the situation.  I had too much 
of an emotional vested interest in the outcome to be able 
to look at our relationship objectively, or to adequately 
figure out her reactions.  Besides, profiling Scully seemed 
like the worst kind of invasion of privacy.

But when she'd come to me, sweaty and disheveled from 
Africa, having found our holy grail, she'd been weak with 
relief to find me alive.  I could feel it.  And she touched 
my head and my arms and begged me to hold on.  I could hear 
her, although she didn't know it.  I could read minds then, 
sense emotions, but I couldn't speak.  And I'd felt her 
unconditional acceptance and love for me flow over me like 
a warm blanket.  She's never said the words.  Maybe she 
never will.  But I'd felt them.  I also sensed that she 
hadn't put a name to those feelings.  She didn't know what 
she felt for me at the time.  She only knew that if I 
should die, she would be devastated.  I took heart in that.

As usual, after the whole ordeal was over, I began to doubt 
what I'd sensed and felt and heard from her mind.  Perhaps 
I had put a name to those feelings, the name I WANTED to 
put on those feelings.  Because I didn't doubt my own.  I 
knew I loved her.  I knew I was in love with her like I'd 
never been in love with anyone.  And I knew a fierce, 
protective, strong and abiding love for my partner as a 
colleague, as a friend, as a companion, a scientist, and 
most of all, as a woman.  I loved the woman, Dana Scully, 
not just the partner, Scully.  

She called me mercurial, but her moods were just as abrupt 
and changeable as mine, they were just different moods with 
different triggers.  She was enigmatic and mysterious in 
some ways.  In other ways, she was as predictable as rain 
after the sight of black clouds.

Her mind was predictable, but her heart?  Ah, her heart was 
a vast labyrinth of mystery.  A mystery that I really had 
no hope of ever figuring out.  But that was what made her 
so intriguing.  It was what kept me coming back to her 
light, like a moth to a flame.  I knew I could get burned, 
and burned badly.  But I was helpless against the draw of 
her pure motives, her unconditional friendship, and her 
belief in spooky old me.

So now, she was going away with me to my father's home for 
the weekend before the start of a case.  Oh boy.  What did 
it mean?  Did it mean anything at all?  We were friends 
after all.  And I'd wrapped my invitation in a gift wrap of 
opportunity to get away and relax.  This was something 
neither of us got the chance to do very often.  She had 
vacationed a couple of times since our partnership began.  
Christmas' with her family, a certain trip to Maine one 
year that turned into a working holiday.  

And other than taking off to parts unknown to search out a 
hunch about my sister and one trip of Graceland, I hadn't 
had a vacation in over seven years.  But that ill fated 
trip to Graceland.  She had gone wild that time in 
Philadelphia, without me.

She'd gotten a scratched face, burned hands, a black eye 
and a tattoo for her trouble.  But she had been more 
mysterious and beautiful to me than she had ever been upon 
her return.  And she had told me that not everything was 
about me.  Clearly, I had overstepped my bounds of what I 
could expect from her.  I had taken her for granted.  And 
my heart paid the price.  I was twisted with jealousy and 
rage over her indiscretion.  At the same time, it made me 
want her more than ever.

So now I had to take her away with me and I had to NOT read 
anything into this.  It was going to be hard.  I wanted so 
much for this to mean something.  I wanted it to mean that 
her barriers were softening toward me.  I wanted it to mean 
that she wanted something other than friendship from me.  I 
wanted it to mean that I had a chance of someday hearing 
her say that she loved me.  But I knew with resigned sense 
of fatality, that all this was just that.  What I wanted.  
What I wished.  Wishful thinking.

I packed steadily as these thoughts ran through my head 
that evening.  Despite my intellect telling me not to get 
my hopes up, I felt hope and excitement flare in my chest.  
Dana Scully was going away for the weekend with me, ... 
alone with me for the weekend.

I jumped when the phone rang, startling me out of my self-
absorbed revelry.  I snatched up the receiver off the 
bedside table.

"Mulder."

'Mulder, it's me.'

"Oh, hey, Scully.  What's up?"

'I was wondering if I should bring some things.'

"What do mean?"

"Should I bring candles?"

"Candles?"

"In case the power goes out."

I laughed.  "It's not a cabin in east Podunk, Scully.  It's 
a fully equipped house.  Even has indoor plumbing for your 
bathing pleasure.  But if you want to bring candles, you 
can, or we can buy them there.  I wouldn't mind sitting 
around with you by candlelight."

She chuckled.  'Oh.  Sorry.  Um, should I bring a 
backpack?'

"If you want.  Again, we shouldn't need it.  If we go 
hiking, it won't be an all day affair, unless you want it 
to be.  I can always pack a lunch in a small cooler or 
basket or something."

"Are you taking me on a picnic lunch, Mulder?"

"I'll take you on whatever you like, Scully."

There was a pregnant beat of silence.  She cleared her 
throat.  "So I've packed sweaters and sweatshirts, jeans, 
wool socks and hiking boots, even a winter jacket just in 
case.  Can you think of anything else I should bring?"

"Just your pretty, little fanny."

'Mulder!'  She sounded exasperated but amused.  At least 
the comment didn't piss her off.  It was rather juvenile 
and not something I would normally say.

I laughed a little.  I couldn't help it.  "You might want 
to pack some jammies.  I don't know what you usually wear 
to bed, but it can be cool at night in the fall there, 
although I can always crank the heat up."  I bit my lip as 
I realized how that could sound if taken the wrong way.

She ignored the possible double meaning as usual.  "I have 
some warm jammies.  Good.  I guess that's it then.  I'll 
see you in the morning."

"O.K.  Hey, Scully?"

I was a little startled at how low and gravel my voice 
sounded when I spoke.  "I'm really glad you agreed to go.  
I'm ... really looking forward to this."

There was another beat of silence and then she said, "Me 
too, Mulder.  Me too.  Good night."

"Night, Scully."  I hung up the phone and zipped my 
suitcase, my packing complete.  I'd managed to get 
everything into one oversized suitcase and one duffel bag.  
I walked them out and set them by the door and undressed 
down to my boxers.  I looked at the couch and decided I 
wanted to sleep in the bed tonight.  I wanted to get a good 
sleep and having just heard her voice, I didn't feel so 
lonely as I usually did.  I slept on the couch often 
because I didn't like going to an empty bed, or waking up 
in one.  If I slept on the couch, somehow it wasn't so bad.  
It was like I just fell asleep watching TV and didn't have 
to face the large, King size bed with no one in it to greet 
me.

I shrugged, shucked off my boxers and crawled between the 
cool sheets, shivering slightly as I squirmed to try and 
warm them up.  My eyes drifted closed and as usual, visions 
of Scully skittered across the back of eyelids.  Scully 
with her lips pursed in annoyance.  Scully with her eyes 
sparking with blue flint in anger.  Scully smiling that 
full smile that made my chest tighten to the point where I 
couldn't breath.  Scully's soft lips pressed against my 
forehead, her hands on my face.   

I felt my dick harden and slid my hand down to the inside 
of my thigh, teasing the hair there and feeling warmth rush 
into my groin.  I moaned lightly, giving in to the nightly 
ritual.  I cupped my balls gently and fondled them, feeling 
myself rise to fully erect.  

I pictured her flushed and angry, red rising up her chest 
and face.  That angry flush I'd seen so many times 
transformed and before my mind's eye was an aroused Scully.  
She panted gently, her eyelids drooped with lazy arousal.  
Her stormy blue eyes clouded with desire.  I imagined the 
feel of her lips against mine. 

I began stroking myself lazily but firmly.  I imagined the 
feel of her silky skin against my chest and groaned as I 
stepped up my pace. My index finger pressed harshly below 
my head on that sensitive spot with every stroke.  Her lips 
... I could imagine them wrapping around the swollen head 
of my cock.  Her tongue swirling over the sensitive skin.  
Oh, this was so good.  I swear I could actually feel her 
suck on me as my imagination took flight.  

I felt my balls coil suddenly and release in a fast, 
furious orgasm that left me spent.  I panted and reached 
for the tissues on the bedside table to clean myself up.  
Maybe now I would be able to sleep.  I looked at myself in 
the mirrors above the bed and talked to myself.  "You're 
one sorry son of a bitch, you know that?"

I closed my eyes and fell asleep within minutes.

XXXXXXXXXX
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2001
12:30 PM

I'm going away for the weekend with Mulder.  Oh my God.  
What did I say to him by agreeing to do this?  I mean, he 
could take it entirely the wrong way and think that I 
wanted to advance this relationship beyond the point where 
it is now.

Do I?  Why did I accept?  I knew before I said yes that it 
was a dangerous thing to do.  And not because I fear that 
he will do anything that I didn't want him to do.  In fact, 
I'm not even afraid he'll make a pass at me.  He respects 
me too much and I've given him no reason before now to 
believe that I wanted anything else.

What am I afraid of?  Why am I so nervous?  It's just 
Mulder.

Nothing about Mulder or what I do with Mulder is JUST 
anything.  Everything we do and say is laden with multiple 
meaning and levels of importance.  We each chose the 
definition and meaning that we were the most comfortable 
with and ran with it.  We ignored the rest.  I have to be a 
fool not to recognize the incredible chemistry we have 
together.  The near eerie ability we have to know what the 
other is thinking.

But that's just it.  I know what he is thinking, but rarely 
do I get a glimpse of what he is FEELING.  He has that 
blank mask that he slips so easily into to place to hide 
his heart from me.  Sometimes I am grateful for it.  At 
other times, if I am honest, it hurts me.  He trusts me 
with his life, but not with all his feelings.

But then again, 'Hello pot, this is the kettle!' Was I any 
better?  Did I ever pontificate on what things make me 
feel?  Rarely.  We have seen each others' hearts on the 
rare occasion when the pain or the fear was just too much 
bear and we didn't have the energy or the stamina to 
continue hiding it.  On those occasions we had fallen into 
each other's arms like long lost lovers, reveling in the 
feel of safety and security that comes from knowing you are 
loved and cherished.

Loved?  Does he really love me?  He tried to kiss me once 
but I convinced myself that it was only because he was 
desperate to make me stay.  He said he loved me once, but 
he was so drugged up, I couldn't allow myself to believe 
him, lest I get my heart broken when he sobered up from his 
drug induced giddy euphoria.  I viewed it much like you 
view the declaration of a happy drunk who loudly declares, 
'I love you, man, really I do.'

I viewed it with a combination of amusement, sadness, and 
acceptance.  But I didn't take him seriously.  But the 
things he has done for me are certainly above and beyond 
the call of duty.  He's saved my life more times than I 
care to count.  He's infuriated me with his alpha male 
protective bullshit.  He's been tender and comforting when 
I was battling my own demons after the whole Phaster 
shooting fiasco.  But what does that really mean anyway?

I've done the same things for him.  So I guess if I figure 
out why I did these things, I might have my answer as to 
why he did those things.  Am I brave enough now to really 
look at that?  I think I have to whether I am ready or not, 
because I don't want to make a fatal mistake in this 
relationship.  It's too important to me, to my survival, to 
my sense of who I am.

When did that happen?  When did I begin measuring my 
success in life by the amount of praise and acceptance that 
I received from him?  That wasn't very healthy.  I knew I 
was generally a strong person.  I knew that I could easily 
sublimate my independence to him if I let go of the tight 
grip on my emotions.  Would that be such a bad thing?

He would never harm me on purpose.  This I know.  But he 
has the potential to utterly destroy me emotionally without 
even meaning to.  I know this too.  So what does that mean?  
How can someone have that sort of power over you and only 
be 'a friend'?  Is that even possible?

The answer is 'No.'  Mulder is much more than a partner to 
me.  He is my other half, a part of me.  I felt that he 
balanced my character defects.  We were each other's polar 
opposite, but somehow instead of creating conflict, that 
created a balance and a flowing synergy between us that 
allowed us to operate as a team like a well oiled machine.  
At work it is undeniable, our ability to look at all sides 
of a thing has given us the highest solve rate in the 
Bureau on cases that no one else even wanted to attempt to 
figure out.  What could we do with normal cases?  Would 
there be anything, between the two of us, that we couldn't 
figure out?  I doubted it.

So then why is this so hard to figure out?  Why can't we 
figure out each other.  Because we've talked about cases.  
Because we've talked about theories.  Because we've talked 
about evidence and fit the puzzle together.  Ahh, but the 
puzzle of US.  That, we never talk about.  Why?  Fear, 
plain and simple.

What am I afraid of?  Like I thought before.  I know that 
he would never do anything that I didn't want him to do.  
I'm afraid of myself.  I'm afraid I will make a pass at 
him.  I'm afraid, being alone with him for an entire 
weekend, will be more than I can resist.  I'm afraid that I 
will break down my carefully constructed walls I have built 
against him and lose my control.

And what would happen if I did?  Aren't we good enough 
friends to weather the end of an affair, should it come to 
that?  No.  Once we take that final step across the line of 
human relationships and become intimate, there will be no 
going back.  No going back to being friends would ever be 
enough.  I know it.  I'd bet that he knows it too.

It could make us better.  It could destroy us.  But only if 
we let it.  An intimate relationship would require an 
enormous effort on both our parts to communicate better.  
We communicate just fine on the job.  But that talent would 
have to be released upon our personal lives.  Could I do 
that?  Yes, I think I could.  It wouldn't be easy.  
Expressing my feelings has never been easy.  But I think it 
wasn't easy because I was always afraid of being hurt.  
Always afraid that someone would use those emotions against 
me.  I knew in my heart that Mulder would never do that.  

I would never do it to him either, because I love him.  

Oh lord.  Did I just think that?  Shit.

I love him.  I do love him.  Oh God.  Why didn't I realize 
it before?  Too busy hiding behind the walls, that's why.  
And with sudden clarity I realized why I have done all the 
things I have for him, things that were against my nature.  
It's because I love him.  And I know that the door must 
swing both ways.  The extraordinary things he has done for 
me are because he loves me.  And he could no more face life 
without me than I could without him.  What is that but 
love?

He feels my pain.  I feel his pain.  What is that, but 
love?  I have panicked and felt devastation every time I 
have thought that I was going to lose him to death. What is 
that, but love?  Railing against my helplessness in the 
face of his impending demise, what is that, but love?

I've been a complete and utter idiot.  Whew, that's 
something I never thought I would admit.  Me, Dana Scully, 
and emotional idiot.  Yes folks, there you have it.  So 
what now?

So I realized these things?  Did that mean I was ready to 
act on them?  Did it mean that he was ready to act on them?  
He'd invited me to go away with him for the weekend.  Why 
had he done that?  Just to spend time alone with me?  He 
could do that here.  Who am I kidding?  It's not the same 
and I know it.

I laid down on the bed, naked, my mind spinning with all 
the implications of this weekend.  Without thought, my 
hands slid to my breasts, kneading them gently, grasping 
the nipples and rolling them into tight little buds.

I moaned softly, feeling the familiar tingle between my 
legs.  One hand slid down my abdomen and caressed the 
inside of my thigh, teasing myself.  Oh man, I could 
picture it, his hands, twice the size of mine, gliding my 
inner thighs, feeling his rough calluses on my tender skin.  
I shivered and felt my labia grow moist and swollen, 
swallowing the resulting moan.  

My fingers slid up to rub up and down against my lips in an 
effort to relieve the slight ache that had began there at 
my juncture.  His lips, I could imagine them sucking my 
nether lips between their plump fullness.  His rough tongue 
lapping at my sex, swallowing my excitement for him.  Damn, 
I wasn't going to do this again.  I wasn't going to 
fantasize about him again.  I couldn't help it.

I resigned, sighed and rolled over to open the draw on the 
nightstand.  I pulled out the long, smooth vibrator, Seven 
inches long and 1-1/2" wide hunk of plastic that would 
provide me with enough relief to sleep.

I turned it on low, the gentle hum filling my ears as I 
rubbed it lightly over my clitoris, shuddering at the 
vibrations.  I tipped it inside, holding my labia open and 
pressing it inside.  I was so wet, it slid in without 
resistance and I pressed it in until just the last inch was 
peeking out.  I rolled onto my stomach, one hand pinching 
my nipple, the other working the vibrator slowly in and out 
from between my legs.  My face was mashed into the pillow, 
my breathing accelerating as I tipped it forward toward the 
front, searching for the elusive G-spot that would send me 
spinning to a quick conclusion.  

I could imagine his hard chest pressing against my back, 
his large hands kneading my butt cheeks.  Or what would it 
be like to straddle him and ride him fast and deep, 
watching his face transform into expression of passion I'd 
imagined so many times before.  What would he look like 
when he had an orgasm?

I sped up my ministrations, using my fingers to let the 
vibrator slide out on its own and push it back in.  The 
palm of my hand fell to my pubic bone, crushing my clit 
against the humming vibrations and hard, warm plastic 
pulsing between my legs.  Those lips, I could picture them 
suckling my tits, those green eyes flashing with desire.

