Frozen by Eiluned (unseelie_eiluned@hotpop.com) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- DISCLAIMER: They don't belong to me, probably never will (unless I win the lottery ). I was just borrowing them, so don't sue. You wouldn't get much anyways; I'm just an expatriate writer/student! (well, I dunno about the expatriate thing; I'm not Hemingway) SPOILER WARNING: FTF; The End, Colony/End Game, Piper Maru, Tunguska/Terma RATING: Light NC-17 mostly for language and some sex SUMMARY: My version of what happened between Scully hugging Mulder on the Antarctic plain and her meeting with O.P.R. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She was freezing. Completely fucking freezing. Not to mention terrified. And Dana Scully had absolutely no idea where she was. All she knew was that she was in Mulder's parka, snow pants and socks, all of which were soaked and about eight sizes too big. Not that she was complaining. They were about the only thing keeping her from becoming a human popsicle. Sniffling, she looked down at Mulder's unconscious form in her lap. Move, she thought, have to move, or we die of exposure. "Mulder," she tried tentatively, hoarsely, lightly jostling him. "Mulder?" she said louder, shaking him, "Mulder!" His eyes came open, and he shook his head. "Mulder, we have to move," she said weakly, feeling her body slip into exhaustion, "Or we'll freeze." He nodded and pulled himself up, helping her to her feet. Scully yelped when her wet-sock clad feet sunk into the snow. Sighing in defeat, he bent down and tipped her over his shoulder. "The Sno-Cat is just over that ridge," he panted, trekking through the snow. Scully huffed with every step, feeling the air being forced out of her by his shoulder, crystallizing in the frigid air. God, it was so cold. She could feel her sweat-soaked hair freezing into red icicles. Tired of staring at Mulder's feet, she pulled her head up to see what they were leaving behind. "Oh, my God!" Mulder came to a crashing halt. "What is it?" he asked in concern. Scully was completely speechless for a moment. "Muh...Mulder, where did that crater come from?" she exclaimed, "And how come I didn't see it before?" Mulder set her down and turned to look back at the gaping abyss. "Scully, if I told you where it came from right now, you wouldn't believe me," he told her, "Right now, let's just get the hell out of here." They trudged through the snow back to Mulder's parked Sno-Cat. "God, Mulder, I'm so cold," she muttered, feeling her muscles give out. He picked her up and gave her a boost into the cab, climbing in after her with what seemed to be his last ounce of strength. Yeah, I can sympathize with yoyu, Mulder. He reached for the ignition and turned the key. The engine sputtered and died. "Shit," he muttered, pumping the gas pedal a few times. "Try again," Scully murmured, her head tipping back to rest against the seat. "Okay, start!" Mulder commanded, turning the key again. Once again, the engine gave a wheezing heave and died. Mulder slammed his fist against the steering wheel, a string of curses at the vehicle coming out of his mouth. Scully felt her head slip over to make contact with his shoulder. God, she was cold. Her half closed eyes wandered around the dashboard, taking in what was likely to be the very last sights she would see. Suddenly, her mind flew back to Mulder's hallway, just before she was stung by that damned bee. She closed her eyes and she could almost feel the warmth of the hall, the dimming light, the faded scent of Mulder's cologne, the soft caress of Mulder's words, of his hands, of his... His lips. She remembered perfectly the deep, soulful look in his darkening eyes as he poured his heart out to her. Looking back, it almost felt like she had stepped into the pages of a Harlequin novel. If she had been reading it, she would have laughed, calling it cheesy fluff, but it had happened. Fox Mulder, the man who trusts no one, lets no one in, took a sledgehammer to his own walls. Instead of turning her clinical side to it, maintaining her cool exterior, she shattered. She fell in tears into his arms, his welcoming arms, cradling her close to him, burying his face in her hair. A billion things went through her mind, everything inside of her screaming at her to say those three little words. Much to her own regret, her voice ceased to exist and all she could do was place a kiss on his forehead. And then... And then... And then he took her face in his hands and gently pulled her closer, his eyes nearly black with desire. And time seemed to slow down. She could feel the heat well up inside of her... burning as his eyes locked onto hers. For just a moment, she felt her throat tighten with fear, her logical