That's it.  Waves of pulsing pleasure rolled through me and 
I let them come, succumbing to the contractions of my womb 
and the unbearable tightening of my nipples.  I shouted, 
"Oh God, Mulder, please!"  

I slumped in defeat, yanking the plastic from between my 
legs and twisting the end to shut it off.  I stared at it 
for a moment before addressing the inanimate object.  
"You've been great, but I'm sorry, there's no substitute 
for the real thing."  

I sighed and grabbed a tissue to clean off the vibrator.  I 
got up and ran a washcloth under hot water in the sink, 
cleaning myself up.  No sense waking up sticky and nasty.  
I was bone tired now.

I went back to the bed, my feet dragging on the carpet and 
crawled under the sheets.  I grabbed my extra pillow, 
embracing it with both arms, setting my chin on the top of 
it.  I closed my eyes, pretending he was there, pressed 
against me, and fell asleep at last.


PART 3 (R)
GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT
FOX MULDER'S HOUSE
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2001
4:00 PM

I'd picked her up shortly before 8:00 AM.  The eight hour 
drive had been surprisingly pleasurable. It was usually a 
drag, but then, the other times I'd made this trip, I had 
been alone.  We took turns driving, stopped for lunch and 
ate it in the car as we continued on.  She'd brought two 
suitcases.  I'd almost laughed, knowing that she was 
usually such an economical packer.  She'd defended herself, 
saying that on business trips, she knew what she was going 
to need.  For this trip, she didn't. 

I wanted to make a quip about making more room by leaving 
her pajamas behind, but decided against it.  No need to 
make her uncomfortable before we even got there.  I didn't 
want her to think that making a pass at her was the 
intention of this trip.  I didn't want her to think I 
invited her for the sole purpose of getting her alone and 
jumping her.

Was that the reason I'd invited her?  No, it wasn't. I'd 
invited her spur of the moment, never expecting that she 
would accept.  I'd thought about inviting her up here many 
times, but never had the guts.  The case was so close 
though and I found I couldn't resist.

And now, here she was, sitting placidly in the car next to 
me, like so many other times.  Only this time, we were 
going to my house.  I still had a hard time thinking of it 
as my house.  My father had purchased it and moved in 
shortly after the divorce.  I'd rarely been here when he 
was alive, or since he was dead, maybe once a year for the 
obligatory familial visit.

We would have dinner, stumble through stilted conversation 
and end up leaving things as awkward as they had ever been 
between us.  We avoided the subject of my work and 
obsession like the plague and never mentioned my mother or 
her welfare.  It was as if we knew instinctively that these 
topics were taboo for us and would lead to nothing good.

Now he was gone and I was his sole heir.  He'd left me this 
house.  My mother had left me the house on the Vineyard and 
a summer cottage in New Hampshire.  I had sold the cottage, 
but kept these two houses.  I still wasn't sure why.  Maybe 
in the back of my head I had imagined a future with a wife 
and kids and a place to go and settle down. 

I remember telling Scully when we were in Home, 
Pennsylvania, that if I was to settle down it would be in a 
place like that.  That was a bit of a fabrication.  I would 
have to be closer to civilization.  But Greenwich was a 
heavily populated area, but with cul-de-sacs of privacy, 
much like where this house stood.  Scully didn't know about 
the 28 foot cabin cruiser I had docked in Norwalk at the 
marina either.  Another gift from dear old dad.  I'd never 
felt the need to share these things with her.  I was almost 
embarrassed by my wealth and that of my family at times.  
I'm not sure why, maybe because I knew her family grew up 
struggling to support four kids on a military salary.  

I knew Dana wouldn't have held that against me or 
automatically thought I was a snob because of it.  I'd gone 
to Oxford for Christ's sake and not on a scholarship.  She 
had to know that was hefty chunk of change.  But I guess I 
felt the trappings of wealth represented a false image of 
my family that I had never been comfortable with or 
subscribed to.  I felt that my father's money was blood 
money, ill gotten through his nefarious career with the 
Department of Justice. 

My mother's family had been wealthy.  She had given them 
their start.  My father had lived the American dream, 
married into money and made his own fortune with what seed 
money had been gifted to him by his father in law.  Of 
course, bribes and payoffs from the shadow government and 
the Department of Justice hadn't hurt his bank account 
either.

But it had cost us Samantha.  I knew in my heart, that 
aliens or no, he was the cause of her abduction.  He had 
allowed it.  He had condoned her being taken as insurance 
against an invading alien race and their shadow conspiracy 
cohorts.  It ensured that he would keep his mouth shut.  

And he did, for over 40 years.  Then one fateful night, he 
opened his mouth ... to me.  He was going to tell me of his 
horrid participation in a cover up so massive and gruesome 
that it was mind boggling.  I sensed it.  And he had broken 
the rules.  Those bastards had known of his plan to spill 
the beans to me and had sent their dapper little assassin 
to his home and killed him in the bathroom while I waited 
ignorantly in the living room.  I suppose that there was 
justice in my being able to enjoy the fruits of their labor 
and misfortune.  

I shook my head to clear it of these memories as I pulled 
into the driveway.  The driveway was a long one, heading 
straight onto the property for about a quarter mile and 
ending in a circular drive at the front of the house.   A 
fountain in the center of the top of the drive sported a 
water sprite carrying a jug that spurted water down her 
body and into a basin.  It was silent and empty now and 
hadn't been used in years.  

The grass was neatly mowed and trimmed and I was sure the 
inside would be clean.  I paid someone to mow the lawn and 
plow in the winter.  And I kept a paid housekeeper who came 
every week to dust and vacuum.  I had called her from the 
car to let her know that I was coming, ... with a guest and 
she assured me that all was well and she would be there 
when I arrived that afternoon.  I told her that wasn't 
necessary, but she'd insisted.

I'd known her for years and we had become friends by 
telephone since my father had passed away.

Scully's eyes went wide as we approached the circular drive 
and I slid the car to a stop before the front stoop.  The 
large wrap around porch with Greek white columns was 
impressive, even to me.  The large mahogany front door 
swung open before I even exited the car and popped the 
trunk.

Jodie Hallman, the housekeeper, came tripping down the 
stairs a wide smile on her face.  She was a woman in her 
late forties who had worked for my father for nearly ten 
years before his death.  She wrapped me in a tight embrace 
as Scully looked on.  She was a tall woman with long 
brunette hair pulled back into a ribbon.  It was showing 
shots of gray here and there. She had laugh lines around 
her eyes and affectionate grin on her face.

"Fox, oh it's so good to see you!"

I jerked my head up when I heard Scully mumble, "I'll bet."

I caught her eyes and she looked embarrassed and quickly 
looked away.  I disentangled myself from Jodie's embrace.  
"Good to see you too, Jodie.  How have you been?"  

My eyes kept straying to Scully, wondering what was wrong.  
She was smiling, but it was her 'phony' smile, the one she 
pasted on to cover up anger.  "I've been good, Fox, how 
about you?"

"All right, I guess.  Jodie, this is my ... very best 
friend, Dana Scully."

Jodie spun on her heel and stuck out her hand to Scully.  
"Oh, so good to meet you.  I've heard so much about you 
over the years!"

Scully jerked an eyebrow into the air.  "Is that so?"

She shook Jodie's hand and I watched as Jodie's smile 
faded.  "Yeah, uh, he calls now and again to give 
instructions on the upkeep here.  He always talks about 
you."

"Jodie, that's enough," I warned.  Scully perked up then, 
out of her sullen mood that I hadn't understood.  Her radar 
went up and she realized the chance to get some information 
from this woman.

I cringed as I thought of all the things I'd told Jodie.  
I'd known her for years.  She'd been loyal to my father and 
didn't know about his extra curricular activities in the 
government and I'd never enlightened her.  She had always 
been a sympathetic ear and a safe one, being so far away.  
We'd been friends but most of that friendship conducted 
over the phone.

Scully asked, "He always talks about me, huh?  What does he 
say?"

"Jodie," I warned again.

She flashed an impish smile at me and I knew I was sunk.

"Darlin'," she exclaimed, her slight British accent coming 
through.  "You should hear him go on about how brave and 
brilliant you are.  He's told me about how you've saved his 
life and comforted him when he was down."

"Jodie, that's enough!" I nearly barked at her, trying not 
to get annoyed. 

She just smiled and continued talking.  Scully was smiling 
now, enjoying my discomfiture immensely. "And that's not 
all," Jodie said with a sly tone to her voice, also 
enjoying my upset.  It just made me angrier.

Scully beamed.  "Oh, do go on, please."  I could tell she 
was ready to bust and despite my worry that Jodie would say 
something inappropriate, I liked seeing Scully with that 
mischievous glint in her blue eyes.

"To be sure," Jodie quipped.  "He's also gone on about how 
drop dead gorgeous you are and how you turn all the men's 
heads wherever you go."

Scully's mouth dropped open now and I turned away, 
swallowing the sudden thickness in my throat.  Damn her!  
This was going to be awkward.  Now I did bark, unable to 
keep the anger out of my voice.  "Jodie, I said that's 
enough.  Now shut the fuck up!"

Both women spun to face me, surprised by my outburst.  I'd 
never talked to her that way.  She took one look at my face 
and cringed.  "Sorry, Fox. I'm ..."  She backed up.  "I'm 
really sorry, I was just ...  having a little fun."

I felt guilt crash down on my shoulders and I strode to 
Jodie in two long strides.  I wrapped her up in my arms, 
feeling like a real ass.  She tried to jerk out of my 
embrace but I held her fast.  The tears were swimming in 
her eyes.  I leaned down and whispered into her ear.  "I'm 
sorry Jodie.  I shouldn't have barked.  I'm sorry.  It's 
just, she doesn't know ..."

Her head jerked up to look me in the face.  I was realizing 
that Jodie was the only person I had ever told that I was 
in love with my best friend, my partner.  I'd never really 
thought about it before.  She was wide eyed and brushed the 
tears from her eyes.  I saw realization dawn on her an 
instant later.  She knew now why I was so upset.  I 
realized that the things I'd said may have led her to 
believe that Dana and I were involved.  Well, we were, but 
not the way that my confessions may have hinted.  She shook 
her head slightly.  "Fox, you're an ass, you know that?  A 
complete ass."  

She said this aloud.  And although I'd whispered, Scully 
had obviously heard me.  I let go of Jodie and turned as 
Scully asked, "I don't know what?"

I just looked at her,  "Later, Scully, O.K.?  Please, just 
let it go.  I'm sorry.  I don't want to start this weekend 
off on a sour note.  Let's just get our luggage inside and 
figure out what we are going to do for dinner.

Jodie spoke up again.  "I left a note on the kitchen 
counter so you would know where everything is kept.  I'll 
be going now.  If you need anything, give me a call."

She turned and headed toward the three car garage attached 
to the house.  Her mustang was parked there and she backed 
out, nearly pulling a donut as she peeled out of the 
driveway.  I hung my head, knowing that my apologies were 
not nearly over as far as Jodie was concerned.

Scully approached me with her no nonsense look on her face.  
"What the hell was that all about, Mulder?"  I glanced at 
her and then away again.  "Look at me, Mulder."

I forced myself to meet her gaze.  "I've known Jodie for 
over ten years.  We've become friends since Dad died."

"Some way to treat a friend, Mulder.  It's a wonder you 
have any left."

I hung my head again, swallowing and taking a deep breath, 
trying to regain my composure.  "I know.  I've never yelled 
at her like that."

"Why did you?  And look at me when I'm talking to you."

I lifted my head again and said, "I panicked."

"Why?"

"I've confided in Jodie over the years.  She was a good 
friend to my father, loyal, discreet.  She was always fond 
of me."

"I'll bet."

I heard the clipped tone of her voice and looked at her a 
little harder.  Could it be that she was jealous?  Naw!

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she said a little too quickly.

"Scully?  What is it?  Does it bother you that Jodie and I 
are friends, or that you didn't know that we were friends."

"You've never mentioned her, but that's beside the point.  
Don't try to side track me.  I'm the one asking the 
questions.  Now what just happened to set you off like 
that?  She was just teasing."

I filed away her response for later discussion.  "When it 
comes to you, I don't like to be teased."

She looked at me then and I saw something come over her 
face.  It was realization.  Realization of what, I'm not 
sure, but realization of something.  She looked like she 
did when a huge piece of a puzzle fell into place on a 
case.

Slowly, her voice softened now, she asked, "And why is 
that, Mulder?"

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly gone dry.  "I've 
confided things to Jodie.  She was a 'safe' ear if you know 
what I mean.  She was removed from my life, never 
intermingled with my friends in D.C.  And sometimes I 
needed to talk to someone and she was always there for me."

Scully nodded.  "You didn't answer my question."

"Can't we talk about this later, Scully?"

"No, we can't."  Her tone brooked no argument.

I sighed.  I decided to tell the truth, as little of it as 
I could get away with and not incriminate myself.  "I was 
afraid she would say something ... embarrassing to me, 
something maybe I'm not ready ... for you to know."

She looked at me then and I could see the hurt in her eyes.  
I was confiding in another woman, a friend she didn't even 
know existed.  Jodie was a friend that knew things that I 
didn't trust her with.  I could see all this in her face 
and I could see how it hurt her.

"I see," she said.

I put my hands on her shoulders and she cringed.  I didn't 
let go.  "Look at me, Scully."  Now who wouldn't look who 
in the eye?

She looked up, trying to mask her hurt but she couldn't.  
"It's not what you think.  There's no one I trust more than 
you.  You know everything important about me."

"Is that so?  Then if what she knows isn't important, why 
wouldn't you feel you could tell me."

"Because it's too personal."  Wrong thing to say.  She 
looked absolutely crushed.  "No!  Damn it.  I don't mean 
that the way it sounds."

She jerked away from my hands and circled to the trunk, 
making a lunge for one of her suitcases from the open 
trunk.  I followed her quickly and pushed it out of her 
hands, wrapping my arms around her from behind.  "Stop it, 
Scully.  Listen to me."

She struggled for a second or two and then went limp.  
"I've told her things about you, Scully, but not personal 
things you wouldn't want anyone to know.  I would never do 
that.  I've told her things that I ... feel for you."  

I paused trying to think of a way to put this without 
launching into a discussion we weren't nearly ready to 
have.  "You can tell this 'friend' how you feel about me, 
but you can't tell me?  What's wrong with that picture, 
Mulder?"

I sighed, pulling her tighter to my chest.  My lips dropped 
down to talk into her ear.  "I guess I should correct that, 
you're right.  But I'm afraid a lot of the time, Scully."

"Afraid of what?  Me?"

"No, not exactly you."

"Then what?  You aren't making any sense yet, Mulder."

I took a deep breath and decided there was no getting out 
of this the easy way.  "I'm afraid of what I feel for you, 
Scully."  She shivered in my arms.  I let my lips brush her 
ear, closing my eyes against the soft feel of her hair and 
skin on my face. 

"Mulder?  Let go."

I shook my head against hers, letting my lips brush the 
shell of her ear.  She swallowed a whimper and I felt my 
groin tighten against her rear end.  "No, you wanted an 
answer, Scully, you're going to get an answer.  You 
insisted.  Be careful what you ask for, Scully.  You may 
get it."

She squirmed slightly.  "Mulder, please!"

"Please what?" I asked, inflecting innocence into my voice.  
Christ, it felt so good to tower over her like this and 
feel her softness pressed against the length of my body.  I 
didn't want to let go.

"Let go, I'll let it drop now."

I ignored her and whispered into her ear this time.  My 
arousal found it's way into my voice despite my efforts to 
sound light and unconcerned.  "I feel a LOT of things for 
you, Scully.  But you're so ... distant with me sometimes.  
I'm afraid to tell you about them.  I need you in my life, 
Scully and I don't ever want to scare you away with what I 
feel.  Do you understand that?  So I've held back ... 
afraid of ... risking what we have.  Because what we have 
is precious to me."

Her head fell back against my chest and she relaxed into my 
embrace.  I sucked in a breath as her butt pressed into my 
crotch, feeling the blood drain from my head and make a 
quick trip south, stiffening me against her.  I heard a 
little gasp from her but she didn't move.  She was silent 
and we stood there for several long moments.  Finally, I 
said, "So if you were to find out how I feel about you ... 
I didn't want you to hear it from Jodie."

I loosened my arms and she tentatively stepped away, not 
turning to face me and dragged her suitcase out of the 
trunk without a word.  Without turning to look at me, she 
walked toward the porch.  I hoped I hadn't ruined 
everything.  Shit!  Why did this shit always happen to me?  
Why couldn't we just come here and have a nice weekend and 
enjoy each other's company?

Damn Jodie and her big mouth anyway.  I felt instantly 
contrite.  This was not Jodie's fault.  I should have sworn 
her to secrecy.  I knew she wouldn't betray me.  I should 
have told her before I came that she was not to repeat 
anything to Scully of what we had talked about, especially 
the last time.

Oh well.  I sighed and slung my duffel bag over my shoulder 
and yanked the other two suitcases out of my trunk.  I 
slammed it shut and followed Scully up onto the porch.  She 
had disappeared inside and I went through the door, kicking 
it closed behind me.  She was standing in the middle of the 
parquet floor of the foyer, staring up at the balcony above 
her head and looking at the staircase, first one side and 
then the other that ran up the walls.  A chandelier hung 
dead center over head in the cathedral ceiling.  I looked 
about, experiencing a slight sense of wonder that I owned 
this place.  

Finally, a low whistle came out of her lips and she turned 
to face me.  "Mulder, it's beautiful.  I had no idea the 
place was so ... big and so ... beautiful."

I chuckled.  "Dad never was one to deny himself much in the 
way of creature comforts, Scully."

She smiled at that.  "Now they could be your creature 
comforts."

"Nah.  I'd have to leave D.C., my job ... "  I paused.  
"I'd have to leave you Scully and I couldn't do that."

I thought I saw her eyes grow moist before she turned away, 
picking up her suitcase again.  "Where should I put this?" 
she asked, her voice a little less sure than it was before.

I went towards the stairs, laden down with our suitcases 
and my duffel bag and headed up the stairs.  Over my 
shoulder I said, "Follow me.  We'll get this out of the way 
and then I'll give you the dime tour."

PART 4 (R)
FOX MULDER'S HOUSE
GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2001
6:00 PM

Mulder had told me to go ahead and take a bath while he 
made dinner.  He had apparently instructed Jodie to stock 
the fridge and freezer and she had done just that.  The 
house was incredible.  It had a kitchen any chef would 
drool over with all the modern appliances.  The living room 
was decorated in various shades of white with deep pile, 
shag carpet and a fireplace on the side wall.  The dining 
room boasted a cherry dining set with exquisite dark cherry 
paneling and antique buffets.  Mulder had showed me to the 
guest room, one of three he said and I had marveled at the 
beautiful décor there as well.  It had pink shag carpet and 
a canopy bed, with an antique bureau and a lovely vanity 
desk with a lighted mirror.  

I had been hard pressed to keep my mouth from hanging open.  
I didn't want to appear to be a naïve hick, but God, I'd 
never known such beauty and luxury in a home before.  He 
was nuts not to want to live here.

He'd said he couldn't leave.  He said he felt things for me 
that he was afraid to express.  Did all that mean what I 
thought it meant?  Did it mean what I wanted it to mean?  I 
had realized that I had crossed a mental line somewhere and 
was thinking of him in a different light.  My utter 
acceptance of the fact that I wanted more from him was a 
little startling.  Shouldn't I be more upset about wanting 
that sort of thing from my partner?  Shouldn't I be more 
... something?

The feeling of calm acceptance about the strong emotions 
that were surging through me was a foreign thing.  I'd 
never felt so ... SURE ... of myself, so sure of how I felt 
before.  I was in love with him, there was no doubt about 
it.

The stab of horrendous jealousy that ripped through me when 
he embraced that woman had nearly taken my breath away.  
She was older than us by a few years, yes.  But she was his 
'type', or what I had come to think of as his type.  She 
was tall, brunette with a shapely figure and dark eyes, and 
rather well endowed in the chest area.  

I'd almost given myself away.  I had to him.  He'd seen it.  
Later, I'd been slightly embarrassed at my squeal of 
delight when I saw the enormous sunken bathtub in the 
master bath, that doubled as a Jacuzzi.  He knew how I 
loved my baths.  Mulder had laughed at my reaction, 
affection and amusement shining in his eyes when I'd turned 
to look at him.  I was hit with how utterly handsome and 
sexy he was, especially when he laughed.  It had been an 
effort to tear my eyes away from his face.  I got into that 
tub and stayed in there until my skin was pruned with 
moisture.  

I had dressed in a light pull over sweater and worn jeans 
when I heard a rap on the bedroom door.  "Come in."

He swung the door open and shook his head as he saw me 
heading for the vanity with a towel on my head and my make 
up bag in the other.  He strode to me and coaxed the bag 
out of my hand and set it on the vanity.  I looked up with 
him with a question on my face.  He smiled and reached up 
to pull the towel off my head.

My hair fell in damp waves around my face and down my neck.  
His fingers reached for my temples and plunged into my 
hair, smoothing it back away from my face.  I nearly 
staggered at the tingles that went shooting down my spine 
as the heat of his hands penetrated my scalp.  He didn't 
stop, just continued running his fingers through my hair 
slowly, until all the tangles were out.  My head was 
lolling around on my shoulder by then.  I was unable to 
keep from expressing how good it felt.  He was behind me 
when he finished and his hands dropped to my shoulders.  I 
tipped my head back into his chest, placing the crown of my 
head on his sternum and looking up into his smiling face. 

His voice was low and soft when he uttered, "Don't blow dry 
it.  I like it wavy."  He paused.  "Don't put make up on."

My look questioned him.  "It's just us, Scully.  Leave it.  
You don't need it."

I stood up and turned to face him.  "But Mulder, I'm used 
to ..."

He cut me off shaking his head, "Forget what you're used 
to.  You're here to relax and enjoy yourself.  There's no 
one to impress here."

I chuckled and couldn't resist teasing him.  "What if I 
want to impress you?"

He smiled a sly smile.  His thumb came up to brush across 
the mole above my lip and my hand flew to cover it up.  
"You'll impress me if you don't use make up all weekend."

"I hate that mole," I said, not really knowing why I 
blurted that out.

"I like it," he mumbled.

I looked up at him.  "Why would you like a mole, Mulder?  
They're hideous, especially to a woman."

He smiled another lazy smile.  "I love it because it's part 
of your face, Scully, part of you.  And I love your 
beautiful face.  I could stare at it all day."  This was 
said softly but with confidence.  Oh boy, was he pouring on 
the charm.  These were not things he ever said to me.  I 
felt myself grow warm under his unswerving regard.  

"It's still a mole, Mulder," I tried to sound flippant but 
it fell flat.  

"It's a beauty mark," he replied.

"Whatever, it's ..." 

I nearly yelped when he leaned over suddenly and pressed 
his lips over my mole, sucking gently before letting go.  
His voice was gravel when he said, "It's beautiful, I like 
it.  Dinner's ready.  Come on down."

He turned and left, leaving me standing there with my mouth 
hanging open, trying to regain my breath that was now 
panting out of my lungs.  My hardened nipples stung from 
their sudden inflation at the soft touch of his lips 
against my face.  He'd been so close to my lips.  His 
action was so out of character.  I hadn't been prepared.  I 
never thought he'd be bold like that.  Guess I'd opened a 
can of worms with the whole feelings thing, huh?

Time to pay the piper.  He was going to let me know, little 
by little.  He'd seen my hurt when I knew that he had 
confided in Jodie and not me.  And he was out to correct 
it, show me that he was willing to trust me, at least 
trying to trust me with his feelings.  Be careful what you 
ask for, Dana, indeed.  I was going to get it, and get it 
good.

I hoped I could handle it without making a complete ass out 
of myself.  I steadied myself and made my way downstairs, 
throwing my head back in a classic move of projecting 
confidence and strode into the dining room.  The smell of 
freshly cooked steak assaulted my nose and my mouth 
watered.  There were two steaks laid out on a platter, a 
bowl with four baked potatoes and a bowl with corn in it.  
The table was set with china and exquisite silverware.  The 
lights were out and two red candles burned in the center of 
the bowls.  The table was long and large.  He had set a 
place at the head of the table and another immediately to 
his left.  A candle light dinner.  Was he trying to be 
romantic or just playing because he could?

I was still staring at the set up when he entered with two 
wine glasses and an open bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, 
perfect with steak.  He grinned at me and set the glasses 
down, waving toward the chair at the side of the table.  I 
approached slowly as he poured the wine and placed one in 
front of each plate.  When I arrived beside him, he pulled 
out the chair and I sat.  He scooted me back up to the 
table and then sat himself. 

"Mulder, you didn't have to do all this."  My voice was 
barely above whisper, and I cleared my throat immediately 
afterwards.

He merely smiled at me.  "I know, I wanted to."

"I didn't know you could cook."

He laughed good-naturedly at that and reached for the steak 
with a fork, stabbing it and placing it on my plate.  He 
stabbed a potato and did the same and then spooned up some 
corn as well.  Then he turned to his own plate.  He caught 
me staring at him and said, "Eat, before it gets cold.  I 
did yours well done, the way you like it."

I picked up my silverware and began to cut up the steak, 
wondering how he knew that I liked my steak well done. It 
was perfect, cooked all the way through, no pink, but not 
burnt anywhere.  I salted it lightly and put a little 
pepper as well and put margarine on my corn and potato that 
I proceeded to empty out and mash into my plate.  He 
watched with amusement as I placed a dollop of butter in 
each half of the potato skins that I had carefully hollowed 
out, salting and peppering each with just a dash of 
condiment.  I looked up to see him grinning at me.

"What?"

His grin grew wider.  "I just love to watch you.  You are 
so ... precise about so many things."  I blushed and looked 
down at my plate, suddenly embarrassed.  He continued.  
"Don't stop on my account."  He started cutting up his own 
steak which I noticed was slightly pink in the center.

"You like yours medium?"  He nodded.  "How did you know I 
liked mine well done?"

He said, "How many times have we eaten together, Scully?"

"Countless, but we're usually on the road."

"Yes, we are.  But I pay attention when you order.  I know 
what you like."

"Why would you care what I like to eat?"

He looked up finished chewing a piece of meat.  Then he 
quipped, "In case I ever had the opportunity to try and 
please you with my secret knowledge."

I grinned and began eating.  "Oh this is delicious!"  I 
exclaimed.  He grinned and nodded.

"Glad you like it, eat up."

We ate in silence for a while and sipped our wine, 
occasionally peeking at one another and flashing smiles 
each other's way.  When we were finished, he told me to 
stay put and disappeared into the kitchen.

He returned with whipped raspberry cheesecake that melted 
in my mouth.  He admitted that Jodie had left that.  His 
culinary skills did not extend to baking.  I was absolutely 
stuffed at the end of it and collapsed back in my chair, 
groaning and holding my stomach.  He grinned at me and held 
out a hand, hoisting me to my feet.  We cleared the table 
and did the dishes, chatting about the case that was coming 
up on Monday.  

When we were finished, he turned to look at me.  He opened 
his mouth as if to say something but then closed it and 
just continued to look at me.  I became self conscious and 
asked him, "What, what are you looking at?"

"You, just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"  I knew that was a dangerous 
question.  I really had to get a padlock on my tongue.  Be 
careful what you ask for, Dana.

"I love this."

"What?"

He shrugged.  "Spending time with you outside work.  I love 
eating with you, relaxing with you, doing something as 
normal and mundane as the dishes with you.  It almost makes 
me think sometimes that we could be ... normal."

I chuckled and quipped, "We are a lot of things, Mulder, 
but normal isn't one of them."

He grinned then but there was a sadness behind it and I 
felt myself drawn to him.  He crossed his arms over his 
chest, leaning on the counter.  His black turtleneck was 
tucked into his worn, black jeans.  He was wearing black 
boots.  He looked dark and mysterious, a lock of his thick 
chestnut hair falling across his forehead.  God he was 
sexy, especially in a relaxed pose like this.

I stepped to his side and he unlaced one arm and held it 
out.  I hesitated but then stepped into him, pressing my 
front to his side and sliding my arms around his waist.  
His arms fell on my shoulders and curled around me, pulling 
my torso into his.  He surprised me again when he dropped a 
chaste kiss onto the top of my head.  He was so much taller 
than I was.  I forgot that sometimes.  I was always wearing 
three inch heels around him.  Now I was in my sneakers.  I 
felt his chest rumble against my breasts as he spoke again.

"I know we'll never be normal, Scully, not completely.  But 
sometimes I wish there was some ... balance in my life."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I run around chasing weird things all day, 
drowning in frustration and need that never gets fulfilled.  
Then I go home to an empty apartment and eat alone, wishing 
there was someone there to talk to about the events of the 
day.  I hate eating alone.  I hate watching TV alone, 
wishing there was someone to share it with, just simple 
things."

He paused and took a deep breath.  His chest was warm and 
seeping into my breasts.  The rumble of his chest as his 
baritone voice flowed out was lulling me into a dangerous 
state of relaxation.  "Most normal people have stressful 
jobs, and crazy careers, maybe not as crazy as ours, but 
crazy and stressful nonetheless.  But then they get to home 
to someone.  Have someone hold them at night ... kiss away 
the tension ... make love to them after a hard day."

I shuddered uncontrollably.  His words were hitting home.  
They were thoughts I'd had myself and dismissed as silly.  
I had chosen my path and I had too much pride to admit that 
it wasn't always enough.  I longed for those things too.  A 
sense of normalcy after a crazy day.  The comfort of 
companionship when I walked through the door at night. And 
yes, someone to make love to me.  It had been so long!  I 
snuggled closer to his side and he nuzzled the top of my 
head with his cheek.  "This is so nice, Scully."

"Hmmm?"

"Holding you, feeling you relaxed against me, sated from a 
good meal, nothing to do for the rest of the evening.  No 
pressing phone calls, files to read, nothing."

"We have files to read."

"Yup.  And we'll start that Monday morning.  From now on, 
no more talk of the case until Monday, O.K.?  We are going 
to forget that the FBI and D.C. exist and we are going to 
be normal for the next two days."

I chuckled.  "Define normal, Mulder.  Your idea of normal 
and mine might be two different things!"

He chuckled and I loved the sound of it.  "Let's go sit on 
the couch.  I'll build a fire, you can pour some more 
wine."

"O.K."  I slowly pulled away from him, missing the heat of 
his body, the imprint of it lingering on my body.  He 
smiled down at me and dropped another kiss on my forehead.  
I was surprised at my acceptance of this new level of 
connection.  We didn't usually touch this much, or kiss 
this much, even these chaste kisses he was giving me.  He 
was testing my boundaries, I knew he was.  Each time I 
didn't stop him or react badly, I was giving permission for 
him to escalate this 'thing' between us.  And I knew it.  
And he knew it.  He smiled gently and pushed away from the 
counter.  

I watched his jeans hug his thighs and ass as he walked 
away.  He was so graceful and comfortable in his lanky 
frame.  I retrieved the wine from the fridge and poured two 
more glasses.  I made my way into the living room in time 
to see him lighting the paper under the grate in the 
fireplace and standing to open the flu.  The smoke curled 
and was sucked up the chimney, the paper igniting the 
kindling he'd laid down and soon catching the wood.  A 
small blaze was going in no time.

I inhaled deeply, smelling the wood smoke.  "I love that 
smell."

"Hmm," he responded and sat down close to me on the couch 
and reclined a little.  He looked at me for all of two 
seconds and then scooted over and toed off his boots, 
leaning against the armrest.  I raised an eyebrow at him 
and he motioned me toward him.  I sat my wine down and toed 
off my sneakers, knowing I probably shouldn't get to 
comfortable with him.  Hugging him in the bright kitchen 
was one thing.  Reclining into his arms on the sofa in 
front of a fire was another thing entirely.  He pressed his 
hip to the back of the couch, making more room for me and I 
tentatively reclined against his arm, laying on my back.  
He adjusted again so he was laying on his side, his arm 
supporting my neck and I sighed as I looked over at him.

He was staring at me again and I couldn't continue to meet 
his eyes.  "Scully?"

"What?"  My voice was breathy and I cursed my traitorous 
body's reaction to being this close to him.  His hand slid 
across my abdomen, and his hand cupped my waist on the far 
side.  He hesitated but then let the weight of his arm fall 
onto my stomach.  He squirmed and snuggled in close.

"Tell me about something you want to do in your life that 
you've never gotten to do."  That wasn't what I expected, 
but I relaxed, knowing that he wasn't going to push this 
like I thought he might.

"Hmmm.  Let's see.  I've always wanted to go to New 
Orleans.  My father was an architecture buff, somewhat of a 
hobby for him.  He used to always talk about the beautiful 
architecture to be seen there.  He filled my head with 
stories of sultry summer nights and mansions in the Garden 
District.  He talked about Bourbon Street and the jazz 
there that was like no where else in the world.  He talked 
about the wonderful theaters and the churches that would 
take your breath away with their artwork and architectural 
splendor.  He made it sound like a wonderland for the 
senses."

Mulder nodded, causing his head to snuggle nicely into the 
groove between my shoulder and neck.  His hot breath bathed 
the skin of my neck and I felt my breasts grow heavy.  Good 
lord.  He wasn't even doing anything, just ... breathing on 
me and my body was reacting.  His voice rumbled out against 
my chest.  "Sounds wonderful.  We should go there together 
some time, take in the sights, stay in the Rue Royale, tour 
the French quarter."

"Have you ever been there?"