mind reminding her that she and Mulder had a professional relationship that would be ruined by a kiss... she gulped in a breath at the thought...but her well hidden romantic side, the side that had, unbeknownst to even her, been aching for this moment with Mulder, took over. She let him pull her slowly in, like the gravity of a sun tugging at the wayward comet, moving closer and closer to its burning surface, sending white hot jets shooting out of its surface. And then... And then... She vaguely remembered half-hearing Mulder say something about a bee carrying a virus, and just before she slipped into oblivion, her mind connected the idea that maybe all of Mulder's spouting about an extraterrestrial virus wasn't nonsense. But the memory of that fleeting moment was seared into her mind as if with a red-hot brand. Scully opened her eyes, willing the tears there to go away; the last thing she needed was for her eyes to freeze shut. However, a ray of grace caught her eye. "Mulder, look," she said weakly, "A gas tank switch." A smile crossed his face. "I'll be damned, I forgot completely about that," he exclaimed, "Saint Scully." He flipped the switch and turned the ignition, laughing appreciatively when the engine roared to life. Scully felt her whole body fall over against Mulder, and he shifted his arm to let her lay across his lap. She felt the hot blast of the heater, and let the rumble of the engine lull her to sleep. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "What the bloody hell are you two doin' way out here?" Scully opened her eyes to see Mulder's knees. He was talking to someone...who? She pushed herself up and looked into the cheerful eyes of a sunburned man wrapped in a huge parka. Mulder was smiling in relief, and the stranger planted his hands on his hips. "This ain't exactly the place for a holiday," the man continued, "Hey, waitaminute. You're the bloke who rented Rudy's tractor. Damned glad to see you back!" Scully pushed herself up further and beheld a basecamp of some kind, little metal structures resembling igloos clustered together, huddling, it seemed, against the glacial wind. A shorter man ducked out of one and trotted over to the Sno-Cat. "Good to have the Cat back, aye, Mark?" the man whom Scully assumed to be Rudy said, "An' it's fantastic to see that ya made it back in one piece, Mr. Jones," he paused, eyeing Scully warily, "Well, two pieces." "Ya must be freezin'," Mark added, sending a suspicious glance at Rudy, "Let's get ya inside." Scully felt herself being hefted out of the tractor cab and back into the bitterly cold wind. After the relative warmth of the cab's heater, the chill of the great outdoors threatened to take her breath away. Behind her carrier, she could see Mulder using the lanky Australian Mark as a crutch. God, she was cold. Luckily, they entered one of the metal igloos and Scully found a warm, waiting cot. Mulder stumbled inside and dropped onto the cot beside her. A red-cheeked woman in a thick sweater dragged an armful of dry clothing over to them. "Lord, you must be cold," she said, "You're soaked nearly to the bone. You're welcome to anything here. We have plenty of extra clothing." Scully mustered up the strength to speak. "Who are you?" she asked in a weak voice, tossing a glance at the dozing Mulder. The woman smiled. "I'm Dr. Anna MacArthur, head of the Australian Wilkes Land Geological Survey Team," she replied cheerfully. Scully grasped her arm. "Wilkes Land? In Antarctica?" Dr. MacArthur looked puzzled. "Yes, that's the one," she replied. Scully shook Mulder awake. "What the hell is going on?" she asked him urgently. Dr. MacArthur shook her head. "I'll enact a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy, right? We'll let you two get dry. We need to check out some massive groundshifts we picked up at coordinates south 83, east 63. " she started to go out, then stopped and turned back, "I say, you got really lucky. You don't seem to have any signs of frostbite and you made it here in time for our supply flight back to MacQuarie Island. It leaves within the hour. I'll send someone to get you then." With a smile, she disappeared into a parka and into the snow. Scully turned to look at her weary partner. "Mulder..." He interrupted her. "Scully, believe me, I'd love to tell you exactly what happened," he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face, "I...I can't tell you all at once, there's just too much. Let me tell you in spurts. But right now, I'm freezing and I'd love to get into those nice, dry clothes." Standing, he began to strip, as if oblivious to her presence. At that moment, Dana Scully was too damned tired to care. She managed to find a bit of privacy in the tiny WC, and