"Once.  Unfortunately, I was on a serial killer case during 
my early days with VCS and I didn't have time to really 
look around much.  Marti Gras was approaching and the 
authorities were terrified of the havoc this guy could reek 
in that atmosphere.  People could disappear for days during 
that time and no one would even be suspicious.  It isn't 
uncommon for people to get boozed and drugged up and 
disappear around that time.  They usually return a few days 
later, hung over and in need of a shower, but none the 
worse for wear.  But with a killer on the loose, it would 
be a perfect opportunity to snatch multiple people and no 
one would even miss them for several days."

"Is that what happened?"

"Naw.  I told them he wouldn't do that, take multiple 
victims in a short span of time."

"Why not?"

"I knew him, unfortunately.  My instincts and profile told 
me that he liked to play with his victims, terrorize them 
before he killed them.  He liked to keep them alive for 
several days, taunting them with their imminent death.  He 
would like to hear them beg for mercy."

I shivered and this time not from the warmth of his body.  
He grunted.  "Sorry.  Too much information.  Anyway, he 
wasn't a quickie killer, basically.  Snatching and killing 
quickly would have taken all the fun out of it for him.  As 
it was, we caught him two days before Mardi Gras and 
everyone was happy."

I nodded, not wanting to ask any more questions about that.  
"Sorry, I shouldn't have gone into that much detail."

"No, it's all right, but like you said, I'd like to leave 
work behind for a couple of days."

"Hard to though, isn't it?  It's such a part of our life."

"It is our life, Mulder."

He nodded solemnly.  I felt it against my shoulder and 
shivered again as his razor stubble abraded my skin.  His 
hand came up and he ran his thumb over my collarbone, his 
arm lying between my breasts.  This was so ... intimate, 
this position we were in.  It was starting to make me 
uncomfortable.  At the same time, I felt a trickle of 
excitement and seemed frozen in place.

He talked as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over my 
collar bone as if nothing unusual was happening and he did 
this sort of thing every day.  "What else?  What else would 
you like to have say, in the next five years."

"A house of my own."

"Like this one?  I'll give it to you if you want."

I laughed.  "What would I do with a house this size?"  The 
overwhelming thing was that I knew he meant it.  If I asked 
for it, he would sign this house over to me in a heartbeat.  
It meant nothing to him, all this splendor, and all this 
money.  God, I loved that about him.  He was not caught up 
the material world as most people were.  He didn't measure 
his success by the amount of toys he had.  In fact, he had 
very few toys, or so I'd thought before now.  I wondered 
what other surprises he had waiting for me in the future.  
He owned the house on the Vineyard too.

"You could live in it, raise a family here."  

I felt tears sting the back of my eyes.  A family, 
something I would never have.  Well, I had my family but I 
would never have one of my own, hear the pitter patter of 
little feet.  I swallowed thickly around the lump in my 
throat.

"You know I couldn't do that, Mulder."  I was hurt that he 
would tease me with that vision.

"Why not?"

"Why not?!" I nearly shouted, my voice laced with hurt and 
tears that I wished hadn't come through.  He squeezed me 
tightly with the arm around my shoulders and said.

"Hey, hey.  I didn't mean to hurt you.  I mean that, well, 
you could adopt children, Scully.  You were going to adopt 
... Emily."  He hesitated before saying her name.  "Why 
couldn't you adopt another?  Or two?  There are hundreds of 
kids out there that need love.  And you're the most loving 
woman I know.  You would be a terrific mother, Scully."

The tears I was trying so valiantly to contain fell then.  
I should have known he would never say something 
intentionally callous to me.  I'd jumped to conclusions 
again, my sensitivities overtaking me.  I knew 
intellectually that it was wrong.  But my inability to have 
children had severely damaged my ability to think of myself 
as a desirable mate or wife for any man.  I felt less than 
whole, less than complete, damaged goods.

He murmured in my ear, turning my body into his, and 
pressing my chest to his.  "Shhh, oh Scully, I'm sorry.  I 
shouldn't have brought that up.  I'm such an ass!  Don't 
cry.  Please don't cry."

I sniffled against him, letting the tears come and clinging 
to him with a fierceness I hadn't displayed in many years.  
He held me just as tightly and continued cooing in my ear.  
"Oh, Scully, I'm so sorry.  Shhh, forget what I said.  I 
hate it when you cry, but let it out.   You need to let it 
out.  You never have really, have you?"

I shook my head confirming his statement and let the sobs 
come.  He held me tightly pressed to his body.  He pulled 
up slightly on his elbow and tipped his body over me, one 
leg coming over mine to anchor me from falling off the 
couch and anchoring me to his body.  I felt surrounded by 
him and safe as I let the misery come as I never had 
before.  I had stuffed it down behind the anger and the 
useless rage and bitterness, never letting the loss of my 
womanhood really see the light of day.  I was afraid that 
it would utterly destroy me if I ever let it out.  

But I was letting it out and it was O.K.  It was O.K., 
because I was protected and safe and being shielded ... by 
Mulder.  He would always shield me if he could.  I could 
let it out here, safely with him wrapped around me and not 
fear that I would dissolve into nothingness.

The hard planes of his body reminded me that I was still 
here, still alive, despite my losses and my misery.  His 
fingers tunneled into my hair and he coaxed me to lie flat, 
propping himself on one hip.  His arms, relieved now of 
their previous duty of preventing me from falling off the 
couch, came up to furiously wipe the tears off my cheeks.  
I quieted some and sniffled, blinking rapidly, the hot 
tears still coming.  I stuttered, "Oh God, I'm sorry, 
Mulder."

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry for breaking down, sorry for being so morose when we 
are supposed to be relaxing and enjoying ourselves.  Jesus, 
I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for.  I'm flattered you are 
comfortable enough with me to let it out. I've been waiting 
for it for a long time."

"Waiting for what?"

"The explosion of all those suppressed emotions."

"Don't analyze me, Mulder."

"I'm not. I just knew you were hurting and I knew somehow 
that you'd never really given vent to your sorrow.  I just 
hoped that I would be there to catch you when it finally 
broke loose.  It was bound to someday."

I nodded and the tears dried up some.  He wiped them gently 
once more and let his body fall onto mine, covering one 
whole side of me.  I was immediately infused with his heat, 
the other side of my body cold and aching for that heat.  
He stared into my face.  I didn't know what to say.  I 
smiled an embarrassed smile.  "What are you doing, Mulder?"

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up 
slightly.  He whispered, "I have no idea."

I laughed then and he did too.  I tipped my head back 
looking at the ceiling and then squealed as I felt his lips 
touch my throat, and his tongue flick out to gently lap at 
my pulse.  He stopped, his hot breath bathing my neck 
again.  I was frozen.  He was waiting to see if I would 
stop him.  I should lower my head, I should not be exposing 
my neck in offering like this, but I couldn't move.  

After a few moments of silence, he slowly lowered his head 
to my neck again and began showering it with little kisses.  
Trailing his hot lips across my collar bone and up the 
column of my neck.  He moved on to the area under my ear.  
"Oh!" I breathed out when his tongue lapped at the tender 
area.  He slowly placed his lips around my earlobe and 
sucked gently, swirling his tongue over the small flap of 
flesh there.  I moaned as warmth flooded my abdomen and my 
nipples grew hard.  Jesus Christ!  What was he doing?  What 
was I letting him do?  Stop him, Dana.  Stop him.

His razor stubble raked across my cheek as he slid his head 
over my face and lifted just far enough to look into my 
eyes.  The question was written in every line of his face.  
He panted gently, his hazel eyes bright, his lids hooded.  
Desire, holy shit, that was a look of desire.  It hit me 
like a hammer blow.  He wanted me.  I knew it, sort of.  
But to see it was a shock.  He wasn't hiding it.  He wanted 
me.  He looked at me and saw a desirable woman. I was a 
little blown away by that.  I was damaged, I was not his 
type, and I was his partner.

He blinked slowly and as if he'd read my mind he said, 
"God, Scully, if I could describe my perfect woman, I just 
show people a picture of you."

I gasped.  "Per... hardly perfect, Mulder."

"To me you are," he murmured. 

He was still for a moment but then shifted again to cover 
the other half of my body, covering my torso with his as he 
centered himself above me and took his weight on his 
elbows.  His leg gently bumped mine, coaxing it to fall to 
the side and he let his weight down into the cradle of my 
hips.  We both moaned at the feeling of our pelvis' crushed 
together.  He was hot and hard and I could feel him pulsing 
right through his jeans and mine.  His eyes were closed.

"Scully?"

"What?"

His eyes opened.  "Can I kiss you?"

"You already did."

"No, that was just a ... nibble."

"Nibble?" I asked, having to suppress my urge to laugh.  He 
looked so perfectly serious.  Then he grinned.

"Can I give you a real kiss?"

"Real kiss?"

He nodded, not willing to drag out the teasing game.  His 
face grew serious and one hand came up to brush his fingers 
over my lips.  He murmured, "You're so beautiful, Scully.  
God, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

I shook my head, not really sure if I wanted to know in 
detail.  I could feel one detail pulsing against my belly 
and making my pelvis wash with moisture and ache for that 
little detail.  Well, not so little I realized as he slowly 
swiveled his hips and firmly pressed his entire length into 
my belly and ground himself into my juncture.  I groaned, 
"Oh God, Mulder."

"That's only part of what you do to me, Scully."

"What else?" Those words slipped out of my mouth before I 
could stop them.

"You can't see the other things, or feel them."

"Like what?"

"My heart racing, my chest getting tight, my mouth drying 
out like a desert."  He licked his lips then, never taking 
his eyes off me.  I could feel myself flushing from the 
chest up and tried to look away.  His hands captured my 
head and wouldn't allow it.

He head dipped down near my ear again.  "You don't see my 
panic every time I don't know where you are, Scully.  You 
don't feel my rage and jealousy every time another man 
looks at you like you are a meal.  You don't feel my 
stomach turn over every time you touch me."

He paused, his breathing heavy now.  "When you're hurt or 
injured or sick, you don't feel my agony knowing I might 
lose you.  But the biggest thing of all ..."

"What?"

"The worst thing I've hidden from you ..."

"Tell me," I whispered.  I didn't seem to be able to curb 
my curiosity at this point.  I wanted to know.  

"I hide how much you mean to me, Scully, afraid you don't 
feel the same.  I didn't want you to know how easily you 
could destroy me, how easily you could break my heart."

"Break your heart?" I whispered.

He took a huge breath and breathed into my ear, "I'm in 
love with you, Scully."  His voice vibrated deep in my ear.  
"That's the secret I didn't want Jodie to tell you.  I was 
waiting for her to blurt it out."

The words were tumbling out of him now, in a nervous 
fashion.  As though if he kept talking, he wouldn't have to 
face my response to his declaration.  My heart was slamming 
against my rib cage.  I couldn't see his face as it was 
buried in my hair, his lips to my ears.  "She's the only 
one I ever told.  I told her I was in love with you, 
Scully.  But I never told her you didn't know.  She 
thought, she thought we were couple.  And I ... I didn't 
disabuse her of the notion.  It was like ... talking to her 
I could pretend it was true.  I could pretend you were 
mine.  I wanted it so much."

He panted quickly a couple times as though trying to stop 
tears and then continued.  "I still do, Scully.  I still 
want it so much.  I'm sorry I hurt you earlier but I just 
imagined Jodie saying, 'He's told me how much he loves 
you.'"  He hiccuped, his chest rolling against mine.  "If 
you heard it from her, I would have died, and I knew you 
would have been so angry."

He slid his arms under my shoulders then and clutched me to 
him, letting his weight down on my body.  I sank into the 
cushions and held onto him tight.  As if of their own 
accord, my legs spread and came up around his waist.  He 
sunk against me, his erection still there through all his 
emotional turmoil.  He was apparently ignoring it, so I did 
too.  He cried softly against me for a few moments and then 
said, "Can you forgive me for telling her first.  I'm so 
sorry, Scully."

I was overcome with affection and love for him in that 
moment.  He practically worshipped me.  I was afraid 
someday that I would let him down.  That was one of my 
biggest fears, one of my biggest secrets.  I practically 
lived to make him feel safe and happy.  He calmed and just 
breathed gently against me.  I was warm now, a light sheen 
of sweat covering my chest and face.  I blew my bangs out 
of my eyes and he lifted his head.  His face was ravaged 
with a mixture of relief and fear.  I hadn't tossed him off 
my body yet, but I hadn't really responded yet either. 

He just looked at me, waiting.  For what, I wasn't sure.  
He swallowed and looked down then when I didn't respond.  
He flashed a look of annoyance, for himself I think and 
levered up onto his arms as though he would get off me.  He 
confirmed it by saying, "I better move.  I'm sorry, Scully.  
I shouldn't have ..."

I stopped him with a hand on the back of his neck. I tugged 
gently and his head came down to me.  My free hand slid 
around to his back and I pressed between his shoulder 
blades.  He tentatively lowered himself on top of me again, 
our groins still pressed together, my legs still around his 
waist.  He took a deep breath, just watching my face.  

I pulled him down and captured his bottom lip between my 
own.  I worried it gently with my teeth and then sucked 
firmly.  He groaned hoarsely and his mouth opened wide and 
covered mine.  His tongue pushed into my mouth and explored 
every corner.  I moaned into his mouth and he tipped my 
head for a better angle and deepened the kiss, playing with 
my tongue, lapping it and sucking on it.

We pulled away when there was oxygen left to be had.  His 
eyes were dark with arousal.  His pupils dilated and his 
mouth slack.  "God, Scully," he murmured.

I was struggling to get my breathing under control and 
pressed gently on his chest.  He quickly lifted off of me 
and swung around to sit on the couch.  His head flopped 
onto the back of the couch and he breathed heavily, his 
eyes closed.  "Mulder?"

"Yeah?" 

"Are you O.K.?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me.  
"Yeah, I'm sorry.  I got carried away."

"That's all right.  I let you."

He nodded.  "Are we O.K.?"

"Yeah, we're O.K.  I just, don't really know what to say 
right now."

He chuckled a bit.  "Me neither."

He frowned.  I spoke softly, incapable of anything else.  
"I've hurt you, haven't I?"

"What do you mean?  You've delighted me.  You just let me 
kiss you ... for real.  I never dreamed I'd get to do 
that."  He paused.  "Correction, I've dreamed about it a 
lot of times, but never expected it to ever happen."

I grinned then.  "It was ... extraordinary."

He focused on me again then, sharply, his eyes narrowing.  
"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

He smiled then.  "Does that mean I might get to do it again 
sometime?"

I laughed then.  "I'm sure you will."

He gave me the full blown Mulder grin then, teeth and all 
and I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time ... joy.  
I realized how good I felt about me when I made him happy.  
How happy could I make him if I let him touch me, skin to 
skin?  I shivered at the thought of it.  How happy would I 
make him if I let him make love to me?  I bit my tongue to 
keep from moaning.  He was staring off into space and then 
asked suddenly.

"When?"

"When?"

"Yeah, when will I be able to kiss you again?"

I laughed.  I couldn't help it.  He sounded like a school 
boy who before giving his first kiss asked, "Are you 
ready?"  I burst into giggles at that thought.  He grinned 
at my amusement and shook his head.

"I'm not sure, Mulder." I managed to choke out.

He nodded, his smile fading.  He nodded again.  "Maybe we 
should go to bed."

"It's early."

"I know, but if I sit here too much longer, I ..."

I understood.  I stood up.  "How about a short walk 
outside.  It's a beautiful night and I'd like to look at 
the stars."

"You want to look at the stars, Scully?"  He was obviously 
teasing.  "Don't you get enough of that during the week?"

I laughed again.  "Come on, get your coat."

He stood and I pretended not to notice when he winced and 
yanked on the leg of his jeans to give his groin more room.  
I smirked to myself and turned away, not wanting to 
embarrass him if he saw that I noticed.  Poor guy.  He was 
probably going to want to take care of that at some point.  
That thought made me grin.

He came alongside me and asked, "What are you grinning 
about?"

"Oh nothing.  Let's go for that walk."

He strode by me and grabbed our coats that we had hung in 
the foyer in the coat closet and he held mine up while I 
slipped my arms into it.  He shrugged into his leather 
jacket, looking for all the world, like a dark knight in 
his all black clothing and black leather bomber jacket.  He 
opened the door and ushered me outside.  He gave me a tour 
of the grounds, showing me the swimming pool I had failed 
to notice before.  It was buttoned up for the winter now.  
I wished it was summer and we could go swimming.  Would I 
be brave enough to wear a bikini in front of him?

I blushed, grateful for the darkness hiding my unwarranted 
thoughts and reactions.  He talked about the history of the 
place, the few times he'd been here with his dad, how Jodie 
had been so loyal to his father but untouched by his 
shenanigans in the government.  She was blissfully ignorant 
of her employer's shady activities.  I became grateful that 
she had been a friend to him when he needed one.  The way 
he spoke of her, she treated him more like a son, despite 
that she was probably only seven or eight years older than 
he was.  That was more of a relief to me than I was willing 
to cop to at that moment.  I would keep that little feeling 
to myself for now.

Just the thought that she would want to touch him had made 
me furious and green with jealousy.  But apparently my 
reactions had been for naught.  He had no interest in her 
that way, I could tell by the way he spoke of her. He 
respected her and appreciated her friendship but that was 
as far as it went.

Finally, the wind picked up and my nose was getting cold.  
I laughed when he pulled me to him and locked his lips over 
the end of my nose, bathing it with his warm tongue.  I 
wrinkled my nose in mock disgust and we'd laughed as we 
trotted back to the front of the house and stood on the 
porch gazing up at the stars.  The night was clear and cold 
and the sky was full of bright white lights.  He stepped 
behind me and wrapped his arms around me.  I sighed and 
relaxed back into his chest, enjoying just being with him 
like this.  I could get used to this, I thought.  I could 
get really used to this without much effort at all. 


PART 5 (PG-13)
FOX MULDER'S HOUSE
GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2001
9:00 AM

The sleep I got that night was sketchy at best.  I went 
over our conversation a hundred times, reviewing every 
facial expression.  I remembered every little touch, my 
thumbs on her collar bone, my lips on her neck.  She hadn't 
pushed me away.

I taken the risk of the century telling her that I loved 
her, afraid that I was moving too fast.  But the cat was 
out of the bag now and there was nothing I could do about 
it.  I had meant to ease into touching her more and talking 
to her more about what she meant to me, what she did to me.  
But one touch and I was lost, I wanted more.

How in the hell I managed to crawl off of her body after 
kissing her I have no idea.  I could have pushed.  She 
would have kissed me again I'm sure, but I didn't want her 
to regret anything later.  And she hadn't really responded 
to my declaration of loving her, just insinuating that she 
wasn't angry about the incident with Jodie.

Scully was still sleeping.  I had called Jodie a half an 
hour ago, knowing she was an early riser and apologized for 
yelling at her again and explained why I had flipped out on 
her.  She was amused at my mild deception of letting her 
think that I was already romantically involved with my 
partner.  All she said was, 'you always were a dreamer.'

I was too.  For all my dark corners, I had a whimsical side 
too, that allowed me to have an active imagination and very 
active fantasy life.  The problem was most of my fantasies 
included Scully.  As time went on, the fantasies weren't 
enough any more.  Now they definitely weren't.  I 
strengthened my resolve to go back to my plan of wooing her 
carefully, being gentle with my revealing of affection.  I 
loved to touch, I always had.  I was starved for it.  
Perhaps that was true because of how little I was touched 
as a child.  I really didn't know and didn't care.  But 
Scully wasn't so much of a tactile person.

But I wondered now if that wasn't a defense mechanism, 
removing herself physically from temptation, she kept 
herself safe from the tangling emotions that could ruin a 
career.  But she was softening, I could tell by the touches 
she'd already allowed.  Being away from D.C. was definitely 
a plus.  I wish we had a week here.  But Monday would come 
quickly.  I had two more days to try and continuing the 
'softening of Scully.'  I knew there was a soft, passionate 
woman under all that gloss and professionalism.  I just had 
to be patient.  I knew now that she was attracted to me.  
That thrilled me to no end.  But was there any more to it 
than that?

I had to believe there was.  Scully was not the type to 
have casual relationships.  She wouldn't have kissed me 
just for a physical thrill.  I know she wouldn't.  She 
would know it meant more to me than that and wouldn't use 
me that way.  Of that I was sure.  I would be dead from the 
waist down if I didn't find myself excited that she liked 
my body or what I might be able to do for her physically.  
But I wanted her heart.  I knew now that I needed it.

Before now, I had been too afraid to try and go for the 
gold.  But now, after last night, after that kiss, I felt 
confidence coming upon me.  I felt hope.  That was 
something dismally lacking in my life lately.  Yes, I felt 
hope and all that it could mean for a future for me, for 
US.

I wandered downstairs and began preparing breakfast.  About 
9:30 AM, she wandered into the kitchen, looking adorable in 
an oversized plaid flannel shirt and faded blue jeans.  She 
was wearing moccasins for slippers with no socks.  She was 
wearing no make up and her freckles sprayed across her nose 
and cheeks.  Her hair was tousled and wavy from sleep.  She 
yawned behind her hand and then looked at me sheepishly.  
She almost looked like a little girl.  

Then she stretched up onto her toes, locking her hands 
together and reaching for the ceiling.  She groaned with 
the delight of stretched muscles and I couldn't take my 
eyes off her.  A slice of stomach skin was exposed with her 
maneuver and my eyes riveted to her belly button.  She 
lowered her arms and shook her head slightly as if to shake 
off the sleep and looked up at me ... and froze.

I closed my eyes against the rush of blood below my belt 
and turned to face the stove again, hoping to cover my 
arousal that was now obvious in my sweats.  I should have 
put on jeans this morning.  They were more uncomfortable 
when it came to erections, but they hid more.  I cleared my 
throat.  "Good morning, sunshine.  Want some eggs?"  

I was a little alarmed at how low my voice was.  "Yes, 
please."

So polite.  Uh oh.  "The usual?"

"The usual?"

"Yeah, two eggs, over hard with hash browns, small orange 
juice and a cup of coffee."

She chuckled.  "You really are paying attention, Mulder.  
I'm impressed."

"Did you think I was fibbing?"

"No, not really.  I forget how frightening your memory is 
sometimes.  Makes me feel dumb as a stump sometimes."

I whirled my head around to look at her after flipping the 
eggs.  "What do you mean?  You're easily as smart as I am, 
that's one of the things I love about you.  You challenge 
the hell out of me."

She smiled.  "Maybe, maybe not.  But I don't have your 
memory and I never will.  I wish I did."

"It's not all gravy, Scully.  Some things I'd give my eye 
teeth to forget, believe me."

We lapsed into silence then and I finished cooking her 
eggs, spooning up the hash browns from the other frying pan 
and placing the dish in front of her with the small glass 
of orange juice.  My arousal was under control now.  I 
poured her a cup of coffee, one sugar, and a little cream 
and brought that over too and returned to cook my own.

"Thanks, Mulder, I'm hungry."

I smiled and finished cooking my own eggs, over easy.  I 
freshened up my cup of coffee and joined her at the dinette 
table that sat off the side of this enormous kitchen.  We 
ate in relative silence, except for her saying that it 
tasted great.

When we were finished she asked, "So what's on the agenda 
for today?"

"I thought maybe we could go to Branford and Stony Point.  
There are some great houses out there with nautical themes.  
I thought you might like to see them.  We could go the 
Branford Crafts village.  There's a great little restaurant 
there that serves gourmet lunches called 'Indulge'."

"Sounds great.  No hiking?"

"Let's save that for tomorrow."

"O.K.  What should I wear?"

"What you've got on is fine, but you might want some 
socks."  I winked at her and she grinned.

"I'm not going out like this!"

"Why not, you look adorable in that oversized shirt."

Her mouth dropped open but then she closed it again, 
deciding not to say anything.  She blushed instead and I 
smiled wider.  The next words just slipped out of my mouth.  
"God, Scully, I love being able to say what's on my mind 
around you."

Both our smiles faded.  She looked at her plate but then 
raised her head and looked at me again.  "I ... I like it 
too, Mulder.  Maybe someday I'll be as brave as you are."

"You're not?"

"No, there are a lot of things that I think or that cross 
my mind but don't come out of my mouth."

"Let them come out.  Your thoughts have always been a 
mystery to me.  Not at work, or concerning work.  I can 
read you pretty good concerning those things.  But, 
personally, what you think when you look at me, I haven't a 
clue.  What you think about spending time with me ... alone 
or outside of work, I haven't a clue, never have."

She was silent for a few moments and swallowed.  She licked 
her lips and I smiled at her.  I could never get enough of 
just looking at her face and now that I was 'allowed' to do 
it, I couldn't stop.  She returned my smile.

"I feel a lot of things, Mulder, at different times.  I'm 
so used to hiding, so used to ... presenting an image."

"I know you are.  But you do know by now that you don't 
need to do that with me, don't you?  I won't hold it 
against you if you turn out to be human."

"Hey!  What's that supposed to mean?"

I laughed.  She knew I was teasing.  "We all have emotions, 
Scully, I've never quite figured out why you think yours 
are such a defect."

She sighed.  "You don't know what it's like to be a woman, 
Mulder."

I laughed then.  "No, I don't, thank God."

She chuckled a little.  "I mean a woman in a man's world, 
especially in a man's working world."

"No, I don't, but I can understand it.  I've faced 
prejudgment, I've faced prejudice and incredulity from my 
peers.  I've been ostracized for no good reason, simply 
because I was different.  And ... I know what it feels like 
to have people be threatened by your intellect."

"Yeah, I guess you can empathize, if not relate," she said.

"I know it's not the same, but they are shades of the same 
thing.  They produce the same feelings, I would think."

"Probably."

"But you're right, as a man, there are things that I don't 
have to worry about."

"Well, you do have to worry about being taken seriously."

I grinned.  "Not with you. Scully."

She smiled.  "Never with me, Mulder."

"That door swings both ways, Scully.  You don't have to 
worry about showing yourself to me."

She grinned then.  "Oh, I'm sure I have to worry about 
showing myself to you.  I trust you, Mulder, but I'm not 
quite sure I'm ready to face consequences if I SHOWED 
myself to you!"

I burst out laughing.  She was actually flirting with me, 
turning my words around and making them innuendo.  I 
couldn't believe it ... and I loved it!

"Would you like to find out what those consequences would 
be, my lady?"

She grinned.  "Not just yet."  She looked away from me.

"Not just yet, huh?"

"No, not yet."

I was careful to keep my voice teasing.  "Scully?  Does 
that mean that you will show yourself to me someday?  Just 
... not yet?"

She looked at me, struggling to keep the corners of her 
mouth from turning up.  She blushed again and I couldn't 
get over how wonderful it made me feel to know I was one 
making her blush.

She stood up abruptly and headed for the door.  She looked 
over her shoulder and said, "Sooner than someday, Mulder, 
just ... not YET."

I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs as she gave me a 
saucy look over her shoulder and bounced out of the room.   
I sat there for several minutes, breathing in through my 
nose and out through my mouth.  'Sooner than someday ... 
sooner than someday.'  Oh God.  WHEN?!

XXXXXXXXXX
STONY CREEK, CT

I was having a ball.  Mulder had taken me on a tour of the 
peninsula on the sound, a tiny Borough known as Stony 
Creek.  Houses with port holes for windows and elaborate 
eves were the norm.  It was so ... quaint.  

He wanted to take me to Branford for lunch, so we just got 
coffee at the America's Cup Restaurant on the peer 
overlooking the water.  We sat on the dock and watched the 
waves.  He pointed out the 'Thimble Islands', and gave me 
the history.  There was actually a mansion on one of those 
little islands, owned by someone lock, stock and barrel.  
It took up the whole island.  I was enchanted by this area, 
never having known that the shore here was so rich in 
history and culture.  

XXXXXXXXXX
BRANFORD CRAFT'S VILLAGE
BRANFORD, CT

We made our way to Branford and cruised through several 
strip malls before ending up in the Crafts village.  He 
bought me a little clock made out of sea shells, with the 
figurine of dolphin over the face.  At 1:00 PM, we finally 
went to lunch at the restaurant he'd told me about.  

I burst out laughing when I saw the sign.  It was an oval 
wooden sign with a large hog painted on it.  It hung over 
the door from the iron trellis.  The tag line on it was, 
'Those who Indulge, Bulge!'

We went in and feasted on broccoli strudel with flaky 
pastry crusts and chocolate covered brownies for dessert.  
I was moaning and holding my stomach again as we walked 
out, much to Mulder's delighted teasing and laughter.  I 
couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun, just 
relaxing, shopping and cruising around aimlessly.

I stopped by the car and turned to him, "God, Mulder, I'm 
having so much fun!"  

He grinned and pressed his lips together to suppress a 
smile.  "I'm glad, Scully."

"Why are you biting your lip?" I asked teasingly.

"Because my cheeks hurt."

"Your cheeks hurt?"

"Yeah, from smiling and laughing so much."

I giggled, a sound I rarely heard from my mouth anymore.  
"Oh Mulder, that's a sure sign that you don't smile enough.  
Did you know that it takes about 7 or 8 muscles to smile 
and 17 muscles to frown?"

"No, Dr. Scully," he said in a perfectly straight voice, 
"that medical tidbit has escaped my encyclopedic knowledge 
of the anatomy of the human face."

I giggled again as I slid into the car.  He slid behind the 
wheel and turned to me.  "What now?  Anyplace you want to 
go?"

"You know the area."

"Feel up to another half hour drive to Waterford?"

"What's in Waterford?"

"Harkness Park, The Eugene O'Neill Theater, Crystal Mall, 
the largest mall in New England, 3 square miles under roof, 
Scully!  A shopper's dream.  You can shop till you drop 
there!"

I shook my head at him.  "I think I've spent enough money 
today," I said, eyeing my packages in the back seat.  I'd 
bought shirts and simple jewelry.  I'd picked up a candle 
in the shape of an owl for my mother, and some children's 
books for my nephews."

He smiled.  "I'll buy you anything you want, Scully.  We 
could even hit the Burlington Coat Factory, which is only 
about 20 minutes from Waterford in New London."

"Whoa, whoa, since when do you offer to buy me things?"

"If I thought you'd accept them, I would have been buying 
you gifts a long time ago."  He was perfectly serious now.

"Mulder, I don't want you to do that."

"I figured you'd say that, Scully.  I love you, kid, but 
you're not very gracious at accepting gifts, you know 
that."

He was right.  I had made a fuss and argued with him about 
that stupid clock for 20 minutes before giving in.  
"Mulder, I just don't want you spending your money on 
frivolous things, especially for me."

"Why not?  What else do I have to spend it on?"

"Mulder, come on, you don't make that much higher of a 
salary than me, and I know you spend half of it on Armani 
suits and silk dress shirts.  If I could only get you to 
spend it on some presentable ties, I'd be in heaven."

He laughed.  Then he sobered as I watched him, not knowing 
what else to say.  "I have money, Scully."  Simple, just a 
statement.  I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"What do you mean?  You save all your paychecks cause you 
never have any fun?"

He shook his head, as though slightly exasperated.  
"Scully, ... I'm ... uh, well off.  I don't work for the 
money."

I stared at him as the implications of what he was saying 
sunk in.  I opened my mouth to ask another question, but 
then shut it, not really knowing what I wanted to ask. 

He smiled, rather self consciously.  "Ask, Scully.  I know 
you want to ask me something."

I took a deep breath.  "What are you trying to tell me, 
Mulder?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm ... wealthy, independently 
... wealthy."

I just stared at him.  "How wealthy?"

I felt like a jerk as soon as the words slipped out of my 
mouth.  He smiled, amused by stunned reaction, I'm sure.  
"I have enough money to buy you pretty much whatever you 
wanted."

"Like what?"

"Anything, clothes, jewelry, cars, whatever."

"Cars!"

He smiled.   "Let's go to the mall, Scully.  Scratch the 
park, we'll go hiking and have a picnic tomorrow.  Today, 
we go super normal and hit the mall!"

I grinned at his enthusiasm as he put the car in gear and 
backed out of our parking space, nearly squealing the tires 
as he peeled out of the parking lot.  Now big malls, I'd 
seen, but I wasn't sure I'd ever seen one quite this big.  
He found a parking spot only about a quarter mile from the 
entrance and we chuckled as we got out.  He made me laugh 
when he put his hand to his forehead like a visor and 
scanned the area as though looking at the horizon.  I 
wasn't used to Mulder in a good mood.  I wasn't used to 
Mulder being playful and I was finding that it was a huge 
turn on.

XXXXXXXXXX
CRYSTAL MALL
WATERFORD, CT

I took off at a trot for the door and he bolted after me, 
easily catching me around the waist and lifting me off my 
feet.  I squealed in mock horror and he swung me around in 
a circle, setting me back down on my feet.  I turned to 
him, a huge smile on my face.  I should have expected it, 
but I was totally taken off guard when he lowered his head 
and laid his mouth over mine.  He pulled me to his chest 
and kissed me deeply, his tongue poking my teeth, asking 
for entrance.  I opened my mouth to lodge a protest about 
kissing in public.

His tongue slid inside and swirled around my tongue and I 
was caught up in the tingling sensation that spread through 
me.  This was really only the second time he'd kissed me 
for real and we were in the middle of a mall parking lot.  
Anyone could see us.  I feebly pushed on his chest but then 
gave in, just not caring and kissed him back. He moaned 
into my mouth and broke the kiss.

"Whew!" he exclaimed playfully.  "That was a mistake."

I looked at him with what must have been a befuddled look 
on my face, because his smile faded and he said, "What?  
Did I cross an invisible line?"  He dropped his arms.

I couldn't think of an answer.  I didn't know what the hell 
I was feeling, except that I was shocked by his boldness.  
He muttered, "Sorry, Scully.  I shouldn't have ... sorry, I 
didn't think ..."