changed into the thermals, snow pants and thick fleece sweater. The snow boots were a size too big, but she was so glad to be out of Mulder's wet socks and into warm shoes she didn't care. She ducked back into the main room, opting to drag the cot over to the heating vent and collapsed. Mulder started to pull a thermal top on when she noticed a huge bruise across his ribs. He winced as he raised his arms above his head to pull the shirt on. Scully rose and stopped him. "Any ribs broken?" she asked, peering at the ugly purpling mark. He shook his head. "I don't think so," he replied, "Don't start poking, though." Scully smiled tiredly and collapsed back onto the cot. The last thing she remembered before she sank into a deep sleep was Mulder gently falling over onto her hip, his soft breathing as he fell asleep. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Scully woke up, she had no idea where she was. Panic gripped her for a second, until she felt Mulder beside her and a monotonous vibration and realized that they were on an airplane, wrapped in blankets. "Good morning," Mulder's voice came softly by her ear, "Nice nap?" She pushed herself up and glanced over at him. His head was tipped over against the wall of the little commuter plane, a thick blanket up to his stubbled chin. He looked very tired and, suddenly, very appealing. She shook her head to clear it and pushed her own blanket off. "What I wouldn't give for a hot shower," she muttered, "I feel sticky, like I just jumped into a tub full of Jello." Mulder's lips curved up into a mischievous grin. "Sounds kinky. Green Jello, Scully," he said, "Has to be green." She was too damned tired to come up with a biting reply. Mulder sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Actually, it was more like a pale green goo," he continued. Scully raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" A somber smile took the cocky grin's place. "You don't know what happened at all, do you?" he said quietly. "Mulder, I just remember you dragging me through... I don't even know what it was. Some kind of pipeline system? In Antarctica?" she paused, thoroughly confused, "Okay, I don't have any kind of explanation for this. What the hell happened?" Mulder had just opened his mouth when a booming Australian voice came from the cockpit. "There's the airstrip," the co-pilot called out, "Buckle up." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- * After a rather rough landing, they were hurried across the snowy airfield into a beat up Volkswagen van and then to a small bungalow in the middle of the tiny village. The co-pilot, a stout man named Adam, unlocked the door and ushered them in. "This is Anna...Dr. MacArthur's house. You're welcome to anything here. Agent Mulder, I'll arrange a flight out to Hobart on Tasmania, then to Melbourne," he said, flipping on light switches and radiators. Mulder nodded his head. "Thanks a lot," he said. Adam shook his. "No problem. I'll give you a jingle." And he was gone, leaving them alone in the cottage. Scully took the shower first, gratefully letting the hot water chase away some of the cold that seemed to have seeped into her very bones. She washed her hair three times, finally managing to get whatever the hell that stuff was out. After rinsing the conditioner out and washing her face again, she shut the water off and grabbed a thick beige towel, drying off and wrapping her hair in another. Mulder knocked softly at the door. She wrapped and tucked the towel around herself and opened the door. He seemed surprised, the way his eyes traveled quickly over her attire, then he recovered his cool exterior and said, "I found some clothes." "Your turn," she replied, "There are some disposable razors under the sink. You look like you need one as much as I did." He grinned, a slightly familiar soft look in his eyes. She ducked past him into the hall and padded barefoot into the bedroom. "Oh, yeah," Mulder's voice came from right behind her, causing her to jump and almost lose her towel, "There's only one bed, so I'll take the couch." "Nonsense," she replied, fixing her makeshift robe before turning to face him, "We're adults and we're exhausted. You can just keep to your side, Mulder." He chuckled, a low sound in the back of his throat. "I don't know. I just love freshly shaved legs, Scully. I might not be able to resist." She swatted at him and closed the door in his face. She heard him laugh again, and then heard the water come on. Dropping her towel, she pulled on a one-piece longjohns pajama thing and brushed out her damp hair, pulling it into a short ponytail, even though half of it fell out anyways. She turned around and peered into the dresser mirror. Her cheeks were