I shook my head, deciding I wasn't going to make a major 
deal out of it.  I had enjoyed the kiss, I'd just been 
totally taken off guard by it.  "It's O.K., Mulder, you 
just ... shocked me was all.  I didn't expect it."

He smiled tentatively.  "I'll be more careful."  

I nodded and his eyes darted away from me.  No, no, this 
wouldn't do at all. I was not going to let this little 
things ruin the day.  I reached up and palmed his cheek, 
turning him to look at me.  "It's O.K., Mulder, really.  
Come on.  Let's go shopping.  First, I want to find a 
coffee shop.  I'm dying for a good cappuccino."   

He grinned and started to step away from me.  Impulsively, 
I grabbed his hand and laced my fingers between his.  His 
large warm hand engulfed mine.  He stared at our entwined 
hands and looked up at me and back at our hands several 
times, as if he couldn't believe I'd done that.   A slow 
smile crept across his face.  I was telling him that I 
really wasn't upset, not just saying that to make him feel 
better.  He nodded, almost imperceptibly and we headed into 
the mall, hand in hand.

I was surprised at how much this simple thing brought me so 
much ... happiness.  I liked being away from D.C. and not 
working.  We knew nobody here.  And although it was always 
a possibility that we were being watched, it was unlikely.  
I couldn't remember the last time I'd been able to just 
simply hold a man's hand and revel in the feeling of being 
so comfortable with myself and with another person.

He was obviously delighted by the gesture and periodically 
squeezed my hand gently as if to remind himself that we 
were really holding hands.  

We walked, window shopping.  He never let go of my hand, he 
used the free one to point at things.  He bought a new pair 
of Ray Bans and modeled them for me, strutting around until 
I was breathless giggling.  Then we went on and he stopped 
dead suddenly and turned to me with a mischievous grin.

"What, Mulder?  I don't like that smile.  What are you up 
to?"

He grinned wider and pointed ahead of us a couple of stores 
up.  'Victoria's Secret.'  I looked at the store and back 
to him.  He was biting his lip and he looked so damn cute I 
just wanted to hug him.  His eyes sparkled with 
anticipation.  "Mulder, I don't wear that stuff!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not ... me!"

He leaned over to whisper in my ear.  "Or is it just that 
you haven't had anyone to wear it for lately."

I shivered.  "I don't ... I don't know.  I'd feel silly."

He straightened up to look in my face.  "I want to buy 
something for you."

"NO, Mulder!"

"Yes, Scully."

"Even if I won't wear it?"

He paused.  "Even then, but I bet you'll wear it, you won't 
be able to resist.  Even if you won't wear it for me, some 
quiet night, you'll see it sitting there in your drawer and 
you won't be able to resist putting it on."

"Why would I do that?"  I wouldn't admit it, but the idea 
of modeling lingerie for Mulder was more than a little 
titillating.  I knew the kinds of movies he watched and was 
a little frightened about what he might pick out for me.  

"So you could feel sexy."

"I'm not like that."

"Not like what?"

"I'm not like ... I'm not a ... sexy type of woman."

He laughed and looked at me like I had two heads.  "You're 
incredible, you know that?  You're the sexiest woman I've 
ever known and you have absolutely no clue what you look 
like to other people, do you?"

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. I was just NOT 
used to hearing these kinds of things from ANY man, let 
alone Mulder and it was throwing me completely off my beam.  
I had no prepared responses to comments like this.  I 
didn't know how to react.  He shook his head, "Come on."

He pulled my hand and I followed him helplessly down the 
corridor and into Victoria's secret.  He was very thorough, 
going through the racks, and the shelves, holding things up 
and discarding them.   Despite my earlier reticence, I 
found myself, looking at some teddies with matching 
panties.  They were more like camisoles.  I could even wear 
them under a blouse if I wanted to.  That would be 
interesting to wear something that silky and sexy under a 
staid wool suit to work.  

I heard him make a sound akin to 'Ah, ha!' I turned around 
and he was holding up a royal blue teddy with adjustable 
spaghetti straps and matching silky pants that looked 
almost like running shorts.  Only, they were short, shorts!  
The neck line was low cut with matching lace trimming the 
bodice. He laid them against his chest and eyed me, 
waggling his eyebrows and I couldn't help but laugh, 
shaking my head.  "You're incorrigible, Mulder!"

He stepped over to me and held it up against me.  "It'll 
fit perfect," he declared.  "And it will make your eyes 
glow so blue."

I couldn't get over the compliments he was showering on me 
and his romantic little statements.  I guess I knew all 
along that he had it in him.  But he'd never thought he 
could get away with it, now he thought he could and I was 
being overwhelmed at being treated this way, by Mulder, 
especially.  I wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

I stuttered out, "How?  How do you know ... it'll fit 
perfect?"  

He grinned and looked at the tag,  "Size 6, 36C cup, 
panties are elastic waist.  Perfect."

My mouth dropped open.  "How the hell did you know my bra 
size?"  He really grinned then.  

"You don't really want me to answer that question, do you?" 
he quipped.

I shook my head.  "No, I guess I don't."

He laughed and turned on his heel, heading for the 
register.  Well, at least he hadn't bought anything too 
outrageous.  He waved me over and I stood next to him, 
trying to avoid eye contact with the sales clerk.  He said, 
"Go grab those coffees, there's a coffee kiosk right down 
the hall here.  I'll be there in a minute."

I nodded, grateful for the chance to escape.  I was 
suddenly embarrassed to be standing there having Mulder buy 
me 'unmentionables.'  I realized this was no time for my 
Catholic sensitivities to rear their ugly head, but 
sometimes I couldn't help it.  And it wasn't as if I knew 
the sales clerk or would ever see her again.  She was a 
young girl wearing too much make up and lip stick, chewing 
gum like a cow and batting her eyelashes at Mulder.  She 
was one girl I wasn't worried about competing with and I 
turned and headed for the coffee bar.

I had ordered, waited and received our coffees and was 
sitting at a small table with stools bolted to the floor 
nearby by the time he emerged and came toward me carrying a 
shopping bag with handles.  He smiled and slid onto the 
stool, taking his coffee.  "Hey Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to ask you something and I don't want you to freak 
out on me, O.K.?"

I looked at him sternly.  "Mulder, just because I let you 
buy that teddy for me doesn't mean that I want you to 
suddenly go wild."

He gave me his wide eyed innocent look and I struggled to 
maintain my stern countenance.  "I want to get you 
something else, just because I want to, and I don't want 
you to ... read anything into it."

"Uh oh, you're scaring me now, Mulder."

He grinned.  "I want to take you into ... Kay's Jewelers 
and buy you a ring."

I gasped.  "Mulder!"

"Not that kind of ring," he said quickly.  "Just a ring, 
any ring you want.  Maybe something with your birthstone, a 
dinner ring, or something.  Something fancy, frivolous that 
you wouldn't buy for yourself."

I was shaking my head.  This was getting out of hand.  "No, 
Mulder!  Absolutely not.  You are not going to do this!"  
His face fell and he looked away from me.

"Damn it, Mulder!"  I reached across the table and grabbed 
his hand.  "It's not that I don't appreciate it, what 
you're trying to do, but ... but ... it's too much!  And 
I'd feel funny. And nothing is just 'frivolous' between us.  
Everything with you means something else, and I ..."

He turned to look at me and I was stunned at how hurt he 
look.  Why?  His voice was tight and slightly forced and I 
winced hearing it.  "I'm glad you think that nothing is 
'frivolous' between us, Scully.  Really, I do.  But 
everything with me DOES NOT mean something else.  I've 
always been honest with you and I'm ... being honest now.  
It's just something I want to do ... just because I CAN, 
and I want to do something nice for you."

"Oh, I know Mulder, but jewelry is so ... personal."

He looked almost stricken and then my heart sunk as I saw 
his blank mask fall into place.  His voice was the calm 
monotone he used to cover his hurt, "Gee, Scully, I'm 
sorry.  Lord knows, we wouldn't want to get too personal."

"Mulder, damn it!  Why do you always have to take things 
the wrong way?  Why are you so damn sensitive?  Nothing 
I've said here was said to wound you or make you feel ... 
bad.  It's me, Mulder.  ME!  I'm not good at ... accepting 
gifts like that."

He stared at me for a few seconds.  Despite his hurt, he 
would not look away.  Then he said, "Why?"

I shook my head, trying to think of a way to say  what I 
felt.  I was not very good at this.  "I don't know.  I've 
always felt that ... when someone gave me something ... 
really nice, that I owed them something.  Or at least in 
the past, that's what always happened.  The men in my life 
would try to buy my affection.  They would bring me to 
dinner, buy me gifts and then be pissed off when I wouldn't 
jump in the sack with them.  It's not that I'm frigid or 
anything.  I just wasn't the kind of girl to jump that 
deeply into a relationship quickly."

I looked up and if it was possible, he looked even more 
stricken than before.  What did I say now?  His voice was a 
hoarse whisper.  "You put me in that category, Scully?  You 
think I'm trying to buy your affection?  You think I'm 
going to expect something in return?  Because if you do, 
then you don't know me at all."

I shook my head 'No.'  "That's not it, Mulder.  My reaction 
is a ... Pavlovian response.  It's automatic, it's what I'm 
used to.  I just responded the way I always have, based on 
my past experience, not even thinking about the fact that 
... I know you're different, Mulder.  Please, you have to 
believe that I know that.  And I wasn't insinuating that 
you were like them.  But I ... "

"Didn't think," he finished for me.

I nodded.  "Whenever somebody offers to buy or buys me 
something nice, it's like this automatic defense reflex 
flares inside me.  I don't know why I didn't seem to make a 
distinction with you.  I'm sorry. "  I hung my head, 
looking intently at my coffee cup.

He was silent for several moments and then said, "We're 
both wrong, Scully.  You're wrong because I'm your best 
friend and you should know that I would never be so shallow 
with you.  And I'm ... well, I'm way too damn sensitive.  
You're right about that.  My problem is that ... "

I looked up.  "What?  Go on."

He took a deep breath through his nose, pressing his lips 
together.  His voice dropped to just above a whisper again.  
He was looking at the table as though if he couldn't see my 
face it would be easier to speak.  I knew the feeling.

"I want so much ... for you to ... believe in me."  I 
opened my mouth to protest and he glanced up, placing two 
fingers over my lips after reaching across the table.  I 
closed my mouth and nodded, indicating that I would be 
quiet, for the moment.

"It never mattered to me before you came along whether or 
not anyone believed in me or not.  It never even mattered 
to me whether anyone liked me or not.  I couldn't have 
cared less.  But then you came along, Scully, and you ... 
crawled under my skin.  I would catch myself acting like a 
little kid that wants approval from a parent."  He paused.  
He flashed me a grin.  "Even though my feelings toward you 
were anything but parental."

I grinned back.  He continued.  "But ... the more I ... 
fell for you, the more I wanted to be a better ... person.  
I wanted to be the person that you believed me to be, even 
though I knew in my heart you were operating under this 
illusion that I was noble or ... a good man."

I opened my mouth again but he shook his head to indicate 
that I couldn't speak yet.  This was getting frustrating.  
"I'm not a good man, Scully.  I haven't been a good man in 
long time.  I've lived my life entirely for selfish 
purposes.  I've used people, the Bureau's resources, 
whatever anyone would give me to further my cause.  Even 
you, Scully.  I even used you."

Now I couldn't stay quiet.  "Mulder, no!  You are the most 
honorable man I know.  At least you're honest about your 
goals and your purposes and your feelings.  You never hid 
your agenda from me!  And you didn't use me, I was sent to 
you.  And I wanted to be there and I wanted to stay.  
Asking me to do my job is not using me, Mulder."

He smiled a self-deprecating smile then.  "I've asked you 
to do a lot more than your job, Scully, and you know it."

I looked him in the eye.  "And I've asked the same of you, 
Mulder.  But that's because we became friends, more ... 
than just work partners ... a long time ago.  And that's 
what friends do, they are there for each other.  You've 
easily been there for me as much as I've ever been there 
for you."

He shook his head.  "I don't want to argue the fine points 
right now, Scully.  I'm getting off track.  The point of 
this conversation is that I've been trying to be better.  
I've been trying to be the kind of man you could be ... 
proud to be with, proud to work with.  When I'm with you, 
it matters to me that you trust me, like me and know that I 
would never hurt you.  I would never intentionally use you 
or ... be shallow with you.  You've done so much for me, 
and I don't mean just the work.  I mean that I like who I 
am when I'm with you.  I like the person I want to be when 
I'm with you."

He paused again, looking over my shoulder but then brought 
his eyes back to mine.  "I feel indebted to you for that.  
I don't mean I OWE you, " he continued as I shook my head.  
"I mean I feel like you've given me something priceless.  
You gave me, ... ME ... Scully.  You helped me figure out 
who I am and who I want to be outside of my obsessions.  
And I can never really repay you for that.  But when I have 
the opportunity to do something nice for you, I want to do 
it.  Not because I want to buy your affection ... or 
whatever.  But just because it pleases me to PLEASE YOU."  
He paused again.  "I wait all day sometimes just to see one 
of your smiles.  And if I haven't seen it by the end of the 
day, I start making stupid jokes just to see if I can 
provoke one."  

His voice trailed off over the last sentence.  I felt the 
tears sting my eyes.  God, had he ever said anything 
sweeter?  Had he ever made me feel so adored?  My lord, he 
really did adore me.  He loved me yes, and he loved me not 
just as a friend.  I knew that now.  But he also adored 
me."

"Mulder ... you scare the shit out of me."

He looked amused for a second.  "Now that I can believe."

We both chuckled.  "I mean, it scares me that you put me on 
such a pedestal.  I'm not perfect, Mulder.  And someday 
I'll fall off ... and disappoint you.  God, I never want to 
disappoint you, Mulder."

He grinned.  "Not logistically possible, Scully.  You're 
incapable of disappointing me."

"Don't be too sure about that."

"Oh, you're capable of hurting me.  You hurt me constantly, 
unintentionally.  But there's nothing you could do that 
would let me down or disappoint me.  I have faith that you 
will always be YOU.  You stick to your beliefs and you 
don't let others sway you.  I can count on that.  I know 
you.  None of us is perfect, Scully.  But some of us, like 
you, are a lot more perfect than the rest of us."

I laughed now.  "You're good for my ego, Mulder."  He 
smiled.  My smile faded as I latched on to the other part 
of what he had said.  "How do I hurt you, Mulder?  I don't 
mean to ever hurt you."

He hesitated.  "I know.  But you can't help it.  It's who 
you are and I love you for that too."

"You didn't answer my question."

He sighed.  "Every time you won't let me comfort you, hold 
you when you're upset, you hurt me.  Every time you are in 
pain and won't let me take care of you or help you, you 
hurt me.  I know you don't mean it this way, but it's like 
you don't trust me to take care of you.  It's like you 
think I'm going to hold it against you for being human, 
like every other asshole you've ever let into your life."

"It has nothing to do with my trust in you, Mulder."

"I know, but that doesn't make it easier.  It's like you 
don't want to be vulnerable in front of anyone and I can 
understand that.  I love your strength.  But I also need to 
feel mine sometimes.  And nothing makes me feel better, 
more worthwhile, than knowing Dana Scully trusts me enough 
to be vulnerable in front of me.  I was so ... grateful ... 
that you broke down with me last night."

I didn't know what to say.  "Don't misunderstand me.  I 
don't enjoy your pain.  Never.  I feel your pain and 
constantly wish I could take it away from you.  But I also 
felt worthwhile.  I felt like you were finally letting me 
help you.  You were finally trusting me to be completely 
open and vulnerable and trust that I would never hurt you 
with that knowledge you were giving me."

I just stared at him, never having realized how significant 
my crying about Emily had been to him.  I couldn't manage 
to talk very loud, but I did manage to talk above a 
whisper.  "When you were holding me ... I felt safe, 
Mulder.  I felt like I could let go and you would catch me, 
no matter how far I fell down into the pit of despair.  
God, it hurts so much to think about Emily and what might 
have been.  But you were right.  I grieved but in a 
destructive manner.  I didn't let anyone share it with me.  
I think maybe I thought I deserved to be punished, like I 
was responsible for not saving her somehow, like there had 
to be something I could have done."

"There wasn't Scully, and none of that was ever your 
fault."

"I know that intellectually.  I guess that I want someone 
to blame and blaming myself is the easiest thing to do."

"Blame the men that took you.  Blame me for letting them 
take you, but never blame yourself, Scully."

"Oh no, if I'm not allowed to blame myself, then neither 
are you.  I won't have it."  He smiled at my no nonsense 
voice.

I continued.  "The point was that I do trust you, Mulder.  
I do know that you would never hurt me intentionally or use 
my weaknesses against me.  But old habits die hard."

"I know.  I have a few bad ones to break myself, self-
flagellation apparently being one of them."

I grinned.  "Maybe we can work on them together."

"Hmmm, together, yeah, that sounds good, Scully.  And by 
the way, your feelings are NOT weaknesses, Scully.  My 
first order of business should be to help you realize that 
feeling things and showing those feelings only means one 
thing."