red, redder than usual. She leaned in closer and could see the result of having her face pressed in the snow. "Damn, I need some coffee," she muttered aloud, hearing her stomach growl, "And some food." Leaving the bedroom door open, she ventured back down the hall to the kitchen. For a place that was hardly used, it was well stocked with canned goods. The refrigerator even had fresh milk and eggs. She opened a cabinet and pulled out two mugs and a canister full of Nescafe. Plugging in the coffeepot, she set it to brewing and fried some eggs. She had no idea what time it was, but her body was screaming for breakfast. Her feet began to get cold on the linoleum floor, so when the eggs were done, she started down the hall again to find a pair of socks. The bathroom door suddenly opened and Scully found herself face-to-chest with a half naked Mulder. She silently noted that he had the grace to wrap his towel around himself like a little Roman toga-skirt. But suddenly, she couldn't think of a damned thing to do or say. He was so close, she could smell the soap and shampoo masking the distinctly male scent of him and heat seemed to roll in waves off of his body. "Uh..." she stammered. Luckily, Mulder saved her. "I smell food," he announced, sniffing the air, "And coffee. Your call, Scully. I get into some clothes or you get to watch me eat naked." She knew it was a joke, but her mind actually toyed with the thought of voting for the latter. He gave her a wicked, lopsided grin and clutched his towel. "I think I'll get dressed," he said mock- thoughtfully, "It's still pretty cold in here and if it's cold, I can't impress you with my...assets." He ducked into the bedroom and closed the door halfway. Scully knew that he was teasing her, prodding her, seeing how far he could go before he really pissed her off. He had done it a few times before, and she couldn't understand exactly why. She thought that maybe it was his way of dealing with things he didn't want to hit head on. Silly way of dealing with it; it reminded her of nine-year-old boys pulling on their crush's hair because they liked the girl. It puzzled her then and now... She sat down awkwardly in the hall. A few minutes later, Mulder popped out of the bedroom in a pair of sweatpants and a wife- beater shirt, holding a pair of fleece socks in his hands. He stopped when he saw her sitting in the hall. "Scully," he said, immediately dropping to his knees beside her, "Are you okay?" "I'm fine." He gave her an unbelieving look. "Uh-uh. Wrong answer." She smiled weakly, hoping that he couldn't tell that she was recovering from some rather unpartnerly fantasies about him. "I'm just tired," she answered. Mulder gently tucked an arm around her ribs and helped her to her feet. "Come on," he said softly, sounding like he was comforting a child, "Let's get something to eat and then crash, okay?" Scully nodded, feeling herself becoming intoxicated with his warmth again. He deposited her in a chair at the little bistro table in the kitchen and set to work dishing out the eggs and coffee. With a flourish, he grandly set the plate down in front of her. "Madam, your first meal in three days," he announced in a mock-aristocratic accent. She attacked her food with gusto, the comment about three days vaguely registering. All she knew was that she was starving, and ended up wolfing down two plates full of scrambled eggs, three glasses of orange juice and a couple of pieces of toast. She contentedly pushed her plate away and sighed sleepily. Mulder was staring at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Damn, Scully," he said, "I've never seen you eat more than me." She chuckled and waited patiently for him to finish his food. He put the plates in the sink and made a grand show of gallantly helping her to the bed. "I'm so tired," she murmured, sinking into her pillow, "But I'm too confused to sleep. What is going on, Mulder?" He settled onto his side, pulling the heavy blankets over them. "I'm not sure if you'll believe it," he said uncertainly, rolling to stare at the ceiling. "Mulder, I just want to know how I got to Antarctica. And how you figured out where to find me. And why..." He gave her a sincere look. "Why I came all the way to the bottom of the globe to save you?" She nodded sheepishly. "I just want to know what happened. And what's going to happen now." Mulder pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Okay, beginning. You passed out in my hall, so I called an ambulance. The only problem is that the ambulance wasn't exactly that. I think that it belonged to our shadowy friends. The driver tried to shoot me. I've seen this guy before, when I was talking to Dr. Kurtzweil in the alley behind Casey's. But the next