"What's that?"

"That you are human like the rest of us, and ... that you 
care. It means you care, Scully, and there's nothing wrong 
or weak about that."  

I stood up and slid out off my stool, pivoting around the 
little table.  He raised his eyebrows in question and spun 
on the stool.  I stepped neatly between his legs and 
wrapped my arms around him.  His went around my shoulders 
and pulled me against his chest.  He sighed.  "God, I love 
being able to do this, public or no."

I chuckled.  "It will have to stop when we get back to 
D.C."

"I know, no PDAs in D.C., but let me enjoy it for a while, 
huh?"

I hummed in the back of my throat and lifted up on my toes 
to reach his neck, placing a soft kiss on his jugular.  I 
didn't miss the shiver that ran down his spine.  He looked 
down at me, a soft smile on his lips.  "I love you, 
Scully."

I felt the tears again and blinked furiously to hold them 
back.  "Mulder, I ... please, when you say that ... I "

"Feel like you should respond?" he finished for me.  I 
nodded.  "Don't.  I don't expect you to respond.  Just 
accept it, O.K.  Now that I CAN say it, I WANT to say it.  
And I don't want you to ever say anything you don't mean."

I nodded.  "I won't.  You know I won't."

He gave me a quick, tight squeeze and slid off his stool 
with me in his arms.  He draped his arm over my shoulder 
and picked up the shopping bag with his free hand.  "Let's 
get out of here."

"Yeah, I've had enough fun for one day."  He chuckled and 
began ushering me through the crowd.


PART 6 (NC-17)
FOX MULDER'S HOUSE
GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2001
6:00 PM

God, what a day.  My emotions had been in turmoil all day.  
I'd had such a good time and I felt funny about that.  I 
don't know why exactly, except to say that I wasn't used to 
being with Mulder outside of work.  Even then, we talked 
about work.  Yesterday and today, we'd talked very little 
about it.  We'd just been two normal people, out shopping 
and seeing the sights.  It was a pathetically normal thing 
to do and it had been exhilarating.  

It also made me a little sad.  We didn't do this enough.  
It also reminded me of what I was missing by pursuing a 
career in the X-Files.  I wanted more weekends like this to 
recharge my batteries and not worry about being spied on 
and global governmental conspiracies.  And I was hard 
pressed not to do something about my attraction to my 
partner.

I think despite my jealousy of all the other woman that had 
come and gone in his life, somewhere in the back of my 
head, I knew he loved me.  And not just as a friend.  But 
knowing for sure and hearing the words had an almost 
magical effect on me.  It was as though all my fears and 
objections were melting away.  I knew I loved him, but 
somehow I couldn't summon the courage to tell him.  I 
thought about how unbelievably brave it was for him to tell 
me, knowing that I probably wouldn't return the sentiment.

Of course, he'd had the added incentive of fearing Jodie 
would blurt it out in front of me.  But still, he could 
have skirted the issue easily enough.  I was never one to 
push him emotionally and he knew it. Then again, we could 
have flown up here Sunday night or Monday morning, but he'd 
invited me to spend the weekend here instead.  Maybe he'd 
been planning this all along.  No, he'd said he just wanted 
us to relax and be away from the city.  And I was relaxing, 
despite the roller coaster my emotions seemed to be on. 

We skipped cooking and ordered a pizza.  He ran out to get 
it and returned shortly.  We ate in the living room again.  
I was full and mellow.  He lit a fire in the fireplace and 
then returned to recline on the couch again.  I turned and 
studied his face as he slouched there, his eyes on the 
ceiling, seemingly looking at nothing.  We were not 
uncomfortable with the silence.  My eyes were drawn first 
to his long eye lashes and the lock of hair falling across 
his forehead.  Then I looked at his lips and remembered the 
feel of them, warm and soft, moving across mine and 
shivered.  I'd turned to mush on this couch last night.  
And if he'd kept going, I can't say that I would have been 
able to stop him.

But he had stopped.  I wasn't really sure why.  Maybe he 
was waiting for me, some sign from me.  I was clueless what 
that might be.  Not that I wasn't glad that he had pulled 
away.  Or was I?  I watched his Adam's apple bob slowly as 
he swallowed and closed his eyes, sighing gently.  I 
remembered the taste of his salty skin on my lips, and the 
rapid beat of his pulse on my tongue.  God, how that had 
excited me, knowing his heart was racing just as fast as 
mine.  The feel of his weight on my body had been warm and 
delicious.  I wanted to feel it again.

The longer I sat there staring, the more I wanted to touch 
him, feel his skin under my hands, explore the planes of 
his chest and the tendons in his neck.  Unbeknownst to me, 
I must have moaned quietly, because his head snapped to the 
side, catching my eyes in one silent heartbeat.  I watched 
as his lips parted, just a sliver of those white teeth 
showing.  His eye lids grew heavy as his breathing 
increased and his pupils dilated in the firelight that was 
dancing shadows across his handsome face.

He didn't take his eyes off my face, but they did wander to 
my lips and back up to my eyes.  Asking.  He was asking 
with his eyes, without saying a word.  I marveled again, 
how open he was being.  He was making no attempt to hide 
and I was suddenly humbled by the bravery of that gesture.  
It was the ultimate gesture of trust, he was right.  He 
allowed himself to be vulnerable with me often.  I rarely 
let myself be the same with him.

I wanted to be.  Did I trust him that much?  Yes, I did.  I 
truly did believe that habit was the only thing that kept 
me reacting to him the same way I did to the past men in my 
life.  But that was extremely unfair.  Not only was Mulder 
UNLIKE anyone in my life before or since, he was an anomaly 
in a category all by himself.  He was brilliant, kooky, 
intense, sexy, giving, generous.  And he could be mine if I 
wanted him.

And oh I wanted him.  Could I be as brave?  I smiled 
suddenly as I had the thought that I didn't want to be 
outdone in this, or less brave than he.  True, this 
situation was completely different than chasing mutants and 
killers.  But I'd spent the last seven years trying to 
prove myself, and I think I'd done a pretty good job.

This man was in love with me.  He adored me.  I could see 
desire shining out of his eyes at this very moment and the 
intensity of his regard was overwhelming.  I felt my 
breathing speed up to match his as my chest grew warm.

His voice was like sand paper when he finally spoke and 
broke the long silence between us.  "Do you have any idea 
... how much I want you?"

I gasped slightly, feeling my nipples harden below the 
plain white bra I was wearing.  Could I say it?  What was I 
feeling right now?  Simple.  Just say it, I told myself.

"Probably about as much as I want you," I whispered.  His 
eyes closed and he gulped.  His eyes fluttered open again 
and focused on my face.

"Do you?" he asked tentatively, as if he was amazed to hear 
those words coming out of my mouth.  I know I was!

There was no way I could deny it now, no way I could lie.  
"Yes."  Anyone else would have pounced.

Oddly, neither of us moved.  We just sat there staring at 
each other for a few minutes, soaking up the feeling of 
being able to say these things aloud.  Silent communication 
was wonderful, but there was something about hearing the 
words that made the feelings real and right out there in 
front of your face.  You couldn't turn away once you'd said 
the words.  I hadn't said I loved him.  But I'd told him I 
wanted him.  That was a step in the right direction.

But unlike times past, when we merrily ignored the signs 
and admissions that we made to each other, this time, I 
wanted action.  No more denial.  No more pretending it 
wasn't there.  I stood slowly and his eyes followed me. I 
had a wicked idea and suddenly found it irresistible.

"Stay here," I murmured.  He nodded and I heard him moan 
softly as I left the room as his head hit the back of the 
couch again.  I grinned to myself, scooping up the bag in 
the kitchen and bolting for the bathroom.

I gasped when I upended the bag onto the counter in the 
bathroom.  Not only was the teddy and panties in there, but 
he had purchased a garter and navy blue silk stockings to 
go with it.  No wonder he sent me ahead for coffee, the 
sneak.  I shook my head in wonder.  God, could I really 
wear this?

What would his face look like if he saw me in it?  My hands 
shook as I shucked off my sweater and bra, then my jeans 
and sneakers.  I put the garter on first and cursed as my 
hands continued to shake as I slid the exquisite silk over 
my legs and captured the top in the tiny plastic clasps.  I 
put the panties on over it.  They hung lose like running 
shorts over the stockings.  I felt slightly silly, standing 
there with just that on and quickly pulled the teddy over 
my head, adjusting the straps.

I turned to look in the mirror.  Color was high in my 
cheeks and my eyes looked glassy.  My nipples were hard and 
tingling from the feel of the silk rubbing lightly against 
the tortured peaks.  Shoes, I needed shoes.  Damn!  They 
were upstairs.  I stowed my clothes in the hamper in the 
corner and bolted out of the bathroom nearly slipping onto 
my ass as I hit the hard wood floor in the foyer and 
bolting around the corner and up the stairs.  I quick 
glance showed him still in the position I had left him, 
head tipped back, eyes closed.  Phew!  He didn't see me.

I went to my room and retrieved the 3" black pumps I had 
packed for Monday when I donned my G-woman suit to start 
this investigation.  I slipped them on, feeling deliciously 
wicked.  I had a stab of Catholic guilt and fear.  Good 
girls weren't supposed to intentionally turn men on.  I'd 
always harbored the heretical thought that men in the 
church made up that rule just because they weren't getting 
any and didn't want the temptation.  I shook my head to 
relieve it of all thoughts in that vein.  That way lay 
madness.  No more second guessing.

I was still trembling slightly as I made my way carefully 
back downstairs, clinging to the railing until my knuckles 
turned white.  I walked on my toes, careful not to let my 
heels touch the wood floor and make noise.  I nearly sighed 
when I reached the deep pile shag carpet of the living room 
and let my heels rest a second.  My legs were trembling and 
I took a silent deep breath and a couple of careful steps 
until I was standing about a foot from the coffee table.  
He had put his stocking feet up on it and I took a moment 
to admire the way his jeans hugged his thighs, muscular 
from running.  He had taken off his sweater when he got 
home and his snug tee shirt molded to the muscles in his 
chest.  

I felt a moment of panic as I looked down at myself, 
feeling goose flesh in spite of the fire and silly all of a 
sudden.  Clamping down once again on my fear I said his 
name very quietly.  "Mulder."

His eyes slipped open slowly.  One beat of silence and they 
popped open, his legs crashing into the coffee table as he 
slid them to the floor.  He gasped loudly and his mouth 
fell open. He grabbed the edge of the coffee table, as if 
for support and stared. 

And stared.

And stared some more.  The only noticeable activity was a 
marked increase in his breathing tempo, and a pink flush to 
his neck and cheeks. Finally he licked his lips, his eyes 
traveling down to my feet and back up to my face for about 
the tenth time.  I felt my amused smile creep across my 
face watching his reaction with not a little fascination.  
I was amazed that he was so struck by my appearance.  And I 
felt a rush of elation.  He stood up, not even trying to 
hide his arousal, and placed a palm over the bulge in his 
crotch, groaning loudly, never taking his eyes off me.  

I felt the scarlet flush rush up my chest, through my neck 
and spread over my face like wild fire.  This was better 
than I could have hoped.  He was so turned on!  I was 
embarrassed but excited at the same time and felt my 
breasts grow heavy as he took a step towards me.  He 
whispered, "Scully, you look too beautiful to be real."

He reached for me and buried his fingers gently in my hair, 
moving in slow motion.  I could feel the heat rolling off 
his body in waves and shuddered under the assault of 
sensation.  "Does this mean what I think it means, Scully?"

I found my mouth suddenly didn't have a speck of saliva.  I 
hastily licked my lips and looked up to find his eyes 
riveted on my mouth.  I nearly swooned from the look of the 
desire on his face.  He was so sexy.  I know I'd never met 
anyone that could affect me this way, with just a look.  
Knowing he wanted me like this was an aphrodisiac all by 
itself.  I swallowed and still couldn't talk, a small 
squeak escaping the back of my throat. 

I finally gave up and just nodded in the affirmative.  A 
breath I didn't realize he was holding whooshed out and his 
head began to fall toward mine.  He captured my bottom lip 
between his and ran his tongue over the inside and then 
suckled it back into his mouth.  I moaned as arousal 
flushed through my body and pooled below my navel.  I 
swayed and he stepped into me, wrapping one strong arm 
around my back to support me.  Good thing, or I probably 
would have toppled right off these stupid heels.

His kiss was slow but became more insistent and soon our 
tongues were dueling for supremacy of the kiss.  I decided, 
much to my surprise, that I rather liked Mulder taking the 
lead here.  I'd started it but now I wasn't sure how to 
proceed.  It didn't feel like I was going to have to do 
much steering.  Especially if I gave him the green light.  
This way he could do what he wanted and I could learn.

I'd always harbored a secret fear that I wouldn't admit to 
anyone.  I never thought my body would stack up to the long 
legged, big breasted woman that always seemed to turn men 
heads.  I was short, red headed and although proportional, 
I wasn't overly busty.

The moment our chests made contact, I felt his heat wash 
over me again.  I pulled at his tee shirt and he whipped it 
over his head.  He pulled back and stood panting, looking 
at me.  "Slow, we have to go slow.  I want to remember 
every second of this."

I smiled, waiting.  He reached for me again but then 
stopped, arms mid-air.  "Scully, what do you want?"

I grinned.  "Same thing you want."

He chuckled.  "Could you be more specific?"  I laughed out 
loud then.  

"Mulder?"

"What?"

"It may be different later, but tonight ..."

"Tonight?"

"You're in the driver's seat.  I want you to drive this 
train."

His eyes closed and opened again, his breath whooshing out 
again, a tug playing with the corners of his mouth.  "Are 
you sure?"

I looked him straight in the eyes.  "Positive."

He hummed in the back of his throat and stepped towards me 
bending down.  Before I could discern his purpose, he 
scooped me up, one arm behind my back, the other under my 
knees.  I whooped loudly and then laughed as he hefted me 
easily and walked towards the stairs.  "If I'm going to 
make love to the woman of my dreams, I'm damn well not 
going to do it on a couch," he quipped.

"Aw, Mulder, the couch has a certain charm," I teased. 

He grinned.  "Lots of pieces of furniture can have charm 
and I'd be glad to show you just how charming they can be.  
But this time, the first time, I want to do it right."

I leaned my head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent.  He 
easily bounced up the stairs, not even the slightest bit 
winded when he reached the top.  I forgot how strong he was 
sometimes.  He kicked open the door to the master bedroom 
and strode to the bed, setting me down gently.  He looked 
at me for a second, and then turned and switched on the 
bedside lamp.  The room filled with a soft glow, muted by 
the blue of the light shade.  The bed was a replica of an 
antique brass bed, with the knobs on the posters and the 
fence like head and foot boards.  He stood up and 
unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.  He slowly slid them 
down his legs and bent to pull the denim over first one leg 
and then the other.  He ripped off his socks and stood 
before me in his silk boxer briefs.

My God, the man was gorgeous.  The angles of his chest were 
set in relief by the shadows cast from the soft light of 
the lamp.  My palms itched to feel his skin.  His thighs 
were muscular as was his abdomen.  His wide shoulders 
tapered down to a narrow waist.  I couldn't see it yet, but 
I knew his ass was tight and beautiful and exquisitely 
rounded and muscular.  God knows I'd sneaked enough peeks 
at that over the years.  He smiled softly and hooked his 
thumb in his boxers, pushing them down and letting them 
fall to the floor.  He kicked them away and stood, letting 
me look at him.

I devoured him with my eyes.  His erection stood proud, 
bobbing gently, pulsing with blood.  The head glistened 
with drops of pre-cum .  Wow.

Just WOW!  The man was hung and he was very aroused.  I 
felt another rush of arousal as I scanned his body again 
and then laid back.  I whispered, "What do you want me to 
do?"

He came forward and knelt on the bed.  He carefully removed 
my shoes, dropping them with a soft thud to the floor.  His 
hands skimmed up my stockings, barely touching, making me 
shiver with the tickle of it.  He smiled again, his thumbs 
reaching the top and teasing the bare skin there.  I 
gasped.  He bit his lip and then looked up at me.  "God, 
Scully, your skin is like silk.  It's softer than this 
silk.  I can't believe it."

I smiled, saying nothing.  He slowly grasped the panty 
shorts and pulled them slowly over the garters and off.  
Now my sex was exposed to the cool air and I blushed, 
feeling strange to be dressed only on the top.  He crawled 
between my legs and lowered his face to shower the inside 
of my thigh with little feathery kisses as he coaxed my 
legs apart.  He lifted one leg and then the next, to set 
them, foot flat on the bed.  I looked down and gasped at 
the sight of his head between my legs.  He grinned and then 
descended between my legs. 

I yelped at the first contact, nearly breaking his jaw when 
I bucked up suddenly.  He chuckled, saying, "Whoa, girl."  
He grinned and pinned my hips down with his hands as I 
blushed with embarrassment.  He licked me again and I 
sighed.