thing I knew, I was in a hospital. The boys were there and they told me that they found an Africanized honeybee in my hall and that they figured that my phone was tapped. Another ambulance showed up right after they left with you and found me." Scully sat up partway and turned his face toward her, lightly running her fingers over the healing wound on his temple. "Here?" she asked quietly. He nodded, watching her lay back on her pillow. "It bounced off my temporal plate. I was damned lucky. A little to the left and I'd be dead and so..." "So would I." Mulder cleared his throat and pushed himself up, leaning back on his elbows. "Skinner and the boys covered me and I got out of the hospital without being noticed. I called Kurtzweil and told him to meet me behind Casey's. But when I got there...he was dead. The British man from that Consortium, he was there. He told me to get in his car and then proceeded to tell me where to find you. He gave me the antidote for the virus." It was Scully's turn to sit straight up. "You had it?" "There's still a little bit left in the vial. It's in the inside pocket of my coat." She stared at him in disbelief. Everything was starting to click into place. The bees were carrying some kind of virus, and she got it from the sting. They took her away, to Antarctica. Cold, maybe the cold stunted the virus's growth, like the infection that Mulder got when he went to find the submarine. But...the crater and... She was still thoroughly confused. And they were running from something inside of that structure...what? Too many questions left unanswered. She looked back at him and caught something in his eyes, a certain look as he stared aver her shoulder out the window. "What aren't you telling me, Mulder?" His eyes met hers, shifting slightly to a soft shade of grey. "He told me what it is. The virus. He said that it is extraterrestrial, and that it was the original inhabitant of Earth. It's the black oil, like we found on the French diver and in Russia... It's been hibernating underground. It's going to be unleashed on the population of Earth by another alien species. He told me that they thought that the oil would just control us, making us into a slave race, but it has apparently mutated, gestating into another alien being. Using us as food." "I had that? That's what that bee gave me?" Mulder nodded solemnly. "I don't know if I should believe him. Everything he does for us masks ulterior motives. But he said that he wanted me to save you because of his own children. I think he was scared. And..." "And?" she prompted. Mulder sighed painfully. "He told me why they took Samantha." Scully was taken aback. No wonder he seemed reluctant to finish his story. She settled back against the head of the bed. "Go on, Mulder," she said softly. He shook his head. "He just said that Dad let them take Samantha so she could live after all of this, as a hybrid. So she could survive. And me... he said that Dad wanted me to expose the truth," he paused, rolling over to look at her, "Scully, I can't help thinking that... that..." "That he loved Samantha more? I don't think..." "But then why didn't he let them take both of us? If he really loved me, he would have wanted me to survive, too, wouldn't he?" he said, his voice growing louder. Scully could see the pain in his expression and the hot tears welling up in his eyes. Damn it, Mulder crying was not one of her favorite things to see, and she didn't even think that she'd seen him do it before. The anger and hurt in his eyes burned through her, leaving her empty inside. "Mulder," she whispered, impulsively wrapping her arms around him, "It'll be all right. I think that your father loved you very much, so much that he trusted you to stop whatever is going to happen. Maybe he didn't think that your sister would be able to stop it. I think he knew what a strong person you would become, and he knew that you'd be determined. Please, don't cry..." Mulder lifted his face from her belly, the wet tracks of tears trailing down from now moss green eyes. "I don't know who to believe anymore, Scully," he whispered. "Believe in me, Mulder." They were silent for a moment, sharing each other's thoughts. Mulder moved first, upward so that Scully thought he might be moving up to kiss her. Alas, he flipped over onto his back, stretching his lanky legs out. "Mulder?" she asked softly. "Hmm?" "Where did that crater come from?" A small smile played on his lips, until it grew into his full, lopsided grin. "You won't believe me," he said wryly. "Damn it, Mulder..." "It was a spaceship." Scully's eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "Oh?" "Yup. It was probably the size of D. C. Looked remarkably like the one in Independence Day, only more realistic. I told you you wouldn't believe me. But it's the truth." "And what were we crawling from inside the...spaceship?" "A really nasty alien." "Oh?" "Mmm-hmm. Makes the ones in Alien look like Teletubbies." Scully pondered this for a moment, trying to decide if he was joking or serious. He could be so damned difficult to peg sometimes. "Okay. And that was what the virus was gestating into." He flipped over again. "Scully, I swear, I saw it inside humans on that ship. Like it was in stasis. You have to believe me. Or at least that I'm not insane." She bit her lower lip thoughtfully. "I believe in you, Mulder. Just give me time to decide whether I believe your story." He nodded and yawned. "God, I'm tired," he said, sliding deeper under the blanket, "Can we sleep now?" Scully found herself yawning, too. "Why not?" she agreed, sliding down herself, burrowing into the warmth of the bed. Within minutes, they were both snoring. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scully woke up from a dream she couldn't quite remember with Mulder spooned up against her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. His body was warm and strong, and she couldn't help pressing her hips back against him. Once again, her mind flashed back to the scene in his hall, the closeness, the heat... She moaned softly, pushing back again. She felt him react in his sleep, arching against her, and she could also feel his physical response to her body, the hardness through her pajamas and his sweats. For just a moment, she heard her logic voice in her head shouting something about FBI regulations, until her need got the best of her. I resigned. No more FBI, no more regulations. Want more Mulder, she thought. She smiled to herself and chuckled softly. "What was the laugh for, Scully?" She jumped so hard that it shook the bed. She could feel Mulder laughing silently behind her and she was thankful that he couldn't see how red her face was. "I...I don't know," she replied, "How long have you been awake?" He pressed his hips against her backside and she couldn't help another little moan. "About ten minutes," he replied, his lips brushing her earlobe and sending shivers across her skin. "Were you watching me sleep?" she asked breathlessly, trying to control the wild thoughts running rampant through her mind. A small smile crossed his lips. "That's my secret," he whispered softly, in a tone that Scully had never heard from her partner before. She could feel herself melting, the residual cold from the Antarctic mixed with the ice that she had built around her heart was thawing, breaking, shattering with Mulder's touch. His fingers played softly in her hair, teasing the back of her neck, all while his hips kept up their primeval dance against her body. "Oh, god," she murmured, "Mulder, what are we doing?" He stopped moving abruptly. "I'm sorry..." "What are you apologizing for?" He was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," he answered sheepishly, "I just... I've wanted this for a long time, Scully..." She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips. "No apologies," she said an instant before turning her head and pressing her lips against his. His lips were soft and full and his hands slid around her body, rolling her over to face him. At first, the kiss was gentle. It didn't last long, though. Scully pushed him over onto his back, draping herself across his body. Mulder groaned and thrust his tongue into her mouth, his fingers trying to unbutton her longjohns desperately. She broke the kiss long enough for him to strip the thick pajamas off of her body. The upper hand had been hers briefly, until she was naked, soul and body bared to him. His eyes visibly shifted color, from a sleepy brown to a dark, dusky green, his pupils dilating. He came at her then like a wild animal, sweeping her down onto her back, his mouth roaming over her bare skin. She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to tug at his clothes, but damn it all, her body just wouldn't respond. The tension building in her belly seemed to override all coherent thought. "Mulder.." she whispered, crying out softly as his lips closed over her nipple. Scully's mind was reeling. How surreal, she thought, that just yesterday, we were frozen on the Antarctic ice, now here we are... Her fingers finally gained some control and managed to tug his shirt over his head, and he promptly pressed his bare chest against hers, moaning at the contact. His mouth met hers again, drowning her in his heat, the soft warmth and sensuality of his lips. She pulled back first, gasping for breath, letting him shift to remove his sweatpants. Then, he was pressed against her again, his erection hotter