He sucked on my labia and I moaned.

He stuck his long, talented tongue inside, swirling it 
around and I groaned low, struggling to keep my hips still.  

He lifted his head and I whimpered in protest.  Oh lord, 
I'd never liked having this done.  I was always too self-
conscious.  I looked down again and saw the awe and 
amazement and love on his face and knew I'd never known a 
man make me feel so WANTED.   Oh God, I was so in love with 
him.

I felt a small wave of dizziness as he pressed two fingers 
inside and gently teased the front wall of my tunnel.  I 
cringed with a delicious jolt when he found my G-spot and 
felt moisture gush between my legs and my nether lips swell 
to nearly bursting, starting up a slow pulsing ache in my 
crotch.

I moaned again as he continued his assault.  Then he 
lowered that beautiful mouth to me again, and sucked my 
clit into his mouth, dragging the flat of his tongue over 
it as it lay pinned between his lips.  The rough texture of 
his tongue on my sensitive bud nearly sent me through the 
roof as I shrieked, feeling the unexpected orgasm rip 
through me like a lightening bolt.  He licked again and 
brought another wave of rippling muscle spasms.  
"Muullddeerr!  Oh God, Mulder, YES!  Oh I love your mouth.  
Love your mouth."

He pushed hard on the wall of my vagina and sucked hard on 
my bundle of nerves again and I groaned, "Ooohhh, 
Gooooooddd!"

I felt completely boneless as he retreated and slowly made 
his way up on all fours and straddled me, staring at my 
face.  I could do nothing but close my eyes and pant for a 
minute or so.  I felt his hands busy on my shoulders, but 
couldn't summon the energy just yet to open my eyes and 
figure out what he was doing.

Finally, I forced my eyes open, my neck struggling to 
operate my head.  He had loosened both adjustable shoulder 
straps.  Without removing the teddy, he slid the silk over 
my breasts and down until the neck line was framing my 
chest.  He slid one strap and then the other down as I 
wriggled my arm backwards and out of the strap.  I went to 
pull it down and off, but he stopped me, pinning my hands 
on the pillow beside my head and leaning down to kiss me 
tenderly.  He broke the kiss and said, "This blue silk 
makes your eyes so blue."

His hot, hardness was poking me in the thigh and I couldn't 
wait to have him inside.  I'd waited so long to act on my 
impulses and now, to wait anymore was unbearable.  I broke 
the kiss and nearly sobbed with frustration, "For God 
sakes, Mulder, you're driving me crazy.  The suspense is 
killing me!"

He chuckled low in his throat and lowered his head to 
capture my taut nipple in his mouth and lap it firmly, 
swirling his wet tongue around my areola and then sucking 
me into his mouth.  I arched up off the bed and shouted an 
inarticulate sound.  He treated the other breast to the 
same, taking his own sweet time.  Bolts of tingling arousal 
shot to my womb with every suck and made it cringe with 
anticipation.

I couldn't believe that I was so aroused again, having just 
came minutes before.  But I was nearly frenzied by then, 
whimpering and clutching at his strong shoulders with my 
arms, trying to coax him toward me.  I choked out, "Closer, 
Mulder,  ... skin, need to feel you."

He sank down onto me still supporting most of his weight on 
his elbows and I sighed in relief but it wasn't nearly 
enough.  "Pleeeaaassseee, Mulder!"

He kissed me again quickly and harshly and rasped out, 
"Please, what?"

I shouted, half choking, half crying, and definitely out of 
my mind with lust and love, "I can't take it anymore.  
Jesus, Mulder!  Get inside, NOW!  I need you!  Oh, please!  
Take me now!"

He gasped and positioned himself at my entrance, a look of 
astonishment on his face.  I'm quite sure he never expected 
to hear me beg him for it.   I could see the shock and 
excitement my pleading had provoked.  I was totally out of 
control, a rare event for me and even rarer that I let 
anyone witness it.  But I couldn't help it.

He slid slowly into me, pushing my tense walls wide as he 
eased his throbbing sex inside me.  I groaned low and then 
sighed in relief when he was embedded fully.  "Oh, 
yyeeaahh."  

I then merely sank into one continuous moan that rose and 
fell in volume as he stroked into me slowly with long, deep 
strokes.  My volume was directly related to how much oxygen 
I had at any given moment.  The feel of him, hot and hard, 
sliding in and out, massaging my aching core walls made my 
head spin.

He stopped after a few strokes and lay still.  My closed 
eyes snapped open to see if something was wrong.  He looked 
at me, joy and awe written in every line of his face.  And 
love, yes, there was so much love there too.  His eyes were 
black and glassy.  He murmured, "I think I've died and gone 
to heaven."

XXXXXXXXXX

This was beyond my wildest dreams.  There I was, wondering 
if I'd get to make out with her again before the weekend 
was over.  My hopes had been dashed when she left the room, 
telling me to stay.  I figured she needed a few minutes 
alone after making her confession.

Scully wants me!  That thought, those words had my groin 
standing instantly at attention.  It had taken every bit of 
will power I possessed not to make a grab for her when she 
said, ' Probably about as much as I want you,'.  I thought 
I was going to pass out from the shock.

But then she appears before me like a vision of Venus risen 
swathed in blue silk.  I nearly injured myself trying to 
lower my legs to the floor and stand up.  I couldn't at 
first.  I didn't trust my legs to hold me.  I was trembling 
from head to toe at the vision presented before me.  She 
looked even lovelier than I'd imagined when I bought it for 
her.

For a short person, Dana Scully has the most incredible 
legs I've ever seen.  Despite her height, they are muscular 
and perfectly proportioned to the rest of her body.  Seeing 
those garter belt straps peeking out from below the shorts 
panties nearly did me in. 

I thought that was going to kill me until I raised my eyes 
and locked in on her aroused, tight nipples poking through 
the silk.  But the best was her face, flushed with arousal.  
I could sense her nervousness.  It hit me like a brick that 
she was afraid of my reaction and I nearly laughed out loud 
at her insecurity.  But I managed to tamp it down, stand 
and walk to her.  From there on out it's a blur of 
pictures, snapshots forever etched on the canvas of my 
brain.  Dana Scully standing there in blue silk, wearing 3" 
fuck me pumps.  It's a wonder I could walk at all, let 
alone carry her up the stairs, but I managed.  I hope she 
didn't feel me shaking. 

It was finally going to happen.  But I guess I had my 
doubts right up until this moment.  Until this moment, the 
exquisite moment of the first push into a woman you've 
never been with before, a guy is never sure if it will 
happen.  Women have the option of backing out at any time.  
But she didn't, much to my delight. I kept waiting for her 
to panic and stop me.

I had to play with her perfect breasts for a while first, 
and had delighted in her unreserved, passionate response to 
my touch.  It had kicked my arousal up another touch.  I 
was tingling with the suspense of it, starting to shake 
inside with anticipation, just when she uttered those very 
words, that the suspense was killing her.  Yeah, honey, 
I've stored up seven years worth of suspense.

I wanted her to want me as badly as I wanted her.  I'd 
almost given up accomplishing that goal and said, 'screw 
it', no pun intended and dove into her when it happened.  
Dana Scully begged me to take her.  Her words were still 
tumbling around in my head making me dizzy.  'I can't take 
it anymore.  Jesus, Mulder!  Get inside, NOW!  I need you!  
Oh, please!  Take me now!'

Her groan of relief and then later an infinitely satisfied 
sigh when I was finally sheathed in her hot, tightness, was 
nearly my undoing.  I couldn't believe that I, ME, Fox 
Mulder, had made her feel this way.  Ice Queen my ass, more 
like the Flame Queen!

Her hot, snug walls, clutched at my aching cock, muscles 
fluttering with tension as I slowly drew in and out, biting 
my lip to keep myself anchored in reality.  It had been a 
while for her and I didn't want to make her sore.  I had to 
stop or this was going to be over too soon. She was 
unbelievably tight.  I was too overwhelmed with the feeling 
of being inside her.  My heart was slamming against my ribs 
and I had already broken out with a fine sheen of sweat all 
over my body.  I stopped and remained still for a few 
moments, willing my heart to slow down.  We had time.  No 
need to rush.

I groaned out, "I think I've died and gone to heaven."  A 
lazy smile appeared on her face, the corners of her mouth 
twitching madly.  I lowered my head and devoured her mouth 
as I began moving again, feeling a bit more under control.  

I stopped several times to calm down when the sensations 
threatened to overwhelm me.  She didn't seem to object.  
Her legs were wrapped around my waist, her ankles hooked 
together just above my ass.  The feeling of the silk 
stockings sliding over my skin with every thrust was 
exquisite.  Her teddy was bunched around her waist and I 
took a moment to feel the chagrin of not having taken it 
off.  She saw me look at it and grinned.  "Stop a second," 
she muttered.  I did and she reached down and ripped the 
scrap of silk up and over her head, making her hair fan out 
on the pillow underneath her. 

I grinned and stuck an arm under her lower back, lifting 
her slightly so that I could slide my stomach over hers 
with every thrust.  I could feel the lace of her garter 
belt scraping my stomach lightly.  I was making love to 
Dana Scully while she wore garters and stockings.  It was a 
dream, literally, come true out of one of my most lurid 
fantasies.  I still couldn't wrap my mind around it.

I couldn't get close enough.  I concentrated on her and 
bringing her the edge several times.  She didn't know it 
but I'd jerked off in the bathroom when we got home from 
the mall.  I knew I'd never make it if I didn't.  I'd been 
in a state of semi-arousal all day.  I was starting to get 
the brain fuzzies from unrelieved arousal.  

I was glad I did now, or I never would have been able to 
hold out as long as I did.  She was meeting my thrusts as I 
sped up, hitting her hard now and squishing her into the 
mattress with every thrust.  She grunted and moaned, her 
chest flushed.  Her eyes were closed and her head swung 
back and forth, her tiny hands gripping my biceps in a 
death grip.  I was beyond coherent speech or thought at 
this moment and just went on auto pilot.  My brain was in a 
total testosterone fog as I pounded in and out of her.  I 
felt her tunnel grip me tightly and then spasm around me.  
She shouted my name as she had her orgasm, a good one too, 
I think.  My name had never sounded sweeter.  "Ohhh, 
Mmuullddeerr, Yes!  Right there, oh God, yes!  
Muullddeerr!"

I managed to hold on and lowered my mouth to kiss her again 
as I continued to stroke into her.  I stopped again, now 
because I was tired, as well as ready to come any second 
now.  She blinked slowly and mumbled, "Oh God, Mulder, it's 
never been this good."

I was overwhelmed hearing those words.  I reveled for a 
second or two in the knowledge that I was making her feel 
things no one else ever had.  

MINE.  She was all mine now. My voice was raw and gravelly 
as I asked, "Can you roll over?"

She flashed me a smile and nodded.  We both groaned as I 
pulled out.  The cool air hit my soaking cock and I hissed 
at the slight freeze/burn sensation that caused.  She 
rolled over and I grabbed a pillow, stuffing it under her 
hips.  I was about to lower myself to her when she raised 
up on all fours and turned her head to look at me over her 
shoulder.

She was smiling from ear to ear.  Her hair was sticking out 
in twenty different directions.  Her cheeks were flushed 
and her eyes were glinting in the soft lamp light.  I 
sucked in my breath at the impact of that smile, the way 
she looked right now, literally offering herself to me.  I 
moaned as I slipped up behind her and grasped her hips 
firmly.  I knew I would be able to penetrate deeply this 
way, despite her tiny size.  She had taken me in before in 
stride, so wet and ready for me, it made my head spin.

She moaned as I slid home and began pushing back into me as 
I began to stroke.  In no time, I was slamming into her, 
our sweaty skin smacking together as we bounced together 
and away again.  I was pressing in so deep.  Her shapely 
little ass stuck up pertly in the air.  I could see her 
sphincter muscle winking at me with every push.  I reached 
down and wet my thumb in her juices and returned to ply at 
her back door gently.  The squeak of surprise from her 
quickly turned into the lowest, sexiest groan I'd ever 
heard.  I slid my thumb into her gently, and slowly until 
it was all the way in.  I began pulling it in and out as I 
kept pumping my cock into her hot wetness.  This slowed me 
down some but that was O.K.

I watched in amazement as she went totally wild, her hips 
thrashing, slamming back into me, her sounds escalating.  I 
was glad we weren't in her apartment or mine or we'd both 
be waking all our neighbors.  My whole body spasmed 
suddenly in response to her wild groaning.  It caused me to 
push into her a little more harshly than I intended with my 
thumb and my cock.  I gasped, expecting her to make a sound 
revealing pain.  Instead, she shattered into another 
orgasm, screaming, "Aaaaahhhhh, Muuullldddeeerrr!  Jesus!  
So deep.  Yes!  Oh fuck, you're making me come aggaaiinnn!"

She shrieked again as her walls trembled tightly, messaging 
my cock, and it was too much for me.  I ripped my thumb out 
of her ass and began pumping into her like a madman. I was 
completely possessed and knew nothing but the small area 
where our bodies were joined.  I watched myself slam in and 
out of her, gripping her hips, still blown away that I was 
doing this with her.  She shouted, "Yes, Mulder, come for 
me, that's it, do it hard.  Come for me."

That's all I needed to hear.  I felt my spine tingle and my 
balls coil.  My cock became so rigid it hurt for about two 
seconds and then I was screaming as I let go of my own 
release and filled her with my sperm.  "Scully!  Oh shit!  
Oh God!  Oh Yeah!  Ooohhh!"  

I couldn't ever remember making a deposit quite that big.  
We both collapsed and I summoned the energy to roll off 
her.  She rolled to her side to face and me and curled up 
against my side as we spent the next few minutes 
recovering.  I looked down at her and she had the most 
languid, sated look on her face.

I put that there.  I couldn't help the grin that invaded my 
face.  My cheeks still hurt from all the smiling and 
laughing I'd done today.  That was a sad statement, told 
how much I laughed and smiled regularly.  I thought that 
just might change now.

She placed a few butterfly kisses on my chest and side and 
then sighed.  "You, O.K., Scully?"

She raised her head to look at me, smiling softly.  "I've 
never been this O.K., Mulder.  That was ... fabulous.  Oh 
God, I can't even put it into words.  You're an amazing 
lover."  Her head flopped back down and I grinned like an 
idiot again.  Thank goodness I'd gone into the bathroom 
earlier for a little tune up.

She sighed and rolled away from me and I whimpered in 
protest, reaching for her.  She said, "I'll be back soon, 
but I really have to get these things off.  She unhooked 
her stockings and garter, removing them and tossing them 
off the side of the bed.  She immediately crawled back to 
snuggle into me, her head on my chest.  I hummed my 
contentment and held her tight against me.

"What do we do now, Scully?"

"Hmmm," she murmured.  "I think we need to spend all day 
tomorrow in bed."  She said this as if she was saying, 
'Isn't it nice outside today?'

I laughed.  "No arguments from me. But ..."

"I know that's not what you meant."  She paused.  "I would 
like to spend one more day in seclusion, just the two of 
us, pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist.  Monday 
will come soon enough and maybe tomorrow night we can have 
the serious talk and iron out the details."

"Details?"

"Of conduct, on the job, in public, etc."

I swallowed.  "So this is going to ... keep going?"  I 
asked hesitantly, unsure if she would be insulted by that 
question.

She wasn't.  She frowned but then smiled and took it in the 
spirit of why it was being asked.  She saw my insecurity 
and knew instinctively, like she always did, that I needed 
her courage and reassurance.

"Oh Mulder, what am I going to do with you?" she asked 
playfully.

She rolled up and straddled my hips.  She was a sight, all 
sated, pink and smiling with mussed hair, her eyes 
twinkling with amusement.  Her smile faded.  She looked me 
right in the eye and said, "Damn, I am so in love with you, 
Mulder."

I felt the bed spin momentarily.  I blinked and focused on 
her again, my mouth hanging open in surprise.  She smiled 
again and sunk down to plunge her tongue into my open 
mouth.  I responded in kind and we kissed each other 
breathless.  Finally we broke and I returned the sentiment.  
"Love doesn't even cover what I feel for  you, Scully.  But 
I do love you, so much."

We hugged each other tight.  I felt her lips smile against 
my chest.  "Now, back to the plan for tomorrow.  We're 
going to need portable food and drinks."

"Dana Scully!  Don't tell me YOU are going to eat in BED!"  
She giggled.

"I am," she stated firmly.  "And I'm going to show you 
every trick in the book that I know and see if I can drive 
you crazy.  You up for the challenge, G-Man?"

I laughed and squeezed her tight.  "Yeess," I hissed.  
"What tricks, Scully?  Doctor tricks?  Womanly tricks?  G-
Woman tricks?"

She giggled.  "You'll just have to wait and see."

I mock groaned in agony.  "Oh man!  Not even a hint?" I 
whined.

She shook her head in the negative her eyes twinkling 
mischievously.  I sighed, "Oh God, the suspense is going to 
kill me."

THE END.