than the rest of his skin, rubbing against her hip as his fingers worked magic between her thighs. She gasped and groaned, whimpering at his feathery, teasing touches, her own hand blindly finding his erection. He sucked in a breath when she let her hand slide over the ample length of him, his eyes showing surprise and appreciation. His eyes... His eyes were darker than she'd ever seem them. He kissed her gently, nipping at her lower lip. "Scully..." he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the back of his throat. She shuddered against his hand and pressed her lips to his throat. "I need you," she answered his unspoken question, "Mulder, I need you now." A smile widened his face and he kissed her again, rolling over to sit up. "Come here," he said lightly, beckoning her to him. Scully felt herself hesitate, acknowledged a million thoughts going through her mind in a millisecond, most along the lines of 'It's happening. It's happening. Mulder is making love to me...' The overpowering need to feel him inside of her bridged the gap between fear and trust and she willingly crossed the span, opening herself to him completely. His eyes were wide and maybe a little hazy, but she could see him in there, waiting for her to make the move, wanting her. His hands snaked around her waist and pulled her into his lap. He stared at her, concentrating with the same look she often caught on his face when he thought she wasn't looking. Scully lowered herself down on him in one thrust, taking him all the way in. His head fell back, a shuddery breath leaving his throat. "Oh, god," he moaned. 'I know the feeling, Mulder...' she thought hazily. His hands moved around her to cup her hips, pulling her toward him, thrusting deep. As delicately as either of them wanted it to be, things got out of hand. It ended all too quickly, crying out his name, his arms tightening around her as his body tensed, shudders traveling between them like electricity, a flux tube of emotion, passion... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scully woke up in a strange place. It didn't feel like a bed, but she knew she was in one... Her eyes flew open when she realized that she was on top of Mulder, their bodies still joined. The first sound to hit her ears was Mulder's laughter, and she could feel his chest heaving with his breath. "Wha...?" she stammered. "That look was classic, Scully," he laughed, his head tossed back on the pillow, "I should have had a camera. It was a Kodak moment." She pushed herself up to tower over him. "Who says you get to make fun of me, huh?" she replied, all mock furious. He smiled up at her, a smile that she had never seen on his face before. It made the creases of sadness and determination disappear, leaving in their place a happy glow. Scully couldn't help smiling back, feeling warmth well up inside of her. "This is where I'm supposed to be," she said suddenly, "Right here, with you." He sat up, his arms sliding around her, drawing her close to his body. "Scully..." he began. "I love you." He looked surprised, but his eyes practically radiated ecstatic light. "It took being abducted, prodded, implanted, a coma, cancer, one damned bee and a deep-freeze in Antarctica for me to see it, but I do," she paused, feeling unfamiliar tears well up in her throat, "I just... I just love you." His smile could have lit up D. C. "I've wanted to hear that for a long time," he said, "I can't tell you how much I love you. Or how good it feels to hear you say it to me." She kissed him softly. "And I told you I couldn't resist freshly shaved legs." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Flight on commuter jet to Hobart, then on Qantas flight 1025 to Melbourne. A reservation in a nice hospital, then a fifteen hour flight back home." Scully was still warm from the shower that she and Mulder had shared half-an-hour ago. Damned lucky that they had gotten up when they did, because their new best friend, Adam, showed up with their plane tickets and some fresh clothes donated by the friendly townsfolk. Mulder turned and looked at her, a smile on his lips paired with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ready to go home? I'll bet you miss your own bed..." his sentence trailed off into a grinning innuendo. "Let's go home." End Author's note: So, whaddya think? It turned out to be more fluff than I had expected, but I just couldn't see myself using the word 'cock' in a sweet, 'discovering love for one another' story. Forgive me for the 'flux tube' thing. I just re-read 2010: Odyssey Two and it had too damned many references to the thing! P.S. I wrote this last year, but I’ve just now come to like it. At first I thought it sucked . Tell me what you think!